A/N: This didn't turn out exactly how I wanted it to, but I thought "what the heck?"
"Was there anything strange about the body? Like, was it missing a heart, for instance?" I asked the coroner.
He gave me a funny look. "Well, if we're talking strange then yes. It was bled dry."
He pulled out the tray and uncovered the body. I stared. The body was shrunken and emaciated. "And this is the third one this week, correct?"
The coroner nodded and sighed. "Yep."
"And all three cases the victim was under the age of three, correct?"
"Yes."
I 'hmmm'd. "Yes, well, if you get another one like it, call me."
"I will do so, Agent Seger."
A week had passed since I'd started working with Dylan and surprisingly we'd managed to find a job in town which made it easier than risking the threat of using aliases that my brothers might recognize.
I missed them, but to tell the truth, I kind of liked this. It was nice to be out of their overprotective shadows for once.
"So all three have been sucked dry?" Dylan asked me over the phone as I unlocked the stolen car's door.
"Yep. Sounds like a vamp, but they don't usually go for kids. They like the big meat."
"True. So what then? A chupacabra with a taste for human blood?"
I backed out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway. "Not sure, it's doubtful. They stay down south. Last one I heard about went only as far north as Louisiana."
"Yeah. I'll be at the library. See what I can dig up on it."
"K. I'll meet you there."
Three hours of research had turned up nothing. "Hey, was there any puncture wounds on the body?" Dylan asked.
I shrugged. "Coroner wouldn't let me touch it. Something about the parents weren't allowing the police to 'dig around inside their children'."
Dylan scoffed. "Well, looks like we've got a job tonight."
I nodded in agreement just as my phone went off. My "Shoot to Thrill" ringtone blasting full volume and echoing around the room. I jumped and every person in the library turned to glare at me. The librarian narrowed her eyes.
"Sorry." I said meekly, declining the call and turning off my volume.
Dylan covered his mouth with his hand to hide the fact that he was laughing at my red face. When his stifled laughter died down he said, "I can't believe, that you, the nerdiest of all nerds forgot to turn your volume off."
I glared and resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. For about three seconds. He shook his head and grinned crookedly.
Not for the first time since meeting Dylan was I glad I had.
* * * * *
I held the flashlight low and looked around us, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement. So far all I'd seen were three cats and about a dozen birds.
"Got it." Dylan said, prying up the glass with the tips of his fingers.
We both quietly slipped inside the boiler room and I carefully closed the window back. We slipped up the stairs and down the halls until we came to the door of the morgue. I picked the lock this time while Dylan played lookout.
Once inside I pulled out one of the three occupied drawers and pulled the sheet down.
"That's just sick." Dylan said. I agreed.
I looked over the head and neck checking for puncture wounds. I ran my hand along the back of the neck but I didn't find anything. "There's nothing here."
"Nothing at all?"
I shook my head and looked back down at the body. Something stood out from the golden colored hair on the boy's head. I picked it up. It was a strand of thick black hair. "Or maybe this is something."
* * * * *
I wiped a hand down my face and over my tired eyes. I sighed. "I got absolutely nothing."
Dylan sighed. "Me neither." He slammed the computer mouse down on the table. The librarian gave us a hard look. "But I did find out about a woman dying in childbirth about a week before the killings started. Could have a connection."
I nodded. "Vengeful spirit maybe? Her and her child dies then she takes revenge on any happy family she can find."
"Or," Dylan stared at the computer where he'd been typing away as I spoke. "It could be a Langsuir."
"A what?" I scooted over to him.
"I searched black hair and sucking infants blood and this is what I found." He gestured to the computer screen where there was a picture of a woman with long black hair, claws, and a bloody hole in the side of her neck.
"Really? What exactly is it?"
"Uh, says here that in Malaysia when a woman and her baby died in childbirth she sometimes became a Langsuir if she wasn't buried properly. Looks kinda like a vamp."
"How do you kill it?"
Dylan hummed in the back of his throat as he scrolled through the website. "Nothing here about killing them. But you can tame them by shoving their hair into their feeding hole."
"How long does it last?"
"Thirty to fifty years."
"That's not long enough. We need something that could kill her."
"But it could buy us some time for now."
I pursed my lips. "Fine. I think I know where the thing might be holing up. We'll check out the place tonight." I grabbed the map of the area I'd filled with x's and connected them. "Here." I said, pointing to the spot. "All the killings were within a five mile radius of this forest."
"Great, so we get to trek through a fifty mile wide forest in the middle of night."
I rolled my eyes. "It's not fifty miles wide, it's a national park and it's only ten miles wide."
Dylan sighed. "Great."
* * * * *
"So you're sure that silver will work?"
"Yep." I answered loading my pistol. "People used to bury them with silver needles to prevent them from becoming Langsuirs so it should work to slow her down."
"Let's hope."
We slammed the doors shut on the truck and hid our guns until we got deeper into the woods.
"How do we know she's not on a hunt?" Dylan whispered.
"Because all the other hunts were on even days. It's the seventeenth. She won't hunt tonight."
"Hope you're right." Dylan whispered for the billionth time tonight. I fought the urge to roll my eyes again.
A rustling noise came from our left. Then an owl hooted up ahead. "I read something about Langsuirs becoming owls at night." I said quietly. "Let's split up. You take the left, I'll go on ahead."
"Alright."
