Part 7: Transformation

Dean liked taking naps in the Impala. He was used to it after years on the road and participating in many a stakeout. He especially liked it when he had the chance to nap because Sam had taken it upon himself to be first shift.

It was early afternoon and they hadn't had lunch. Dean was sleepy. Besides, it didn't take two sets of eyes to watch as a pretty young brunette and a gorgeous blonde succubus chatted over coffee.

Muddy Waters Café was on the way from Downtown Minneapolis to the area known as Uptown. It was small enough to keep a good watch over, and had parking spaces within easy view as well, so the Winchester didn't have to take things so far as spying over their own cups of coffee inside. At this point anything they could do to keep a low profile was a good thing.

Sasha had been hitting the work places of the old victims, asking specifically about a blonde that had been hanging around before the girls' deaths. He hadn't yet met up with the brothers, but told them over the phone that he was being fairly successful in confirming their suspicions over the blonde Sam and Dean were watching. She fit all the descriptions. The only place that couldn't be sure about her was the "Gay 90s", and understandably. More bottle blondes then cold be counted moved through that space on a regular bases. Some actual women. Some near enough.

Before hanging up a few hours before, Sasha had said he was going to make a few more stops and then meet the Winchesters wherever they happened to be. Unless of course something drastic happened. So far nothing had, and Sam had been keeping Sasha up to speed through text messages about their whereabouts. Dean would have done the honors, if he knew much about texting or how to do it, that is.

Technology just wasn't Dean's thing, and cell phones were way too complicated these days. All Dean needed was something to make and receive calls from and that could keep his messages. Sure Dean used his phone as an Ipod and took embarrassing pictures of Sammy sometimes, but all that texting and crazy stuff got to be too much for him. He still had to ask Sam to help him whenever he felt like changing his ring tone. Currently it was set to the new Finger Eleven song, "Paralyzer," which Dean had to admit—though not classic rock or metal—was pretty damn good.

Dean's mind was wandering over all these things, current events, the case, Sasha…as he began to drift off. He hadn't really intended to. Usually napping in the Impala meant dozing or resting one's eyes in the Impala, not actual sleep. But today Dean was tired. He still felt a little off after last night's alcohol overdose, not to mention the shock to his system when he went to see if Sasha was awake that morning and found his latest food source—Ian, the intellectual and very male film student.

Dean groaned in his sleep. He was dreaming about that morning, about finding Ian in Sasha's room, only it wasn't how it had actually been. Dean walked right in on them still in bed, and they were not sleeping. The only thing Dean could be thankful for was that the covers had most of the view obscured, but really that only made Dean's imagination run wilder. He could still see the position they were in—Ian face down into the pillows, Sasha on top of him…moving—and he could hear them too, which made it all the worse.

Even as Dean was taking all of this in, he knew he was dreaming. He closed his eyes and rubbed at them with both hands, something that usually always worked for getting him to wake up. But this time when he brought his hands down again, the dream was still in front of him, only now Sasha had noticed Dean was there. The incubus flashed that smile of his, never once ceasing his movements, and oh so coolly asked if Dean wanted to join them.

A faint gasp left Dean as he awoke, his eyes slowly focusing on the lock of his door, pressed down as they all were to keep out possible threats. There were no such locks, however, at least none Dean knew of, to protect him from the threatening nature of his own damnable mind.

Dean had to focus; he had to get himself together. Any sudden movement or sound would alert Sam that something was up—Dean was surprised the gasp hadn't been enough—and then there would be worrying and ultimately…questions. Dean didn't think he could take that, so he did his best to remain quiet and collect himself. Of course, he had little choice in the matter, since he looked up just then out the window, and, being met by the grinning face of Sasha on the other side of the glass, he immediately screamed. Oh, it was no girly scream by any means, but a good 'ah!" fell from Dean's lips regardless.

Promptly ignoring Sam and any remarks his brother might make, Dean began to roll down his window so he could glare at Sasha properly. "Dude," he growled, "Don't do that. You trying to give me a heart-attack?"

And of course Sasha just had to be grinning as if he thoroughly enjoyed catching Dean off-guard. "Sorry, man, it looked like you were awake. I just keep startling you lately, huh?" Sasha winked at that, but it wasn't his usual wink, the one that made Dean think Sasha was hitting on him. This was more like a peace-offering, like maybe Sasha was worried he had shocked Dean one too many times.

