Jacob was pleased it was going so well, that the beautiful young Jo was following him, was going to be one of his. That it was only a matter of time. It was almost as if he couldn’t have planned it better, and his control was definitely reaching the end of its limit. So it was a good thing, he was realizing, that they were going to take a path that allowed him to take her, to make her one of his own, so much sooner.
The sounds around him were stronger than ever before, the scents overwhelming. Especially the sweet smells mixing with the alcohol, the wood, that was Jo. She was so close to him, it was almost unbearable to keep his human persona up, the moon’s pull taking such a control over him. Hands stayed in his pockets, one already with his claws extended, while the sunglasses remained a permanent fixture upon the werewolf’s face.
"I can trust you, can’t I, Jacob?"
At the sound of her speaking, the words seeming to echo around in Jacob’s head, he smiled back at her. Why of course you can, my dear, he thought, images of age-old fairy tales that had been white-washed flicking through his mind at the moment. Just come a little closer, now. He could picture the way she would look, blood from the bite streaming from a shoulder, or the neck. Perhaps her arm. Maybe go for the chest, and the heart, as usual, but leave her to heal on the edge of death—
But no. All Jacob did was offer a nod with his grin, and while under normal circumstances, he would’ve winked as well, he took her hand instead, giving it a gentle squeeze—but keeping a hold upon dear Jo. “Of course you can,” said Jacob quietly, his one hand that was still normal holding hers, thumb running over her skin. “If I meant you any ill will, Jo, you would know it. You seem like a smart young woman, and smart individuals know whom to trust.”
With that, he made to brush his lips across the top of her hand, an extravagant ruse to play at for the moment as his smile grew—the barest traces of slightly sharpened teeth starting to show.
He took her hand in his again, his hand warmer than the cool evening warranted. Jo wished desperately that she could see his eyes, it would help so much in understanding what he was thinking. Even for someone who’d spent her life reading expressions and facial cues in one bar or another, it was difficult for Jo to guess at his motives without the assistance of his eyes.
His lips brushed gently against the back of her hand and she thought she caught a glimpse of light reflecting off his teeth, teeth that were just a bit off. A vampire, maybe? But, no, that didn’t make sense…his hand wouldn’t feel so warm then, would it? She hadn’t brought a machete, either. Lets hope he’s not a vampire, she thought, It’d be hell to try and saw his head off with just a tiny knife.
Her heart raced, the rhythm pounding against her eardrums. Whatever he was, he could probably hear it, or smell it, or sense it in some supernatural way. She could only hope he assumed it was attraction and not adrenaline that was responsible. By the time he’d raised his gaze from her hand, she’d schooled her expression into one of innocent trust. “I figured as much…I just had to be sure,” she replied, her voice soft. “I mean, you really can’t be too careful these days.” Jo pulled her hand from his, wanting both free in case she needed to fight or grab her weapon, and turned to the path. ”Let’s go, then.”
As he finished off his soup, Bobby sat back and took a sharp breath out. His stomach finally beginning to feel full. He reached forward for his beer and drank slower this time. It felt too good having a filled stomach. He didn’t even realize how hard he had been on his own body these last few days until just now. Sitting here with a full stomach and a warm home. Next step was sleep, but he would get to that later.
Bobby let out another sharp breath, but this one wasn’t of satisfaction but rather of getting ready to be serious. “If you call angels a case, then yah. I’ve been working a case.” He managed a small smile on his face from the movie reference. Bobby remembered having a movie night with the boys when they were younger, maybe Dean was 14. Sam spent the night practically peeing his pants at every dark corner and room in the house. Thinking Jack was going to jump out or something.
He let his eyes drift from Jo to around the house. He hadn’t actually seen his kitchen in a day or so. Drinking from his beer, Bobby returned his wandering eyes to Jo still amazed that her and her mother were so alike.
Jo frowned, shoving her remaining soup aside. She hadn’t been as ravenous as Bobby and didn’t finish her entire bowl. At least it appeared he was in a better mood now, maybe they could get to the bottom of both their problems. Truth be told, it felt good to be back in Bobby’s kitchen discussing a job. She’d missed this, missed not just the thrill of a hunt but the satisfaction that came with solving a problem. She wasn’t like Sam, she had never been a star student or particularly fond of school, but she was smart and logical. Patterns were simple enough for her to follow - it was how she put together her cases, some that impressed even seasoned hunters at the original Roadhouse. She thought briefly of her first job, the ghost of notorious serial killer H. H. Holmes. Dean thought Ash had put together the casefile and it had made Jo unreasonably proud.
"Angels… I’m still a bit out of the loop here, Bobby," she reminded him, "I thought, after the apocalypse didn’t happen, the angels wouldn’t really be a problem anymore? What are they doing now?"
Good, he thought. It wasn’t far, they’d be there soon, and a parking lot was sure to be a lot less deserted than this park. At the very least, Jacob was positive he could lead Jo off somewhere—between some cars, the side of a building, anything—to get the job done. Her tiny smile eased the tenseness (a bit) that he was feeling, but he couldn’t force it all to disappear.
The pull was just too strong.
Jacob was surprised he’d managed to maintain as much control as he had for this long. Under any other circumstances, he was sure he would have given in to the moon’s pull; to that ultimate desire to take the girl that he had at his side, right now, and make her his. For he’d decided now, she was too perfect to be ruined, to be made a mere meal out of it. A mere victim of his claws and teeth. No. No, she deserved the gift.
