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Cold-Blooded Lover

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"Can't trust a cold blooded woman

Boy, don't you lie in her bed

You can't trust a cold blooded woman

She'll love you and leave you for dead

There's one thing you must understand

You can't trust a cold blooded woman…"

-The Pretty Reckless

"Cold Blooded"

Dean Winchester wants to get drunk. Sam's whining like a little bitch, and the ghost they'd just roasted had been one sick motherfucker. So he finds the skeeviest bar around and drags Sam in without a word. Booze and chicks. Perfection. Sam sulks in a corner booth and Dean heads to the bar. That's when he sees her.

She's quite possible the hottest girl he's ever seen. Her legs are long and bare and toned as fuck. She's wearing a tiny black leather mini skirt, and a tank top that's riding up in the back to reveal smooth olive skin. Her hair is long and brown and it slides down her back like a waterfall. She's got on these black leather boots that look like they've been to hell and back, but somehow they just make her more attractive. Her fingers fiddle with the charms on a bracelet she wears. She takes a sip of her drink and glances at a guy in the corner playing pool. She looks down again. Dean wants to fuck her.

She looks younger than him, but that's never stopped him before. The only thing standing in his way was the frat boy creep hanging all over her. Dean stops a few feet down from them, and asks the bartender for a couple of beers.

"Baby, you've got to be the tastiest thing I've ever seen in my life," the creep tells Dean's mystery girl. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and sips her drink. A lazy smile slides across her flawless features. She leans towards the man.

"Why thank you, you're not so bad yourself," she practically purrs into his ear. Dean's eyes widen in disbelief. The man smiles like he won the lottery. In the background, some bottle blonde cheers when the man playing pool wins.

"What's your name, sugar?" the man asks the girl. She smiles and stretches one lithe leg under the bar.

"Ellie," she answers in her sultry voice. Dean takes his beers and leaves, because he can't stand the thought of a goddess going home with a frat boy like that.


Dean almost forgets about the goddess at the bar. He's pleasantly buzzed when Sam declares it time to head back to the motel. Dean leaves with little to no protest because he's in a relatively good mood. He absent-mindedly notes that Ellie and her creeper are gone, as well as the man playing pool.

They're walking towards their room when they see a couple canoodling. Sam stops him. They watch in sick fascination. It's the creep from earlier. He kisses his way down the girl's neck and slides his hand along her perfect thigh. It's Ellie. Dean is a little put out by the display, so he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Sam jerks him into the shadows.

"Ow, that hurts. Not so hard," Ellie moans as the guy nibbles at her neck. He grabs her hip and bites harder. She cries out. Blood slides down her chest. The frat boy ignores her whimpers and grinds down on her. Dean and Sam exchange glances, so they miss the figure of the man from earlier, the one at the pool table.

Just as the brothers are about to spring into action the pool player slams a wooden stake into the man's back. Ellie relaxes as he pulls him off and she touches a hand to her neck, wincing slightly.

"Took you long enough," she grumbles at the man. In the back of his mind, Dean notices he has black hair and blue eyes. He smirks at her.

"Sorry, I thought you were enjoying yourself 'Ellie'," he drawls condescendingly. Dean is trying to process what he's seeing. The creature that was feeding on Ellie struggles against his hold. Ellie glares up at the dark-haired man.

"Fuck you," she spits fiercely.

"Maybe later," he retorts with a smirk. She rolls her eyes at him and turns her attention to the creature with the wooden stake in his back. She steps closer and slides a smooth hand along his jaw. It glares at her.

"Oh baby, don't be bitter," she coos with such saccharine sweetness that it makes Dean's skin crawls. "We just want to ask you a few questions," she declares with wide, innocent eyes. The man holding the creature watches her with fascination, as if he'd never seen her before.

"Fuck you, you filthy witch," the creature spits back. Dean flinches when the girl's face goes blank. The creature spits up a bit of her blood and she grins. She leans closer. She pulls a vial from her boot and dips a finger into it. She drags her nail along the creature's jaw and it screams in agony. Dean and Sam can hear the sound of skin sizzling from their hiding space.