That had to be because of Ian. After all, Sasha didn't know about Dean's traitorous dreams. And Dean had to admit, Ian was a much bigger shock.

"Dean…you know…about this morning…"

Oh shit. "Not my business," Dean said quickly. The last thing Dean wanted right now was an explanation, or God forbid an apology. "Assuming should be a cardinal sin. I shouldn't have…yeah. So let's just forget it, huh?"

By this time they had pretty much forgotten Sam was also in the car, trying desperately to disappear into his seat. "Dean, it freaked you. I'm not an idiot," Sasha said, "That nice job of mumbling you just did there, that's all you've said to me save maybe two words since my little co-ed left this morning."

Dean had the sudden urge to laugh at that use of the term 'co-ed'. He didn't, but he also couldn't deny that Sasha was right. The only reason he knew the guy's name was Ian or that he was a film major was because he was in the room when Sasha and Sam were oh so politely discussing it. Dean knew it was Sam's way of dealing with Sasha being an incubus, it was the way Sam always dealt with things—the more he knew about it, the less it worried him. But Dean had to sit there, hearing them talk about the guy, when all Dean wanted to do was forget the guy existed. He hadn't picked up on the guy's name at the bar the night before because he hadn't been interested in the guy at all, and he figured Sasha wasn't interested either.

Being wrong about that just shook Dean. It wasn't that he really cared who Sasha fucked to feed off of. What did that matter to him? Sasha would never see Ian—or that female bartender from the other night more than likely—again. So why the hell was Dean feeling and acting like he was…

No, Dean wasn't going to say it. It was official. Sasha had permanently fried his brain. Dean decided it must have happened the night he and Sasha shared the feeding experience. Yeah, that had to be it. Something was definitely wrong with Dean in the head.

"Dean?"

"Yeah…yeah, I know I've been kinda…quiet," Dean said, trying to look Sasha in the eyes, but ending up staring at his door lock again, "I was just…surprised. Not a big deal. Really."

Sasha was quiet for awhile. Then suddenly he called across the car to Sam and said, "Hey, Sam, you can handle a little lookout on your own for a sec, right?"

That got Dean's attention. He turned to look at his brother and saw Sam just sitting there gapping like an idiot, wishing he was still being ignored, and trying desperately to make his mouth work properly. "Uh…well, I mean…sure. I can…do that."

"Thanks." And Sasha reached in the window, unlocked Dean's door, opened it, and then just took Dean by the arm and literally hauled him out of the car.

There was nothing Dean could do. Struggling certainly wouldn't help matters. Besides, he could feel the futility of that in the vice that was Sasha's grip. He realized then that a little of Sasha the incubus was showing through, and that did not make Dean feel any better about the situation.

"Come on," Sasha said, half dragging Dean along with him as he took them behind a nearby building. It was pretty much an alley, complete with dumpster, various types of grime, and of course there wasn't a single soul in sight.

"Whoa, okay?" Dean said, finally feeling Sasha's grip loosen enough for him to pull his arm free, "What are we doing?"

Sasha turned back to Dean, satisfied that they were in an adequate enough place to talk this out. "We have a problem here," Sasha said, and there was a seriousness to Sasha's words that made Dean pay close attention. Sasha never sounded that serious. He even crossed his arms, which universally meant hostility or some form of challenge. "Look, I've enjoyed our little roundabout way of going about this and all, but the truth is…you're starting to distract me."

"What?" Dean was definitely confused now. "I'm distracting you? Okay, first," Dean started in, because now he was more than ready for a fight, "You keep hitting on me. I thought you were just messing around. Sam thought you were just messing around. Then you keep…doing things, and when I find you with a guy instead of a girl this morning it's all business as usual."

"Dean, you knew I planned to take someone back with me last night," Sasha said, charging right into the confrontational tone that had been set, "So it was a guy. Big deal. Or so you keep saying. But it's really driving you crazy. And what's distracting me is you being driven crazy. It's so…frustrating," Sasha added, practically tossing his hands into the air.

At least his arms weren't crossed anymore, Dean thought. But the elder hunter was still confused. What exactly were they talking about? "Back up," Dean said, "What do you mean roundabout way we've been going about this? And why does me freaking out have anything to do with you being distracted?"

