The bodies are both cold and doll-like, the faint indigo tint of their skin accented against the metal table they rest upon, arms limp at their sides. Closed eyes stare up at the ceiling, never to see the light of day again. Blood no longer colours their flesh, and the veins the liquid life had pumped through can be seen beneath their translucent skin as it's drawn taut against the bones. Both don identical incisions in their abdomens, the cut running jagged yet precise, as if the assailant meant for it to be a pristine mess.

Laine traces the path the cut takes with her eyes, noting the clean lines done with practiced ease.

The cut starts at the top, near their ribs, where the instrument had punctured the skin with a light prick and then delved deeper at a slow pace until it was lodged in their skin and muscles. It travelled downward and tore the tender flesh apart, threads of sinew ripping apart one at a time. The instrument had gotten caught halfway through its travels and it was pulled up an inch to relieve it of its fixture before it dived in again – not too deep, but deep enough to slice through each piece of flesh in the way. By the time it had reached the end, the incision was complete and a signature was left behind.

When it had reached the end just below their belly button, it had stopped for a split second before it was yanked upwards, pulling away a piece of skin along with what it had been searching for all along. The victims had long since died due to the trauma and severity of the incisions, their lives ending before they had any chance to even attempt to stop what was happening. Their stomachs were drawn apart in perfect symmetry down the center, and the life they had been guarding within was snatched from them without any remorse.

Claw marks were left on each of the victims, three in total and akin to a signature for the work the demon made of these women. To Laine, it seemed as if the demon was proud of her work and wanted to show her masterpieces off to the world, signed neatly with her name so no one else can take recognition for her work.

She wants to be sought out, she wants to be found, and by God, they will find her.

Yet, during the entire time the horrible act was being committed, no blood had been spilled and gotten in the way of the prize the demon was after. It was as if their life essence had been frozen in their veins, their hearts failing to pump the evaporated substance to where it needed to be.

This is what confuses her beyond measure; how this could have happened without the spillage of what every human has flowing through their bodies. Even an insignificant little paper cut causes blood to rush to the surface, so how a gaping wound did not spill a drop baffles her.

All of the medical examiners that have been called in to analyze the body to see if they could determine what exactly had stopped the bleeding had come up blank, only getting a result regarding a paralyzing toxin that hasn't existed for hundreds of years. They all said it to be impossible or a fluke, yet every time they re-examined the substance, they came to the same results as before. It confused them and frustrates the two hunters beyond belief.

They finish talking to the examiners as fast as they can, excusing themselves once they have an opportunity before they rush out of the laboratory and into the vacant hallway.

"This doesn't make any goddamn sense," Laine huffs and runs a hand through her hair, eyes closing in frustration.

"I know." Dean leans against the wall opposite the laboratory doors, a hand shoved inside the pocket of his black slacks.

She opens her mouth to say something, but an officer walks past them and she waits until he rounds the corner and is far enough out of earshot before speaking.

"We need to figure out what this thing can do, and fast, 'cause if she can paralyze people, we're kinda fucked," she states as she fishes her phone out of her pocket, tapping a few times on the screen.

Holding it up to her ear, the sound of the ringing resonates through the hall. It takes a moment, but soon enough, someone picks up on the other end.

"Hey, Laine. What's up?" Zach greets, a yawn following his words. How could he still be asleep when there is a case to be solved and research to be done?

"I need to know everything you know about the Lamia. Now," she barks, mumbling a hasty apology right after. Zach's chuckles and dismissal of her apology can be heard along with the shuffling of papers and clicks on a keyboard.

"Give me a minute, 'kay?" he asks and she nods even though he can't see it.

They both fall silent and she lets her head drop a little, her body sagging in exhaustion. She and Dean had been running around all morning since leaving the motel, going from the precinct then to the hospital and then down to the morgue. They've been here for the last hour and a half, and still no progress has been made.

Things just aren't looking up for them right now.

She begins tapping her nails against the water cooler next to her in a rhythmic fashion as she waits for Zach to speak again, and hopefully he will have good news to share with her. Dean's eyes fall on her and she feels it more than sees it, but when she looks up from the floor, the message of irritation is displayed in his gaze.

She returns her own stare with a quirk of her lips, challenging him to do something about her nail tapping, but he only shakes his head and looks the other way. A huff of triumph builds in her and she is about to release it along with a sassy remark to Dean, but Zach's voice carries through the phone.

"Okay, so we found out a bit more about them." He starts then pauses and she sighs; he never has been an easy one to get to talk. He always gets distracted by what he is reading and will forget about what he is doing or who he's talking to.

"Zach, spill it. Stop reading ahead of the class. We're running short on time and I do not feel like dealing with another dead chick." She twists a strand of hair around her index finger and then lets it fall, repeating the action as she waits.

"Right, sorry. Well, you already know about their appearances..." He trails off and she confirms, urging him to continue. "Okay, so they get their prey using the talons on their hands and the head back to their nest before eating. They leave the mothers where they kill them and don't care about burying the evidence. In their natural forms they don't have eyes, but their other senses are heightened and they become quite strong.

"Does it say anything about a poison or toxin in their bodies? Something that can halt the flow of blood?" she asks, holding up a hand when Dean motions for her to either put the phone on speaker or relay what Zach is saying.

"Let's see..." She is nearly able to hear the gears grinding within the genius, knowledge-filled melon of his as the words are uttered. "Actually, yeah. It mentions something about a paralysis toxin. There isn't an official name for it, but it's injected through their claws upon contact and paralyzes anyone who comes into contact with it. Prolonged exposure causes death."