"I'm not a witch, baby," she coos. "I am one hundred percent human. My friend on the other hand, he's a lot like you. Just, older. Stronger." The creature's eyes go wide.

"Please, I don't know anything! Leave me alone!" the creature begs. Ellie presses her body close to the creature, dipping her finger back into the vial. She drags it down his neck this time and it screams louder.

"Oh baby, I haven't even started asking questions yet," the girl purrs in the naughtiest voice Dean has ever heard. The girl might be a sadistic psycho bitch, but she was still hot. "So tell me, sexy, where is he?" She asks as she strokes his cheek. She whispers something in his ear that Dean can't hear. When the creature whimpers but doesn't say a word she nods her head at her friend. He smirks and twists the stake in his back. His screams echo off the walls.

"Baby, you know you can't lie to me. I know you work for him. So just tell me where he is, and I'll tell my friend to let you go," she says with wide innocent eyes. Dean almost believes her.

"Look, I don't work for him directly. I'm just a messenger. I go through this guy-" the girl cuts him off.

"Then tell us where to find this guy," she says with an acidic smile. The creature stares at her. She stares back. He tells her. She smiles slow and sweet and brushes her fingers along his jaw.

"Thank you baby," she coos into his ear. She looks at her friend and nods. He jams the stake right through the creature's heart. He tosses the limp body to the ground.

"Good job Elena, didn't think you had it in you," her friend says with a smirk. She smiles back. She places a hand on her wound and hisses. "Here let me fix that," the man says in a softer, more intimate voice. His eyes go black, and veins stick out around his eyes. He opens his mouth to reveal fangs as he bites his own wrist and feeds it to Elena, his hand resting on the back of her head tenderly.

Vampire. Dean thinks distantly. It was unlike any vampire he had ever seen before. Elena moves back and he can see the wound on her throat closing up.

"Thanks," she says breathlessly. The man nods and then drags the body over his shoulder.

"I'll take care of him, you go wash up," the man says and he begins to walk in the opposite direction. Elena waits until he's gone before she lunges for the trashcan beside her and heaves. Blood and bile come up and she gags and sobs.

"I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this," she chants in a low whimper against the metal of the trashcan. Dean wants to say something, but finds he has no words for her. She shivers and stands up straight. Wiping the blood and bile from her mouth, she fishes a motel key out of her boot and walks right past Dean and Sam's hiding spot. She keeps her head held high, half-dried tears travel the perfect curve of her cheekbone, and Dean finally realizes how young she is, she's just a kid really. He wonders how she got mixed up in all this supernatural bullshit and who, or what, she is searching for.

"I know what you're think Dean, and no," Sam says once she's out of earshot. Dean turns to him.

'What do you mean, 'no'? That prick is vampire, she's just some dumb kid, we kill the son of a bitch and send her ass home," Dean declares incredulously. Sam shakes his head at him.

"It's not that simple and you know it. She's in charge, you can see it. That thing, he did whatever she told him too. Clearly there's more to their relationship than meets the eye," Sam says impatiently. Dean stares at his brother like he's never seen him before in his life.

"He's a fucking monster, Sammy. And she's just a kid. We can't just leave them alone. He has to die," Dean argues. Sam sighs.

"Dean, I don't think it's like that at all. He might be a vampire, but she was bleeding all over the place and he didn't even take a sip. Hell, he even healed her with his blood or whatever, Dean, I think they're friends,' Sam explains. Dean glares at him like he's insane. "Look, we're both a little drunk, and we can't deal with this right now. Let's just go to our room and go to sleep. We'll leave in the morning. We can't save everyone, and quite frankly, she looks just fine to me."

Dean wants to argue, but he knows Sam is right. Despite her minor breakdown over the trashcan, there's nothing wrong with the girl, as far as he can tell. Her vampire is taking very good care of her. So Dean lets Sam drag him to their motel room, and tries his best to forget about the mysterious Elena.