Demon Blood: A Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 13: Life Lessons

"Let go of the woman. Kneel on the ground and put your hands on your head." The woman called, drawing a pistol from the holster on her hips. Mallory grudgingly let go of Reyna's meatsuit and she and Sam obliged slowly. A small squadron of men appeared behind the officer, all with assault rifles raised. The woman stalked forward. "Stay exactly where you are. Do not attempt anything. Move, and you'll have a hole before you even manage anything."

"We weren't going to try anything." Sam called softly, interrupting Mallory, who was about to snark the officer. To Mallory, he hissed, "Keep with me. Do not talk. I have experience."

"You have a criminal record?" she huffed back. "God, I am insane. This is totally going to ruin my university chances." She had to admit, though, that perhaps it was a good thing she was stuck with Sam instead of Dean. She felt like Dean would have smart-mouthed the officer first and gotten them into more trouble. Sam, at least, sounded gentle and convincing. It put her slightly more at ease.

"Relax. Let me handle this. Hey, we might not even get arrested-" Sam was interrupted by the officer coming into hearing range. The soft rumble of the impala came closer, but it was most likely too late. In fact, it stopped before coming into view. Dean had probably seen the police cars and stayed away.

At least he and Reyna were out of trouble, mostly. Now; Mallory and Sam, that was a different story.

As the cop was wrenching her hands behind her back, Mallory wondered what they would think when they found it impossible to remove the knife. Well, maybe it would come out now that nobody inhabited the body, but maybe Reyna would smoke back into the body when no one was looking. She looked genuinely worried, but Sam just looked exasperated, even as they were frisked and his pistol was confiscated from the waistband of his jeans.

"Dude, how many times have you been arrested?" she asked Sam in a whisper as they were led toward the cars.

"Five and counting." He muttered back, and Mallory just shook her head.

"I am going crazy. There is no way I made friends with criminals. By the way, how many times has Dean been arrested?"

"Nine."

"Jesus."

Nobody seemed like going easy on them, so by the time they were actually stuffed into the car, they both probably had a bruise on each arm from the men's grips. The head policewoman sat in the passenger seat and another man drove.

"So, you two want to tell me what happened?" she asked harshly, not taking her eyes off them. Mallory narrowed her eyes defensively, but Sam spread his hands and answered, "We were walking by and we saw the girl lying in the alley. So, we did what anybody would do and went to see if she was alive. Then you showed up. End of story."

The woman sneered. "So why did we find weapons? It's not usual that somebody is going for a nice, leisurely walk with his... friend... with a gun in his pants? Or a blade tucked into her sneaker? I'm going to ask you one last time, what happened?"

Mallory fidgeted angrily, wanting to snap at the officer for almost ripping her lucky high tops open. Sam kicked her in the leg. Nobody spoke as they frantically tried to come up with a cover story. Fortunately, they were saved by the car pulling up to the station.

"Sam. Sam. Sam." Mallory kept bumping her shoulder into Sam, who was paying attention to the officers surrounding the car. "Sam!"

"What?" he asked crankily.

"Look."

There, across the street, was the Impala, with Dean in the driver's seat. Dean made eye contact with Mallory and winked, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. She smiled gratefully and rolled her eyes. When she looked up again, she got an eyeful of an officer's ominous reflective sunglasses, and was yanked unceremoniously out of the car and shoved toward the door.