Hellhound (Supernatural #1)

18: All Those Flashing Lights

Pink, noun.

1. A color varying from light crimson to pale reddish purple.

***

I looked from one brother to the other, hoping to spot even the tiniest sign of weakness. Dean and Tate stood side by side, looking strangely identical; the same auburn hair, the same serious gray eyes, the same no-nonsense look on their face, their arms crossed in the same not-changing-our-minds way. They both wore dark blue jeans, and a dark t-shirt that could have been a size bigger; but then again, the good-looking guys in movies always wore their shirts too tight. Why wouldn't they? Aside from the fact that this wasn't a movie.

When there was no change in them, I stomped my feet like a little kid, knowing that I had been defeated but refusing to admit it. "Oh come on! Why do I have to get all dressed up?"

"Because girls always dress up when they go to a club, or they do to this club at least. We went to fit in, remember? That won't work if you're wearing jeans and a t-shirt." They had already made this point, several times in fact. That didn't mean I agreed with it anymore this time.

"But I don't even own anything dressy. In fact, I don't even own a skirt or a dress," I pointed out. I told them that earlier when we drove by my house to pick up what I needed to get ready. They had said not to worry about; honestly, I thought that meant I could just wear jeans. Boy, was I wrong! I was curious to see what I was going to wear instead though. That was still a mystery as of yet.

"Don't worry, we got you covered," Dean said with a grin.

"I'm sorry but I don't think we wear the same size." He asked for that comment. I saw him grit his teeth; he glanced at Tate as if to say you deal with this.

Tate decided that that might be best. He unfolded his arms and came over to me, standing so close that I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eye. "Sawyer, I want you to come along tonight. You might be a useful distraction if something goes wrong. But, as siren, you might pick up on something that Devin and I can't. And I know you still don't want to believe that that is what you are but I do. However, if you really don't want to do this, then tell me and we can finally finish this Mexican standoff that we've had going since we came home. Devin and I will go by ourselves."

He was playing dirty. He was playing the guilt card; he might not formulate it in the most obvious of ways but it was hard to miss nevertheless. What was worse was that it was working. I could feel myself wavering. Well, I had already been wavering; this was simply the final blow. Dean stood smirking a little way back. He knew that his brother had won them the battle. Tate also knew it, of that I was certain. He just had the decency not to rub it in.

"Fine!" I sighed. I really wasn't happy about this. "In that case, I will lock myself in the bathroom for the next hour, maybe longer. No one is getting in there until I am done." Then, glaring at Dean, "You better find me something suitable to wear."

"If you trust me enough, leave the door unlocked and I will hang it up for you."

I glared at him once more, then at Tate, before grabbing my bag off the dinner table and heading for the bathroom. It was a large space, just like everything else in their apartment, and everything was brand new. Fresh towels had already been laid out like they had never doubted that I would go along with their demand and dress up. I checked the shower and didn't know whether to be surprised that there were women's hair products and shower gel or not. Why would they have that? Neither really seemed like the type to bring a girl home, at least not a girl who would stick around long enough to shower. Maybe they had gotten them for me? Was that supposed to make me feel special?