Now Sasha really looked frustrated, but he was an easygoing guy by nature, that Dean knew, and so it was no surprise that Sasha took a moment to calm down before he spoke again. When he did speak, he took a few very deliberate steps closer to Dean. "You really don't get it, do you?" Sasha said, "It's driving me crazy now and you don't even get it. Dean," Sasha stressed, and his voice fell a little. The animosity had faded as well, but the intensity was still very much there. "I'm an incubus. It isn't possible for someone to be attracted to me and for me not to know about it. Especially when I'm spending most of my time with them."

Whoa. Back up. What? Dean was suddenly very aware of how close Sasha was getting, but for the life of him he couldn't think how to move away.

"Maybe I was just messing with you at first. I have to admit, it was kinda fun."

Sasha was getting very close, enough that Dean could smell that Sasha smell again.

"But Dean, I wouldn't push the way I have been if I didn't think something might come of it. I wouldn't make advances…if I didn't think you kind of liked it." Sasha made to close in then, to close the last of the gap between them, and God knows how Dean managed to come back to his senses in time to move out of the way.

"Whoa," Dean said, leaning as far back as he could to avoid whatever Sasha had been intending to do just then, "You need to just…back up, buddy. I don't know what you think you know about me, but…attracted…to you? Not possible. Sounds more like you need to get that incubus sense checked coz it is way off."

Sasha looked a little disappointed but eventually just looked skeptical. "Dean, again, I am an incubus. You can't lie to me, or fool me when it comes to passion or attraction. That you can only do to yourself. Trust me, if someone is attracted to me, I know. How do you think we hunt?"

This was not a conversation Dean planned to have today. Or ever. "Look, I'm telling you, it's just not possible. You're not attractive. I mean," Dean shook his head and tried to find a better way to say that, "You're attractive just not…to me, okay?"

Finally taking a step back, Sasha crossed his arms again and gave Dean a once over that was entirely scrutinizing. "Okay," he said finally, "Let's make a deal."

"A deal?" Right now all Dean wanted was to get out of this alley.

"A deal," Sasha repeated, a small smile playing at his lips, "Either you're attracted to me, or you're not, right? So we find out for sure. If you are, you have to deal with that. If you're not, I have to deal with being wrong—for the first time in my life, I might add. Also, if I am wrong, I promise, hands down…I leave you alone. No more flirting. Nothing. Sound good to you?"

It sounded too good. There were only so many ways Dean could prove he wasn't attracted to Sasha, and he was pretty sure he knew what the incubus was going to suggest without prompting, "So…how am I supposed to prove it?"

That small smile turned only too quickly into Sasha's devilish grin. He dropped his hands to his sides again and shrugged. "It's simple enough. You let me steal just one little kiss—"

"Ha." Dean laughed, if a little uncomfortably.

"And," Sasha went on, "If you feel nothing, really nothing, fine, I'll accept it. But if you do…"

"What? Your next feeding time is me? I don't think so." Dean really wanted out of this alley. He couldn't understand why his legs weren't moving.

But Sasha, in that moment, while answering that question, didn't look devilish at all. "Whoever said I only wanted to feed on you?"

Dean was fairly certain he shivered, but at this point it was hard to keep track of how many times that had happened during this conversation. He couldn't actually agree to these terms. It was ridiculous.

"Come on, Dean," Sasha pressed, though he didn't make any moves to bring himself closer again, "Just one kiss and we can end this little dance we've been doing. Fifty-fifty chance."

No, this had to be a bad idea. It had to be. "Listen…I…"

"Come on, Dean," Sasha said again, "Don't you want to prove me wrong? Or," Sasha's mouth quirked up again, devilish as before, "Are you afraid I'll be proven right?"

That was it. There was no way Dean could turn down a bold-faced challenge like that. Besides, he had nothing to lose. He knew he was right. He had to be. "Fine," he said, feeling a surge of panic the moment the word left him, "But I swear, if you try anything…"

"Just…a kiss," Sasha promised, at last beginning to move again. He only had to take a few steps, but Dean certainly wasn't going to bridge that new gap, "Just a kiss…" Sasha said again, and he wasn't giving Dean any time to prepare for this, he was just moving in for the kill.

