Under a blood red sky

She still hadn't found out much information for Thomas, and she felt like she was failing. She knew that these things took time. She just had to keep trying, but there were moments when Justine wondered if she was helping him at all. She didn't voice these doubts to him. She knew he didn't see her as a failure at all. He would say that she did a lot for him just by being here, and she had to admit that she kept him on an even keel when he potentially could lose his patience. She just had to keep trying.

Tonight she thought to try one of the local dance clubs. The scene in York wasn't anywhere near what it was in Chicago, but she could still blend. She had been paying close attention to exactly where the pulse of fashion lay in this quaint little town and dressed just slightly better than that. She wanted the attention after all, and at the very least she could find someone to entertain then be able to snuggle up next to Thomas without fear.

It was just after 11PM when she entered the club. It was substantially warmer inside than out even with the mild weather they'd been having lately. This suited her, and her little slip of a dress that left a lot of leg, and a lot of back showing once she had rid herself of her coat. Being back in an element she knew she could control and was familiar with, a sensual and confident smile curled the corners of her lips as she sauntered her way towards the bar. Drink first. Then dance. And prowl.

Dean was really touched by what Jo did for his birthday. He'd been carrying the knife in place of the smaller one he usually had on him, and he kept smiling whenever he looked at it. He was lucky, and he knew it. Whatever reason there was for it, he was a lucky bastard. God, demons, the Devil and everything in between.

And pie. She'd given him pie. Dean loved everything when there was pie.

For now, though, he wanted answers about what had happened. That dream. Dreams. Whatever. And he figured Harry had 'em. Dean was out the door and intending to hit Dresden's just as soon as he had some caffeine in him. He stopped for a cup of coffee at the Dunkin' Donuts on the main drag, then sat down with it, breathing in the dough smell and debating Boston creme goodness.

Once she'd woken up for the evening from the mess of a dream Saerian invaded, Phaedra immediately called Lindsey to make sure he was okay. She'd gone right for the source, though, and tried to find the man himself. It'd failed.

Two nights later, she was heading over to Lindsey's motel. There was too much going on to let him out of her sight for long. She knew he might be moving location, soon, too, and couldn't blame him. Saerian knew where he was. Might as well make it a little harder for the bastard.

She stopped just short of a block away from the place and turned around. There was someone there. She wasn't an easy woman to find, and not easy to track; she'd been moving faster than a human eye could see for most of her trip over.

A hand touched the hilt of one of her daggers, and she raised an eyebrow. She could feel someone there.

"This should be interesting," she said.

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