Dean had just chopped a vampire’s head off, he threw the sword away, his face covered in blood. The hunter’s breath was heavy and he jumped when he heard footsteps behind him, his brother wasn’t with him so he was alert. He had his hand on his gun, but by the time he turned around, a pistol was pressed against his forehead. “Fuck.”
Rich wasn’t taking chances. Anybody -anybody- could be Brotherhood. That meant anyone could be someone sent to kill him or worse, take him back. He was well trained; the other hunter was quick, but Rich was just barely quicker.
“Show me your hands.” Rich said, voice even. He needed to check for the Brotherhood tattoo, the brand that marked someone as one of them. “Nice’n easy, now.”