Turn the Page -Sequel to More Than a Feeling

Chapter 2

Silent shadows slipped unnoticed through the gap clipped in the chain link fence on the outskirts of the city. One by one, the abandoned warehouse absorbed them.

Inside, dark shapes milled uneasily, some standing in groups of two or three, some lingering alone against the walls. Crossed arms and suspicious glances filled the room like the stirred-up dust motes swirling through the air.

A husky, bearded figure stepped to the front of the room, and the low hum of murmurs quieted. The man's eyes glinted in the darkness as he addressed the gathering in a raspy voice.

"First off, let's get one thing out in the open. We don't like each other much. Most of us, we prefer to keep to our own kind." No one spoke, but several pairs of feet shifted on the dusty floor. "But I invited you here because we've got something in common. A common enemy." He paused, and scanned his audience. "How many of you know somebody who's rotting in Purgatory right now because a Winchester sent them there?"

Angry grumbles filled the room. The man nodded slowly. "So, the question is, are we gonna keep hiding? Keep hoping we've got a little more time before they come knocking at our door? Or are we gonna do something?"

A nervous voice came from the back of the room. "I heard they killed your pack—a whole pack of purebloods. Is it true?"

The man's jaw jutted out. "Yes. And those cocky bastards will pay."

The voice responded more loudly. "Is that why you brought us here? To help you get revenge? We're not going to die for you."

A fresh wave of muttering spread through the room.

"No," the man said, stepping forward. "I brought you here so we can all save our own skins. So we can stop living in fear."

"Taking on the Winchesters is suicide!" a woman shouted, and many raised their voices in assent.

The man up front snarled. Long, thick nails sprouted from his fingertips, and a mouthful of yellow teeth protruded from his face. His audience froze; the clamor of voices fell silent.

"Cowards!" he snarled, yellow eyes blazing. "They're humans. They bleed just like the rest. We'll make them bleed." He glared around the room, breathing hard. Several tense moments ticked by. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His mouth shrank back to human proportions; the claws disappeared into his fingers. He opened eyes that were dull brown once more. "Listen to me. The Winchesters hunt us. They study us. They choose when to fight. They track us, find us, and kill us. No one's ever beaten them, because we've always fought alone. Until now."

He walked slowly through the room, every eye fixed on him. "It's time to turn the tables. We become the hunters, not the hunted. We join forces. Stop playing defense. We study them. We choose when and where to attack. We find their weaknesses and exploit them."

Exchanged glances bounced throughout the room.

A measured grin spread across his hairy face. "Imagine: One Winchester, surrounded by a dozen of us he wasn't expecting. He needs silver for werewolves, shapeshifters, wraiths. A big blade for vampires and ghouls. Fire for rugarus. How can he fight all of us at once?" His eyes glinted again in the dimness. "He can't. He'll be dead before he can choose a weapon."

Wicked grins mirrored his own, and heads nodded throughout the gathering. "We have to be patient," he warned. "We get one shot at this. After that, the element of surprise is gone." He eyed each creature. "So. You have a choice. You can leave now. Go back to your nests and lairs and houses, and wait for the day when the death twins come knocking. Or, you can join me. You can be the predator. We can end them."

The musty air buzzed with excited murmurs. The dark shapes drifted closer together and huddled around the speaker, united, if only temporarily, in their common purpose.