Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
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I didn't even have time to react before he pulled away, head pressed to my forehead as my entire body raced with energy. For some reason, my mind couldn't seem to make heads or tails of the situation as he traced his thumb along my cheek, a single tear falling down his own. Our eyes were locked onto each other and the amount of raw emotion I could see staring back at me was terrifying. No one had ever looked at me the way Future Dean was in this exact moment. Lust, desire, anger, annoyance, all very normal looks I have received. However, there was depth in this: genuine care. It didn't make any sense.
In a flash, my assailant was ripped off of me and pushed back. "What the hell was that?" Normal Dean yelled from between us, head darting back and forth.
Shaking my head and running a hand through my hair, I gave them both a look. "Umm, shouldn't that be my line right now?"
Dean just watched, completely flabbergasted as his older self just stared at me with a small, hopeful smile etched on his beautiful face. "You're alive." He whispered as if the world had finally given him something good. My heart couldn't seem to find a normal speed with his eyes locked on me like that.
"Alive? You mean I'm dead in this time line thingy? Come on!" I threw my arms up in annoyance, spinning around and taking a few steps away from them to try and catch my breath without their prying eyes.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I fiddled with the safety on my gun nervously thinking of what to say as Dean continued freaking out. "Why are we kissing her? You know she's-"
"-a siren? Yeah, we do." I spun around, eyes wide at the casual way he said it. His eyes were still trained on mine as if he didn't care that his younger self was about to blow a gasket. "And we don't give a single flying -"
"She's a what?"
My thumb went to the safety on the gun again. "You do that when you're nervous." Future Dean whispered as if we were the only two in the room. "Mess with your gun, or your knife. What ever weapon you can get your hands on. Always have." How did he know what I did? I threw the gun onto the table as though I'd been burned.
Swallowing hard, I opened a hand toward normal Dean. "Listen," I tried to calm him down, "I didn't want you to find out like this. I'm not a full siren. Barely a quarter. Mom was half. I'm not a monster. At least," I cleared my throat, "not in the traditional sense." The disgust covering his features couldn't stop the pain that was leaking into me. The word 'abomination' rolled through my head as I watched him shake visibly.
"I need some air."
"Dean!" I shot a hand out to stop him but he dodged, shooting me a look that could have curdled milk as he pushed out of the door.
Future Dean's arm snaked out and grabbed my bicep, keeping me from following the other Dean out of the door. "Give him a breather," he advised with a soft voice I'd never heard him use before.