Dean tried to tell himself this was a good idea, tried to focus on Sasha no longer hitting on him and being able to just put all this weirdness behind him. He would much rather be friends with the guy than deal with all these freaky feelings. Sasha was an incubus. It's not like any of this was normal.

That got Dean thinking. Incubus.

"Wait," he said, a hair's breath from Sasha's lips and feeling suddenly very short and very small, "No…incubus stuff either."

Sasha's brow creased. It was so close to Dean he could count the lines. "Incubus stuff?"

"None a that….you know…pheromone crap. No cheating."

The lines in Sasha's forehead disappeared again, and he smiled. "Dean, I wouldn't do that. This is just us. Just Sasha and Dean. For all intents and purposes, right now I'm practically human."

"Ha," Dean laughed, "Right."

"No tricks," Sasha said, very softly again, and moving in that much closer so that he was practically speaking against Dean's lips, "Just…" the word was pure breath, and he didn't say anymore, he simply closed the gap.

Dean didn't even realize his eyes were already shut. Half of him thought he must still be dreaming and that when he opened his eyes again he would be back in the car with Sam. His senses told him different.

Sasha's lips, damn, they were so much like the dream, that first dream, that Dean couldn't believe it. They were as soft as Dean's were chapped, and pliant, and giving. Dean found himself leaning in, reliving that sweet, perfect part of the dream when he wasn't afraid of anything, not even the kiss. Then Sasha's lips were moving against his, and Dean was moving his too, and their mouths were open just enough that the smallest tilt of Sasha's head pushed the kiss deep enough to touch tongues. Dean shivered, and shivered again when he felt Sasha's hand at the curve of his face and neck, gentle, guiding.

It was lasting too long already, Dean knew. He had to think quickly. He readied himself as much as he could and pulled away, smiling.

"See," he said, and his voice didn't waver in the least, "Nothing. Sorry, man."

Sasha just blinked at him, frowning for awhile, until finally he found a smile too, though it wasn't a truly happy one. "Fair enough," he said, pulling his hand away slowly so that it brushed Dean's neck as he lowered it, "Thanks for…humoring me," he added, and after stepping away from Dean completely, he nodded towards the way they had come, "Guess we should go back."

"Yeah…" Dean nodded, "Just, uh…give me a sec, huh? If I look all flushed, Sam'll get the wrong idea." He grinned, his wide and devious grin.

A laugh left Sasha, though it wasn't as full of humor as usual. "Gotcha. Take too long though and I bet he'll still worry." Sasha stretched his own grin, but it wasn't genuine. Not really. Sasha didn't want to be proven wrong, but he accepted defeat and headed out of the alley, leaving Dean alone with the dirt and grime.

As soon as Sasha was out of sight, Dean fell back against the wall, not caring about how dirty he was making his jacket. Finally, he could breathe again, and his breaths came shallow. His heart was still beating so fast; he had been certain Sasha would hear it. The flush to his cheeks was not from embarrassment, Dean couldn't deny that. He brought up both hands and ran them hard through his hair.

Practically shaking and swallowing low against the pounding of his heart, Dean looked up at the sky and pleaded, but he doubted anyone was listening.

"I am so…screwed."

It was official, this had turned out to be the most boring hunt they had ever been on. Dean couldn't take any more of just watching the two women—or woman and succubus. They had spent the whole day together. Coffee and talking, shopping and talking, walking and talking. Did women ever stop talking?

The brunettewith blue eyes and the succubus with blinding blonde hair had driven together—in the brunette's car of course—back to the brunette's apartment around dinner time. This apartment was actually downtown and very close to the Guthrie Theatre where Sam and Dean had first spotted the pair. They assumed the brunette had initially been heading home when the blonde caught up to her.

They were there again, and as much as all three hunters hated it, they were staked out just as they had been with Carol. It hadn't been a full week, but they figured the succubus was desperate after almost getting caught, and tonight could well be the night for the next kill.

Dean was waiting around the side of the building where he had a view of a well hidden window into this new victim's apartment. It wasn't as private as when they were in Brooklyn Park—it was downtown Minneapolis—but it would be private enough for what they had to do.

Dean's stomach growled as he leaned back against the building, watching the window with mild disinterest. He couldn't see the women from his vantage point, but he could see that the lights were on, and would know if there was any big movement. The main watching was done from the Impala. This time they would not make the same mistake they had made before. For one, they knew the succubus was already in the apartment. If the two women moved from the main room, or if any lights went out, they would act, but they had to bide their time. There was still the small chance they were wrong.