"Gimme a sec." Getting fed up with Dean's pestering jabs on her arm and the constant muttering in her ear about him not being able to hear the other side of the conversation, she drags him down the hallway and into the ladies restroom. She does a quick sweep of the room and stalls while Dean locks the door.

Tapping the speaker button, she holds the phone in her palm. "Sorry, Dean was being an ass. About the toxin... does it only work in their true form? And does it have to be blood contact or just skin?"

"It doesn't say in this text, but we'll keep digging around. If I find anything else, I'll call." Laine nods and is about to hang up when Jamie says something, his faint shout making her pause.

"Something else?"

"Oh, I almost forgot. We found out how to kill it."

Dean groans and thumps his head against the wall of the bathroom, regret and pain contorting his face as he rubs at the back of his head. "You almost forgot?"

"Sorry, I've got a lot on the brain right now," Zach replies in a grumpy tone. "If you're done being rude, would you like to know how?"

Before Dean can make another remark towards his brother, she holds a finger up in a shushing motions and sends him a pointed look when he swats her hand away. "Please."

Instead of Zach's voice answering her, it's now Jamie.

"You gotta stab it through the heart with a silver knife blessed by a priest, and then burn the body or it'll come back."

"Why can't we just use our normal weapons? They're made to kill demons," Dean says, eyebrows drawing together.

"Because certain demons weren't made the way others were, and require different methods to be killed. Did you not pay attention when I explained this to you years ago?" she mutters while turning to Dean with a sigh.

"Not really." He laughs, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Well, any weapon's not gonna be much use if you can't get close to it. They like to put up a bit of a fight," Jamie says, successfully interrupting their little argument.

"This isn't gonna be easy, is it?" she asks, not really expecting an answer, as she leans against a stall door.

"If you can't get close, there's a mixture you can throw at it. It won't kill it, but it will down it long enough for you to stab it and set the damn thing on fire. You're gonna need rosemary, salt, powdered angelica, and holy water."

"How're we supposed to kill it if we can't find it?" She rests her head against the door, mind processing and cataloguing all of the information being handed to them for later. She forgot how tiresome demon hunting could be after years of not doing it, and boy, she did not miss it at all.

"Right, we learned something about that, too." Zach comes back on the line and he wastes no time switching into lecture mode. "Lamia let off a certain scent that attracts males, and it can be used to track them. A small incantation and a mixture of herbs, and you'll be able to see the scent trail left by the demon, which should lead you to its nest. Well, only Dean can see it since he's a male. I'll send you a list."

She mutters her thanks and can't help but sigh, figuring that if she wouldn't have called and asked, they would have been going into this blind.

"Okay, that it?" Dean asks.

"Like I said, you don't got a lot of time before it's back on its feet, so you burn that body straight away. They get real pissed after almost being killed," Jamie states.

Dean lets out a groan, obviously not looking forward to tangoing with a demon. "This should be fun."

**********

"Hey, you okay?" Dean asks as they head out of the station. They make their way down the steps and across the road to where the car is parked, her eyes darting around the area.

"Yeah, why?" She spares a quick glance at him over the top of the car before they climb in. Kicking off her boots, she stretches her toes and can't help groaning at the pleasant relief.

"You've been on edge the whole day, and I know it's not from being around dead bodies."

When she looks up, Dean isn't looking at her but rather past her, eyes trained on the building they were just in. Shrugging, she follows his gaze back to the building and the surrounding area, an involuntary shiver skittering across her skin.

"I... I just have a weird feeling in my stomach that won't go away," she mumbles and averts her eyes from outside, instead grabbing Dean's CD collection out from the glovebox. "Y'know that feeling when someone is staring at you?"

"When did it start?"

"I don't know. Last night, maybe? The feeling was there when we arrived here, and when we left the motel this morning, and everywhere I go, my stomach is in knots," she says with another shrug as she begins shuffling through the plethora of classic rock and new age alternative rock mixes.

"You think the Cambions have tracked you here?"

"I have no idea. It's a possibility, but don't you think they've would've shown up by now?" Her gaze flits up just in time to see the concerned and confused look Dean throws her way. "Either way, something's not right here."

"We'll figure it out." When she nods, he looks down at the black case in her lap. "You gonna pick something?"

Cracking a small smile, she rifles through the case for a second more before she sees a Fall Out Boy CD sticking out amongst the Iron Maiden and Metallica. She pulls the disc out of the protective film and holds it on her index finger, allowing Dean to see it.

"I didn't know you had a thing for Fall Out Boy," she teases with a grin, which earns her a hard look from Dean, one that sends her into barely repressed fits of laughter. "Hey, I'm not judging."

"Zach left it in here and I just threw it in there," he states without meeting her eyes, instead looking out his window when they come to a stop at a red light. Shrugging at his obvious fib, she pops the disc into the player and waits for the music to start.

"I thought you didn't let people mess with your music in here," she points out and glances to her left to watch his reaction. His mouth opens and he starts to say that he doesn't, but stops himself and shoots her an unpleasant look, eyes filled with mock heat. "Exactly."

"Shut up," Dean mutters before the beat of Centuries fills the car.

She signs out the words to the song, only stopping her mini concert when something Jamie said earlier rings in her mind. "Dean, you ready to confess your sins?"

He glances over at her for a moment before turning his eyes back to the road. "Why?"

"We have a priest to see. It's time for Church."