Supernatural: The Infernal Book

A Walk

"I've never seen someone stand up to my dad like that," Dean remarked as he sat across from Ryder at the kitchen table while they serviced the firearms.

Ryder shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes on the handgun he was working with. A faint blush crept along his cheeks, the only telltale sign that Dean's words had an effect on him.

"Hey," Dean said as he nudged Ryder under the table with his foot. "You're being uncharacteristically quiet."

"Just a lot on my mind," Ryder said.

Dean licked his lips and leaned forward. "Let's go for a walk."

Ryder's stomach fluttered at the innuendo in Dean's hot little suggestion. He looked over at where Sam and Miles were still up to their eyeballs on research, lap tops screens and big, old dusty volumes cracked open all around them. Bobby and John were doing a perimeter check but were to be back soon.

"We should wait until Bobby and your dad get back," Ryder whispered before standing up and stretching, aware of Dean's hungry gaze as it fell upon the sliver of exposed skin when he raised his arms and permitted his shirt to ride up.

"You're such a fucking knockout," Dean growled.

Biting the inside of lip to stifle his smile proved ineffective, so Ryder simply grinned boyishly before walking over to the coffee machine. He lifted the freshly brewed pot and began making his rounds, topping Sam and Miles off before standing in front of Dean. "Want some?" He asked, aware of the double meaning.

Dean eyed the pot before locking his gaze with Ryder's. "You know I do."

Ryder couldn't help but feel his body moving rapidly into sexy territory, dragging his heart and mind along for the ride. Ryder couldn't resist craving Dean. The man was sex incarnate and, as a bonus, he was compelling in his depth. But Ryder knew it wouldn't go any further. He couldn't help but feel at war with his desires and his standards. Still, Dean's crooked and enticing smile defeated his doubts. For now.

"The area is clear," Bobby reported as he and John walked inside, rifles burdening them.

"For how," John added in a grim voice before turning to Sam and Miles. "You two come up with anything useful?"

"Not much more than we already know," Miles said, speaking for himself and Sam. He knew that the last thing Sam wanted to do was talk to his father. Instead, the younger Winchester kept his nose in a book while taking intermittent sips from his mug.

"The coven responsible for the book in the first place isn't very well-documented," Miles carried on. "We know that the witches in it were and are powerful. But outside of them creating the Infernal Book, there isn't any activity documented after it was lost to them. It's like...they aren't able to function without it."

"Good. Then all we need to do is keep it from them," Bobby remarked.

"But they are functioning," John growled. "Otherwise they wouldn't have attacked Julian and stolen the book."

"My money is on a pact," Miles said as he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes. "I think, in absence of their power, they must have reached out to some other entity. A demon, another coven. Whatever. They reached out to them and made some kind of promise to them in exchange for their help tracking down the book and the key."

"Then why haven't they bothered with us?" John challenged.

"Well, Uncle Julian is older. Not as capable of hunting as he used to be," Miles reasoned. "And even though Ryder and I are hunters, we're still fledglings. Whoever took the book felt confident enough that they could deal with us. But now the odds aren't as good."