Dean thought fondly of the food Sasha had been kind enough to pick up for them for dinner. He still had some leftover Chipotle in the back of the car. But thinking about Sasha forced a slight huff from Dean's lips. Sasha wasn't being kind when he offered to get the food, he was using it as an excuse to get away from Dean. Dean thought that proving to Sasha he wasn't interested would be the end of it. What he didn't want was for them to stop being such easy friends. He still liked Sasha. That never changed.

And of course he hadn't been entirely honest when he told Sasha he felt nothing from the kiss. In fact he had outright lied. Whatever it was Dean had felt when their lips met, it was far from nothing.

Dean sensed an oncoming shiver and pulled his leather coat a little tighter around him. He couldn't afford to think this way. He was on a case, for crying out loud, and an important one where several women had already been killed. Dean had to focus. Glancing down at his watch Dean realized he also had to head back to the Impala. It was Sam's turn. Great.

The walk seemed long and short as Dean moved out of his little hideaway and out to where the Impala was parked. Sam saw him coming and was already out of the car, offering an open driver side door to Dean before Dean was completely across the street.

"Happy hunting," Dean offered to Sam, and with strained smiles they switched places. Within seconds Sam was across the street and gone, hidden back where Dean had come from.

Dean didn't waste any time. Partially out of honest necessity and partially to keep from having to strike up a conversation with Sasha, Dean reached into the back and grabbed his container of Chipotle. He had his mouth full around a bite of beans and rice when the first sounds of Sasha's normal, pleasant laughter filtered over to him.

At this point, Dean couldn't imagine a sweeter sound.

"Do you always eat like it's your last meal?" Sasha asked, grinning over at Dean in what was finally a genuine expression, "The first time I saw you eat, I assumed it was a fluke. Maybe you hadn't had a good meal in a while. But…it's been close to two weeks here, pal, and you're still putting it away. Where do the calories go?"

"In my belly where they belong," Dean said, greedily taking another bite.

Sasha laughed again. "I'm serious. Is the hunter life that good to you?"

Ha. Now there was a thought: hunter life being good to the Winchesters. "Strong metabolism," Dean shrugged, "Sam's the same way. You just wouldn't know it unless he has a bunch of sugar in front of him." Dean grinned at the thought.

One of Sam's few weaknesses was indeed sugar. Dean once got Sam to forget all about a huge fight that he had definitely started and was definitely in the wrong about by buying Sam Cinnabon. Pure genius really.

"Me?" Dean said, "Give me real food any day. I'd kill for ribs, potatoes, and corn bread."

Again came an exuberant laugh from Sasha. "I'll buy you Famous Dave's sometime." He grinned. "And I'm sure I'll be very thankful they give you those little moist cloth things with the meal."

This time Dean was the one who had to laugh, but only halfway since his mouth was full of tortilla. What could Dean say? He liked to eat. And he had to admit he was really happy he and Sasha were talking normal again. All afternoon things had felt weird. Maybe it had been Dean's imagination, or at least only on Dean's part. After all, Dean was the one with issues to get over. Sasha was just…right.

No, Dean thought, not right, just…not entirely wrong. Dean would not admit to being attracted to Sasha. There had to be another answer. Again Dean thought of how he and Sasha had shared a feeding. Maybe that was it. Maybe they formed some weird bond when they did that and Dean was just feeling the affects. Maybe it was an incubus thing. Maybe Sasha was just that good of a kisser.

Yeah, that was probably it. Not everyone was that good at kissing, but Sasha was built for sex, so naturally he would be good at all things sexual. It wasn't Dean's fault. Yeah. Yeah. Dean was definitely not…

"Dean…"

There was a quietness to Sasha's voice, a whisper that made Dean shiver before he could help himself. He really hated how that kept happening.

Looking up from his mutilated Chipotle, Dean found himself practically nose to nose with Sasha. How the hell did the guy get so close to Dean without him noticing?

But despite the lump in Dean's throat, Sasha was not closing in for another stolen kiss, or planning on making any moves. He wasn't even looking at Dean. He was trying to lean past him.

"Look…" Sasha said, in that same breathy whisper. He was pointing up at the apartment building.

