They proceeded to the nearest church to get their knives blessed by a priest and then to the health food store to pick up the ingredients for the concoctions, and during the entire trip, the feeling of being watched never left her once. She tried to ignore it, to push it to the back of her mind, but the hairs on the back of her neck would not flatten and her mind kept screaming at her to seek out the threat.

When they returned to the motel room with all the ingredients, they get to work concocting the mixture that will stun the Lamia long enough for them to burn it if a direct approach doesn't work. They had agreed to perform the incantation and hunt it down that night, not wanting another woman to fall victim to the demon.

While Dean is taking bathroom break, she takes the chance to pop out and get a breath of fresh air. Before she leaves, she makes sure to stuff her knife into the side of her boot and her gun into the back of her pants, hiding the bulge with her jacket. With a hastily scribbled note for Dean, she closes the door behind her and makes her way down the street.

It is a short walk to the convenience store and only a handful of cars pass by her, which is normal at this time due to most having already gone home after work. The sun has started to set and paints the sky in vibrant reds and oranges, the clouds alight in the fading sun.

She reaches the store after a few minutes and pushes the door open, listening to the ding of the bell above the door as she enters. The woman working the counter greets her with a kind smile when she walks in and she returns it in earnest before making her way towards the aisle with the chocolate bars and sweets.

Scanning the shelves, she finds what she came here for within seconds.

She grabs three packets of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups off the shelf and holds them gently in her hand as she walks towards the beverage section, pulling a mineral water out of the fridge. As she is making her way up to the till, she does another sweep of the candy aisle to snatch up a bag of sour gummy worms for Dean.

She pays for the items, taking the change and plastic bag offered to her, and waves farewell to the cashier as she exits the store. Rounding the corner back to the motel, she only gets a few steps down the sidewalk before an odd sensation creeps up her spine, crawling its way over her neck and settling in her hairline.

She sees no one when she takes a cautious look over her shoulder, but she remains on high alert nonetheless, senses heightening as instincts kick in. She forces one foot in front of the other, continuing on her path back to the motel, and resists the urge to break out into a full blown run. If she does that, she knows she'll alert whomever is following her – if there even is someone – and they will probably attack her to stop her from escaping.

Better to just play naïve and hope for the best.

She strolls past a darkened alley, the evening sun barely reaching two feet down the narrow space, when a quite whistle echoes from deep within the cramped walkway. Peering into the shadowy depths, she tries to make out any movements, but all she sees are dumpsters and other forms of junk littered on the ground.

Shaking her head, she pushes herself to resume walking, but finds she is unable to move – the same adrenaline that normally drives her to fight now roots her feet to the ground. She whips around at a sound behind her and comes face to face with a raven-haired young woman.

"Who are you?" she hisses and steps backwards in an attempt to gain some distance, her legs cooperating now, but the woman replicates her movements with predatory grace.

"No one really, just someone who likes to eat." She shrugs while staring at Laine with a deadly gleam in her slanted hazel eyes.

Snaking her right hand behind her, she grasps at her gun hidden there, but before she can pull the weapon free, she is shoved into the alleyway. Hands claw at her shoulders to restrain her against the brick wall, and she can feel bruises forming already.

She attempts to struggle against the grip, but soon realizes the action to be futile as the strength of the woman quickly overpowers her own. Her attempt to escape doesn't get her what she wants, instead earning her a rough shove into the bricks, her head smacking against the hard surface.

Her vision swims and she shakes her head to try to clear the image of multiple women from her eyes. The attacker takes this moment to chuckle and moves her body closer to Laine's her face becoming crystal clear before her eyes.

"When I first saw you, I knew there was something different about you. My tastes are quite reserved, but you just smell so much sweeter than pregnant women and their delectable babes. I can't quite put my finger on it, but you've got this heavenly scent about you that I've never smelt before." Her voice is smooth and flows off her tongue like liquid gold, the sound sweet to Laine's ears, as she strokes a hand through her hair and down to her cheek.

Instead of voicing a reply, her eyes dart around the area in an attempt to find something to help her escape. Her back is plastered flush against the wall, the bulk of her gun digging into the lower half of her spine, and she is unable to move even an inch due to the body pressing against her.

A sharp tug on her chin has her gaze moving up to meet the other woman's, the irises of her eyes glimmering with hunger. She twists her chin out of her grasp, but she regrets her decision when a hand cracks across her face. Her head whips to the side and momentarily connects her temple with the building, her vision going black for a second.

