Dean was in a mood. Which might have been why Sam had thought his skills were better used on research than following Dean to the scene of an animal attack that had left a bunch of teenagers dead (and seriously, was every law enforcement officer in Virginia a complete idiot? No animal killed that way). Plus, he hadn’t realized until he put it on that he’d bled on this jacket last time he’d worn it (at least, he hoped it was his blood). Plus, he was one massive bruise. Plus, breakfast had been terrible. Stingiest bacon rashers ever and about half fat. And the eggs were overdone. And the sun was shining, which did nothing to ease his irritation.
“Agent Scott,” he said to one of the officers, pushing through to where the bodies were. He crouched on the ground.
Vampires. The other kind. The opposed to daylight, allergic to wood kind. He sneered, and waved off the objection of one of the deputies.
“Most of this is federal land,” he bluffed. “And this MO matches another dozen bodies found in state parks in the last two months.” True, ish. More like hundreds over the last few years, but he wanted it to sound like a serial killer, not a pack of wolves.
One guy looked out of place. Not in uniform – well, not a cop, anyway, actually looked like he could be cosplaying Dean, and fuck but it didn’t annoy Dean that he knew what cosplaying was. Dean stood up and crossed to the tree the guy was leaning against.
Damn, same height. Dean preferred to be a little intimidating. Guy didn’t look intimidated. “You find the bodies?”