I walked as quietly as I could, stepping over sticks, and pushing aside low branches. A twig snapped behind me and I turned. Another movement stirred beside me and I jumped around only to startle a few birds from their hiding places in the bushes.
I let out a breath of annoyance and relief. Then, suddenly a scream filled the air.
My eyes widened. "Dylan!" I cried.
I hiked back through the woods following the direction that the solitary scream had come from.
I didn't risk calling his name again in case the creature was nearby. All of a sudden I heard three gunshots pierce the still air. I stopped to listen where they came from and then continued my path.
I heard someone grunt and then another scream, higher in pitch, like a banshee.
"Dylan?" I called quietly. Something was moving to my right and I turned, gun raised, finger poised on the trigger to shoot.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dylan stepped out of the brush, hands raised in surrender. He was covered from head to toe in mud, leaves, and twigs. A long nasty cut ran down his chest and blood was soaking his torn shirt. "Don't shoot. I mean, I know I look pretty bad, but nothing like that thing." He grinned.
I let out a sigh of relief. "Gosh, you're such an idiot. What happened? Are you alright?"
"Well, you were right. Silver slows them down. And look what happened when I stuffed her hair into her feeding hole." He dragged a body out from behind a tree. It was a woman with long dark hair and a beautiful face if you didn't pay attention to the mud covering it. "No teeth, no talons. They just disappeared."
"Nice. Let's get her out of here."
We ended up taking the woman to a hospital three towns over, hoping that no one would recognize her under a false identity.
And fortunately for us the woman woke up with no memory of her previous life. I felt a little sad for her, but at least this way she could start anew. She wouldn't have to deal with the past sadness of her life.
Now it was time to find a new job.
* * * * *
"I can't believe this!" I cried running into our warehouse.
Dylan looked up, startled. He put down the magazine he was reading. "What is it?"
I slapped the newspaper down in front of him on the small battered worktable. "There's been another killing."
"What?" He exclaimed.
"Another infant, sucked dry. Last night."
Dylan stared at the newspaper before picking up. He looked up at me. "Guess the whole hair thing didn't work."
"Figure that all out by yourself, did ya, Sherlock?" I asked. I picked up my gun from the table and checked to be sure it was loaded. "Lucky for you I already found out how to kill the thing. You got to tame her, and then shoot her with a silver bullet."
"Tame her first? So she'll be human when we kill her?"
I looked at him. "She's not human." I stated. "She's a monster."
"So am I."
I blinked at him. "Dylan, you've killed monsters before. This isn't any different. Now let's go. We gotta check out her old hiding spot."
"I've been doing some thinking." Dylan began quietly as though he hadn't even heard me at all. "Maybe I shouldn't be alive. I'm a potential threat. Maybe I should be dead, too."
I stared at him. "What are you talking about? You're not a threat. You're a hunter. And you've got yourself under control."
Dylan shook his head and stood up. "I haven't always. I've killed people you know. I haven't always been good."
"You've changed." I stated firmly. "You haven't killed anyone in months."
"But you don't know what it's like never knowing when there might be something, someday, just one thing, that will push you over the edge."
I stared at him for a long moment before taking his arm in a firm grip. "Listen to me." I said slowly. "If you so much as think about putting a bullet through your brain, or getting yourself killed, then so help me I will kick your ass up one side of the country and down the other. Got it?"
Dylan stared down at me, shocked. Here I was, a twenty year old female hunter threatening him.
I raised my eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Finally he narrowed his eyes and the ghost of a smirk whispered over his lips. "Yes, ma'am."
I let go of his arm. "Now let's go."
The Langsuir had taken up at its old hiding spot so it wasn't too hard to find. Dylan got a hold of the creature and tamed it while I waited for it to transform so I could shoot her. When I saw the poor woman lying there I held a moment of doubt, but I didn't allow myself more than that before I pulled the trigger.
Being a hunter was hard. It always had been. Especially at moments like this.
"Start digging and I'll go get the kerosene and salt." I ordered, allowing myself one last glance at the body before turning.
Dylan smirked. "I like it when you get bossy."
I rolled my eyes and started back through the woods when suddenly I felt a hand on my arm. I turned. "Yeah?"
I felt lips on mine. I stood stockstill for about three seconds before I kissed back. I deepened our kiss and I felt him run a hand through my hair. The other hand cupped the back of my neck. For a werewolf he had soft lips and he kissed gently.
Finally we came up for air. "Is this the point where you give that cheesy line 'I've been wanting to do that since we met'?" I asked, breathlessly.
Dylan laughed and then kissed me again. This time I kissed back completely.
* * * * *
I stared at the names in my contacts and the dozens of missed calls.
My finger hovered over the call back button beside Dean's name. It had only been a month, and I'd gone without seeing Sam for almost four years. But they were the only family I had, unless you counted Bobby.
The screechy garage door opened and I looked up in time to see Dylan enter and toss me combination supper and breakfast. I smiled slightly in thanks.
"What's wrong?" He asked sitting beside me on the sleeping bag.
I shook my head. "Nothing. Just checking my voicemails.
Dylan scoffed and opened the cups of coffee he held. "Sure you were." He pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and poured a gracious amount into each cup. He handed one to me. He made a mock toasting motion. "To the great life as a hunter."
It was my turn to scoff at that, but it was halfhearted. I sipped my coffee, and then smiled. To tell the truth, my life wasn't so bad.