Chapter 15

ATTENTION. READ THIS CHAPTER BEFORE YOU READ THE NEXT... I accidentally uploaded the next chapter before this one.

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As soon as Castiel's feathery ass disappeared, I collapsed on the King sized bed. I was asking the same question: Why? Nobody seemed to have the answer.

"What's Cas talking about?" Sam sat next to me, "What's wrong?"

"Well," I sighed, "since the whole sword thing- when Cas told me about it the first time- I started to be able to pick up other people's emotions. Feeling it in waves. Like- right now, you're feeling angry-" I waited a moment, "Confused, sad... And anxious?" The last emotion came out as a question. Why would he feel anxious?

Sam's face paled, "at least it's not like what happened to me a few years ago."

"The... Ruby thing? Where you needed demon blood to function. Yeah... I know. But... This. It's scaring me. What's the next thing? Telepathy? Being able to murder someone with one thought?"

Sam lied next to me, and pulled me into his chest. We both heaved heavy sighs. What was really happening to me?

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Rubbing the eye boogies from my eyes, I sat up. The sun lightly streamed through the motels window. Sam was still hooked on to me. I looked at the ancient clock. 7 AM. Again! I wake up early. I guess now would be a good time to check the news. See if any new people are dead. I silently opened Sam's laptop, and went to the news site.

ANOTHER MALE BODY FOUND. SAME LAKE . SERIAL KILLER?

Sounds like our monster struck again. Wonderful. Time to get ready for another FBI scene.

But, first. COFFEE.

The heated coffee hit my tongue. It was wonderful to wake up to caffeine. Did I tell you I was addicted? I mean... Eh, I can't come up with something.

"Whatcha' doin'?" Sam asked.

I nearly jumped out of my skin,"when did you get quiet?"

"I don't know. You were in your own little world." He shrugged and grabbed a coffee cup.

We sat in silence with our coffee. I had at least three cups before I actually wanted to speak.

"Another death. I say we go check out our bodies." I set my empty cup in the sink, and went to my duffel.

I grabbed out a pair of slacks, a purple striped button up, and a black blazer. The shower was calling my name.

_____

After my much appreciated shower, I dried my hair, and got dressed. I applied light makeup just to add to the FBI thing. I think? I don't know. I usually don't wear makeup.

As soon as I was out of the bathroom, Sam hopped in the shower. My holster was still in my duffel, and my 9 millimeter still in the same place. I grabbed them out, and slid the holster up my leg. My weapon became concealed, and I was ready. My FBI badge was still in my blazer pocket, and everything was in place. Sam was soon in his suit, and his tie untied.

"Need help with that Sammy?"

I walked over to him, and quickly tied it. He was about to protest, but it was too late. I already did it. He lightly glared at me , and I smirked.

"Let's go blow this pop stand." I mumbled, getting ready to leave.

Sam put his weapon in the waistband of his pants, and his badge was in the car. I sat in the passenger side of the Impala, and let Sam drive his brothers car.

To the morgue!

__________

"So, what's the low-down doc?" I asked.

"You didn't read the coroners report?"

"Never got it." Sam interrupted.

"Well," Dr. Vargas pulled out the first body, "all of the Vic's have the same markings. They have risen skin where- what I assume were hands- something was placed. On the shoulders, and on the flattest part of the shoulders. Also, around their necks were hand prints. And then, if you look at their tongue-" he put gloves on, and grabbed the victims tongue, "it has teeth marks. Abnormally sharp teeth marks."

I looked at Sam, and back at the victim, "Is there any other abnormalities? Like in the blood... Or brain?"

"Actually," Dr. Vargas took the gloves off, tossed them, and cleaned his hands. I pushed the table back, and Vargas continued, "I took a blood sample, and all of their bloodstreams had something weird in it."

"What kind of weird?" Sam asked.

"There was an NMBD in their blood samples."

"NMBD?" Sam asked.

"Neuromuscular Blocking Drug." I answered, "Which one?" Sam looked super surprised I knew what that was. Fun fact: my mom was a doctor. She told me these weird terms.

"I can't determine that. And, if I wanted to, I'd have to send it to the CDC. There's too much in their blood stream to be considered controlled." Vargas grabbed a blood sample.

I grabbed it and looked. Two liquids were in the vial, "What's that yellow oil looking liquid?"