Dean looked, not sure what he would find, and then he saw her. The victim. She was standing in front of her window looking out, thankfully not at them, but beyond them out at the city. Behind her stood the succubus, still looking so very human and very, very beautiful. As Dean and Sasha watched, the succubus slipped her arms around the brunette's waist from behind and pulled their bodies close.

Dean gulped. This was bad. Hot. But bad.

Leaning forward the succubus started planting little kisses along the brunette's neck, and with what they could only assume was a smile since the pair was too high up to really make out their full expressions, the brunette turned and started leading the succubus from the window.

Outside it was almost completely dark. It wasn't even six o'clock, but this was Minnesota in late fall. The sun started setting at five.

It was time to move. In a moment's time Dean's food was thrown as safely as possible into the back of the Impala again, Sasha and Dean both had weapons ready but tucked in their jackets, and they were running across the street to get Sam.

This apartment building was a lot nicer and a hell of a lot harder to break into then the last one. Dean worked as quickly as he could on a back door that was in an alley near the lookout point beneath the victim's side window. Dean liked to pride himself on being a very adept lock-picker, but he had to give some credit to this one.

Finally, Dean heard that wonderful click and with a slightly held breath he opened the door. No alarm. Everything would be easier from here on in. Until they got to the succubus, of course.

Dean looked back at Sasha and Sam, who nodded, and they made their way quickly into the building. Making sure to keep their weapons hidden until they reached the victim's apartment, they moved fast, allowing Sam to take the lead since he had the best spatial memory and was fairly certain he could lead them right to the victim's door.

"This one," Sam said, speaking quietly despite their being no one in the hallway. They had passed a few people on the way up the floors, but no one paid them much mind.

Typical. No one knew their neighbors anymore.

Dean reached out to test the door—they couldn't afford to waste time knocking—and cursed when he found it locked. Immediately Dean started to reach for his picks, but he was stopped by Sasha's hand touching his.

"I can take this one," Sasha smiled, and Dean tried not to shiver yet again at the combination of Sasha whispering, touching him, and looking at him like that.

Sasha moved in front of Dean quickly though and took hold of the doorknob. He turned it until he felt resistance, and then…kept going. Dean heard the strained crunch as the lock broke. The elder Winchester had to admit, incubus strength was pretty damn scary.

With a gentle push, Sasha opened the door. The main light was off now and they could hear no immediate sounds. With a quick glance at one another, the boys decided that the women had more than likely moved to the bedroom and they had no time to waste. Barely thirty seconds went by before they found themselves—weapons ready—at the bedroom door. Sam took the liberty of pushing it open and they all cocked back the hammers on their guns.

"Police, don't move!" Dean shouted commandingly.

Sam glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eyes but Dean held firm. It was the first thing he could think of.

In front of them was pretty much what they expected to find, only thankfully there was not yet a new corpse for them to mourn over. The brunette was laid out on the bed in her underwear and bra, while the succubus, quite naked already but still human looking, straddled her.

Again Dean had to think hot. But he shook his head and tried to focus. "So sorry for interrupting ladies, but I'm afraid we have to take the blonde here in for questioning."

The brunette was already gathering up some blankets to cover herself, and the hunters were pretty sure the only reason she hadn't started yelling at them was because Dean said they were police. "Questioning?" the brunette repeated, glancing worriedly at her companion, "Questioning for what? How did you even know she was here?"

"We've been watching her for quite some time, Miss," Dean said, which was actually the exact truth, something he didn't get to say too often.

"We have strong suspicions she is connected to a string of recent murders," Sam added, following Dean's lead and trying to make his voice sound as authoritative as possible.

Dean glanced at Sasha then and understood why Sasha hadn't joined in. The succubus was staring at him and he was staring right back. She had gotten off the bed—and the brunette—and was standing now bare as anything.

This was definitely not a good time to look like they didn't know what they were doing. Dean gestured from the brunette to his brother, "Miss," he said, "If you'll be so kind as to accompany Officer…Sandborn here out of the apartment, it would be best if you stayed with someone else for a few hours. We need to, uh…take the other lady in." Dean realized he was running out of ways to talk about the succubus without sounding suspicious that he didn't know her name.