"Don't make me hurt you," the demon hisses, her chilling stare fixing on Laine again. "I've been asking myself this question over and over again, but I can't come up with an answer. Maybe you can help me."

"What?" She grinds out the words, now careful with her what she says as a hand strokes the cheek that was just struck, the demon's face right next to hers.

The woman breathes in deeply and goosebumps raise on Laine's arms and neck, but she ignores the feeling and starts contorting her hand at odd angles to try and reach behind her. Her attacker must realize what she is attempting to do, for her hands move from her shoulders and down to her wrists, pinning them to her sides.

Sharp nails prick her skin as the demon inhales against her neck, both sensations unpleasant and causing bile to rise in her throat, but she forces it back down and focuses on the task at hand.

"What are you?" she murmurs, nuzzling deeper against Laine's neck. "Why do you smell so good?"

Moments pass as the demon continues to nose at her neck, her tongue darting out every few seconds to swipe against her skin, only lingering for a brief touch, but it causes her to flinch each time. The grip on her wrists loosens a fraction of an inch and the body against hers sags, as if her scent is driving the demon crazy with want.

This is her chance to escape. It's now or never.

Putting all of her strength behind this attack, she raises her knee and connects it with the stomach of the demon, sending her reeling backwards. It doesn't do much, but it gives her a brief window of opportunity to run.

Her body moves on its own accord and breaks into a full sprint down the alley, her feet thundering against the pavement as she tries to see through the fog clouding her eyes from the sudden movements.

She barely registers the sharp jab in her back before she is sent crashing to the ground, her head and chest getting the brunt of the impact as a heavy weight settles on her back. Tingles shoot through her body akin to those when limbs fall asleep, and she feels bogged down as if stuffed full of lead, her body parts glued to the spot in which they landed. She tries tilting her head to move her face off the concrete, but the pressure on her back and whatever force numbing her body restricts her from doing so.

Scalding breath fans across her face, casting a stench of flesh and something else with a copper tang into her nostrils. All feeling slips from her body and she lays there motionless, even the simple task of opening mouth stolen from her. The only movement she is able to make is blinking her eyes, but even that is becoming a struggle and keeping her eyes open isn't going to save her life.

A cold hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her arm backwards at an odd angle. Her shoulder pops out of place and she is unable to voice her silent screams of pain as the breath is ripped from her lungs, an electric shock darting down her arm as the limb falls limp at her side.

"I may not be able to do much damage in this form, but I can still kill you while you lay here, unable to stop it. What a pitiful death you will have," she coos, her knee digging into Laine's spine.

Another soundless bellow builds in her chest, but it remains trapped in her lungs, unable to resound throughout the alley to alert someone to her struggle. Even without screaming, she feels faint of breath, her ribs straining against the weight being applied, and her eyes dart around frantically in search of a saving grace, but none are to be found.

"This would be much easier if you stopped resisting the inevitable. Just let the poison take its course. This will all be over before you even know you're dead."

She tries to scream again, this time in a plea rather than pain or fear, but she is till helplessly voiceless. She realizes now that she is going to die in this damn alley, and she can't help but think about all the regrets she has and the things she wishes she could have said.

The numbness reaches from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, her eyes drooping shut at a steady rate, and she no longer feels the intense pain from her dislocated and bruising limbs. Her heartbeat slows, the organ struggling to pump blood through her veins, and she feels it thump tiredly against her chest and in her ears, her breathing becoming laboured and shallow as it escapes her purple-tinted lips.

"That's a good girl, now just re–" The demon's voice sputters out above her, an agonizing screech replacing the soft words as something drips down onto her cheek – she feels it plop against her skin, but is unable to determine if it's warm or cold.

Even in her fading and sensation-deprived state, she swears she feels the heat off flames burning next to her.

The weight encasing her body vanishes, leaving her feeling as if she is resting atop a plush cloud. As her eyelids slide shut and the pain begins to ebb away, a sweet coldness sweeps over her as a distant voice beckons her closer. There is another voice shouting through the haze of collective ones, the sound vaguely familiar to her ears, but barely audible amongst the constant murmur of the dead.

The voice is warm... and safe.

No longer does she feel the hard press of concrete on her body, the roughness soon replaced with delicate firmness as she is cuddled against something warm. Fingers stroke her hair and her face and her arms, words encircling her ears but not entering her mind.

The voice becomes louder as it begs and pleads, but she ignores it, allowing the weightless sensation to overtake her body as she is pulled into the darkness by millions of voices surrounding her – pulled away from the bright green above her begging her to stay.