"NMBD takes on the form of an oil. If you look at water and oil, oil is less dense than water. So, it floats to the top. That's exactly what that's doing to the blood. After a certain amount of time, the NMBD will ware off. But, this isn't what killed the Vic's. It was the high amount of oxytocin." Vargas continued, "So, something happened, and the oxytocin and NMBD mixed, creating a deathly mix."

Sam looked at me, "What the hell is oxytocin?"

"It's a hormone... Usually comes from the posterior pituitary gland, and it's usually released during sex." I made a grossed out face, "These men were killed during... Sex?"

"Yes." Vargas answered, "All of them. Anything else?"

"No. Thanks, Dr. Vargas." Sam shook his hand. I did the same.

As we left, I got the chills. I was so grossed out, and I felt like death. Gosh, now I hate being near a mortician. They always have the feeling of death. Shudder.

Sam and I got in the car silently.

"What're you thinking it is?" Sam asked.

"I don't know... A siren maybe? What I want to know, is why these men?" I tapped the dashboard. Sam started the car, "I mean-" I pulled the files from the back seat, "they have no connections. They're all from different states... Never been to jail. And they were... Divorced. From the same woman. Mary Gilligan. There's our connection."

"I say we talk to the ex-wife." Sam said, peeling out of the parking lot.

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Sam and I found Mary Gilligan's address via the internet. Gosh, I love the internet. Even though it's a little creepy. Sometimes. 90% of the time.

I knocked on the door, and waited for someone to answer. When someone did, it was a dark haired woman, maybe mid forties, with short hair, and a lot of makeup on.

"Hi, Mary Gilligan? I'm Detective Kylee Schmidt, and this is my partner, Detective Smith. We're here on behalf of Martin Fleet's death." Sam and I flashed our badges.

"Why are you here?" She asked. She seemed a bit nervous.

"Well, while we were looking though files, you were his wife," Sam said.

"Uh, we got divorced a few weeks ago. But, come on in," she reluctantly walked to the side, and let us into her home.

Sam and I sat on the leather couch , and Mary sat on the love seat.

"So, when was the last time you saw Mr. Fleet?" I asked.

"When we were in court," she answered.

"How long were you married?"

"A year. We had a falling out... And we decided what was best."

"When Martin died, where were you?" I asked.

"Are you accusing me of murder?" She asked, slightly angered.

"No, it's just procedure." Sam saved my ass.

"I was at home," she simply said.

Sam looked at me, then back at Mary, "Where are your facilities? I uh- need to use them."

Mary gave him directions, and I already knew what he was doing. Looking for hexing ingredients and a grimoire. Or something suspicious.

"So, is there anything about Mr. Fleet that was... Weird the last time you saw him?" I leaned a little, "Like... Was he on edge? Scared? Angry, tired... Anything?"

"Not that I could see."

"Okay," Sam came back in the room, "Thanks, Ms. Gilligan. We appreciate your time."

Sam and I left, getting back to the motel. It wasn't too far, and Sam told me there was nothing. Nothing suspicious about her house. Sam went to his computer, and looked at more files. I grabbed my own laptop, and looked for any more recent deaths. Another Vic was popped up in the news. Adam LeafHart. Same death. Same place.

"Sammy, pull up Adam LeafHart's records." I ordered.

He did as I said. He didn't have any spouses or any marriages. He was slightly younger than the other victims. He wasn't married to Mary. His records were squeaky clean. Nothing wrong. Aside from the fact that he's dead.

"What is this thing?" Sam and I mumbled.

I sat down. My brain was fried. This sucked! What could possibly be killing only men... But, placing them by a body of water? It seems like a Siren to me.

Before we could get comfortable, we had the idea to go to the scene.

___________

The police were about to put Adam into a body bag, but I stopped them. I checked his pockets for a cell phone, or something. I pulled out a receipt. And a cell. I gave the men the okay to put him in the bag.

I walked back to Sam and the impala.

"Can we maybe hurry home to do stuff?" I asked, sitting in the passenger side.

"Sure." Sam put his foot on the pedal.

We made it home in record time. Sam opened his laptop and cracked into the four victims phone records. They all called the local bar. All within 24 hours of each other.

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A/N: NEW!!!!! Yay! They're back on the cases. What do you think is the problem?

~Mae