Again, Sam gave Dean a sideways glance. He didn't like that Dean was taking him out of the action, even if only for as long as it took to get the brunette into one of the other apartments, assuming she knew someone else in the building. But at this point Sam didn't have much choice. He nodded to the brunette and she moved quickly to reach him, getting out of the bed on the opposite side as the succubus and looking very betrayed.

Seeing that her food source was about to get away, the succubus made a quick lunge to grab the brunette, but a step forward from Sasha and wave of his gun kept her in place.

A moment later Sam was gone, the victim with him, and Dean and Sasha were alone with their prey. Dean readied his gun to just fire and get things over with, since the succubus looked so transfixed with Sasha and hadn't made much of a move except to grab for the victim. But something about the way Sasha and the succubus were staring at each other again made Dean pause.

Then Dean realized what it was, and he worried for the briefest moment of betrayal as he had that night when they first discovered Sasha's secret. In the succubus' eyes was a clear sign of recognition.

"So…Sasha dear…still following in Daddy's footsteps, I see," she said, speaking casually despite the tension in her body. She looked twenty-five, just as she should, and absolutely flawless in body, face, and everything else. But Dean knew this hag could be as ancient as stone.

Sasha sort of twitched at being addressed personally, but he didn't lower his gun. "I…I knew it was you. When I saw you after the last victim…I…I knew, but I didn't want to believe it."

Dean almost felt like he was invading a private conversation. Just how the hell did they know each other? Dean looked hard at the succubus, as if that would be enough to make everything clear to him. Strangely enough, it was. The hair was different, but the face…the face he had seen before.

"You blink out of existence. I see you once every, what, five years," Sasha was saying, and his voice trembled in a way Dean had never heard before, "Shi never spoke of you fondly, but not cruelly either. How can you…do these things? Our people do not kill. We take what we need but we always give in return. You've been…slaughtering these women…"

"Hahahaha…" the succubus laughed but it sounded unnatural, emotionless and flat, "Sasha," she said, "Women? Humans are cattle. A good meal. That is all." She took a step, a single step closer to Sasha, and though he held his gun firm, he did not fire. "I thought differently once, like you do now, and like your mother…my poor dead sister."

Dean could have kicked himself for not realizing right away. A brunette, a blonde, and a redhead. There were three sisters.

"But age changes that," she continued, "Experience changes that. Just wait…wait until you find someone so…enticing…that you can think of nothing but possessing them. And when they finally turn from you because they've gotten bored, or they don't feel the same passion as you do, or maybe…just because you tell them the truth…and they see you only as a monster," her eyes flashed and Dean suddenly realized he was looking at red, "Then…then tell me about slaughter."

The succubus moved so fast in the next few seconds that even if Dean had thought to fire, he would have hit nothing but air. In those same short moments, Dean saw the transformation as if in slow motion. Truly, it was remarkable.

The way the succubus rose into the air and grew wings to carry her more quickly forward, wings like that of a gargoyle that stand atop buildings. Her hair, blindingly blonde, grew longer, fuller, and from her temples grew horns, black, that went straight up and came to dangerous points. It was more than Dean could have imagined or dreamed about. The red eyes he could see, the fangs on her eye teeth, and even the claws made from her white skin fading to black where her fingers became talons. Her feet were the same. She had been wearing no clothing, but now there were coverings, strange and black, that gave back her modesty, like a bikini woven out of intricate tattoos.

Tattoos. Now Dean got it, but that couldn't prepare him. Not for how the succubus rushed at Sasha in this new form and slammed him back into the wall, making him drop his gun to the ground. And certainly not for how Sasha pushed with such uncanny strength to get her away. And definitely, definitely not for how quickly Sasha too…changed.

He didn't need his gun, he had claws just as she did, and on his feet as well. He had wings that spread farther than hers for his greater size. Like her, Sasha's hair grew longer, past his shoulders, his eyes blazed red, his fangs glimmered as he growled. His horns grew from his temples but they were different, rolling down and then curving back up into even sharper points than hers. And yes, there were the tattoos—for Sasha's clothing had simply vanished as he changed—the ones on his back to form black wings, and the ones below the waste to cover him.

There was nothing of a man about Sasha as Dean stared at him in the split second he had time to look. But when Sasha charged forward to meet the succubus again and together they soared back and burst out the window to fall gloriously to the alley below, all Dean could think was...

"Awesome…"

tbc...