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With an oddly familiar feeling, Sam blinked open his eyes and winced at the throbbing in the back of his skull. He tried to raise a hand to feel the bruise but found that his wrists were tied to the chair behind his back. Why did this keep happening to him? With effort he focussed his vision on the floor, and the boots in front of him. The heavy black boots in front of him, that were attached to someone wearing dark jeans and a monochrome t-shirt, someone who had lightly tanned skin and longish black hair that was strangely reminiscent of Sam’s own. Someone who was glaring at him with intense, hate shadowed eyes.
“Luther? What are you doing?”
“I’m – I’m going to kill you,” the vampire nodded to himself as he said this, steeling his resolve and not taking his eyes off Sam.
“Did you follow me? All the way from Colorado to Dakota? And – where’re the rest of you guys? Where’s your pack?” Sam glanced around the darkened room – it looked like some kind of warehouse – but couldn’t see any sign of the other vampires.
“They’re still in Colorado,” Luther leaned forward and lowered his voice, “they kicked me out – said I was obsessed – wasn’t leading them – ha!” he laughed suddenly, shakingly and Sam realised that this was a very different vampire to the confident alpha he’d been captured by before. “So,” Luther raised a hand, pressed it to his mouth, still staring at Sam and then half-pointed at him with jerking movements, “I’m going to kill you. And then – I’ll get your brother – and your father – and then I can reclaim my pack.” Luther leant back in his chair, nodding slowly, his eyes wide.
Sam blinked at him and then looked at the floor, a bitter smirk contorting his face.
“Dad’s dead,” and Dean was at Bobby’s place fixing up the Impala and probably wondering where the hell he was. Crazed vampires were the last thing they had been expecting. Bloodthirsty demons, yes; but not crazed vampires.
“I – I’m sorry,” Luther sounded so sincere Sam looked up in confusion, but the vampire was already shaking his head and backtracking – “No – I mean,” Sam could see him mentally flailing before he found his idea again and clutched onto it, glaring at him once more, “I’m going to kill you.”
“Right,” Sam said, without much conviction. He wriggled his wrists around, trying to loosen them, but to no avail. If there was one thing this vampire was good at it was trying him up securely. Probably the only thing he was good at when it came down to it. He glanced around the room again as Luther fought a subconscious battle with himself, looking for exits or things he could use as weapons on the off chance that the vampire actually did try to kill him. Because he didn’t feel like dying quite yet, and Dean needed him.
“Right,” the vampire finally said, standing and moving closer to Sam, who did the first thing that came to mind and kicked him in the knees. Luther buckled, probably more from surprise than anything else and backed away from him, snarling. Sam flipped his hair out of his face and raised his chin defiantly.
Luther circled and Sam tried to turn with him, but then the vampire was gripping the back of the chair, and winding a hand into Sam’s hair, and Sam was hoping this wasn’t going to be like last time with the forced kissing because that was not something he wanted to repeat. Especially after he’d woken the night after the last time with the remembered sensation of Luther’s mouth on his, vivid in his mind and flooding through his body. No, those dreams did not need any more fuelling, thank you very much.
But then he was suddenly worrying about quite different matters, as Luther pulled his head to one side and bent to brush his open mouth along Sam’s neck. Sam tried to jerk away, but Luther’s weight kept the chair grounded, and his hand, fisted in Sam’s hair, kept his movement to a minimum.
“Keep still,” the vampire ground out, and, with few other options, Sam stilled. He could just see Luther’s head lowering in his periphery vision and then he felt the first pointed whisper of fangs against his skin and couldn't help his sharp intake of breath as he tried not to panic and looked for a calm way out of the situation. Again he jerked away and Luther tugged painfully at his hair, “Stop moving!”
Sam quieted again, because something told him that the vampire wanted to draw the moment out – and that was stalling in itself. Again Luther went in for the kill, edging closer, and closer - and then suddenly he dropped his cool forehead onto Sam’s neck, sagging a little as if in defeat. Sam let out his held breath but didn’t move as the vampire’s hand uncurled from where it was pulling up his scalp, and came to rest gently against the other side of his neck as though he were holding something precious. Time stretched out as the vampire held his position and then he pushed roughly away from Sam with a frustrated growl and stalked away from him – and then right out of the room without a backward glance.
Sam slumped in the chair – as much as his bonds would allow – and shook his head at the ceiling, hoping desperately that he would never have to see Luther again.
It was a surprisingly short time later that Dean found him in the warehouse, still sitting impatiently on the chair.
“What the hell was that about?” his brother asked as he finally undid the bonds, “I just got this call saying you were here and I’d better come get you soon if I cared about you and then the guy hung up – I mean, what gives? Am I not a nice person to talk to?”
Sam rubbed at his wrists and listened incredulously, “It was that vampire – the same one that got me last time.”
“He tried to kill you again?”
“Yeah – he tried – but he let me go.”
“Why?”
Sam shook his head, looking at the dark corners of the room suspiciously, “Beats me,” he lied.