"Hmm?" He’d been distracted, he realized, lost in his thoughts over what it would be like to make a new wolf again. Directly, and not just feel another of the pack being born, being brought into the fold. Jacob followed Jo’s gaze to the other path, noticing the lack of foot traffic and he almost couldn’t help but grin and the good luck that was falling his way. Taking such a path would put an ease upon his shoulders, for he wouldn’t have to wait until the bar at all.
Although, there was that niggling thought in the back of his mind over why Jo was suggesting the less crowded path. Walking with stranger, surely she would want to be seen…? Don’t question it, he thought. Perhaps she is just ready to get to the bar. Then again, he’d noticed the way she’d looked at him. Perhaps she’s just.. fond of you. And he couldn’t keep the smirk from his face then, at the mental idea.
"Well, it doesn’t appear too dangerous down there," he said. "I’m sure between the two of us, we can handle any villainous monsters that may jump out. And I’m sure you’d like to get to The Roadhouse as soon as possible." Jacob made to walk down the other path, looking to Jo.
Well, that was easy enough, Jo thought to herself. Perhaps too easy. For a moment, doubt flashed through her mind. She hadn’t hunted in a while, and while she stayed in shape and trained as though she was still seeking out jobs every day, the truth of the matter was that it had been a while since she’d actually taken on a creature herself. And the last time really hadn’t ended well for her.
In her head, her mother’s voice scolded her feebly, reminding her that smart hunters didn’t go off alone. Didn’t rush things. Didn’t take unnecessary risks. But then her mother had never thought her capable of doing the job, so Jo ignored it and led the way to the edge of the wooded path. It was the best way, the safest way for the people around her and that was her real concern. She wasn’t stupid, she didn’t have a death wish, she just wanted to protect the people of the town she’d come to think of as home. And, for whatever reason, she was convinced they needed protecting from Jacob.
When they reached the edge of the path she looked up at him, pausing in her steps for just a moment; her brown eyes were wide, reflecting the dying light of the day. “I can trust you, can’t I, Jacob?” she asked softly.
Damon laughs again, “Oh I will, sweetheart.” he winks at her, enjoying the image of wrestling with the hunter. But now isn’t the time, and he doubts there ever will be a time for that. No, if they ever end up fighting it will be for real, both trying to kill the other.
But for now they are civil, for now Damon can pretend to enjoy himself - though there may not be much ‘pretending’ needed. “No, darling,” he says, moving to sit down opposite her. “I’m in your house, which you so kindly invited me into, I think it’s only fair that you go first.”
Jo rolled the beer bottle between her hands and stared at him for a moment, trying to decide what she wanted to ask. Start light? Go straight for the jugular? How did she want to play this? The first question would set the precedent, and likely effect what he asked her…probably best to ease into things, then. Honestly, it could be fun. A little ice breaker, a way to get to know a handsome stranger. What could it hurt? She grinned at him.
She waited until he was sitting to speak. “Alright, where are you really from?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure there’s not like an Around, Utah, or something.”
Damon smiles again, moving to grab a couple of chips. He remains standing, easily falling into the ‘slightly awkward’ act of a guy in a strange woman’s home. He can’t help but laugh at her comment, “I’m sure you could, love.” he grins, “But I would think it’d be a close match.”
Things are going well, she’s obviously comfortable around him and she seems to trust him - to an extent. And, to his own surprise, Damon is finding himself starting to like Jo. She’s quirky and headstrong, and she doesn’t take any bullshit from anyone. Plus she’s quite a beautiful woman.
However, Damon’s smirk drops as he sees the not so well hidden flinch. He frowns slightly, taking half a step closer. He is about to open his mouth and ask whether she is alright, but Jo beats him to it. He plasters on another smile before answering. “How about an ‘eye for an eye’, per say.” he says, “You tell me what you want to know, but I also get to ask some questions. Deal?”
Jo continued to look up at him, taking a slow sip of her beer as he claimed to be able to hold his own. If she was honest with herself, the idea of sparring or wrestling with an attractive man was intriguing, to say the least, but that was not why they were here. She smirked and simply replied, “Keep dreaming, big boy.”
It was clear that Damon noticed her reaction to the barking dog. It wouldn’t be that difficult to lie, to say she’d been attacked by a dog as a child, or even more recently, and had always been afraid of them, or some other cover story. And yet he wasn’t a civilian, she didn’t have to explain to him that some of the things that most people assume only exist in nightmares are actually real. She stared at him a moment longer.
"Alright, fine," she said finally, "Consider it a game of truth or truth. One hundred percent honesty, no exceptions…We can each pass on, say, two questions? You can even go first, if you want. But you have to sit down or I’ll get a crick in my neck."
A small smirk flickers across Damon’s face as he hears her own faint sigh of relief. Good. If she was in a good mood it will be easier to get her to talk. Plus, it always helps to come across as ‘considerate’ and ‘caring’ in these situations. His eyes follow Jo as she walks out of the room and to her kitchen.
It’s not long before she returns, arms filled with various snacks. Damon smiles warmly. “It’s looks perfect.” He practically purrs, stepping over to Jo to help her with all of the food. “Really, Jo, thank you for all of this. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Jo shrugged, blushing slightly and made herself comfortable on the couch, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her. “It’s nothing, really,” she insisted, “I mean, I wouldn’t encourage just anyone to open up their home to strangers, but I think we both know I can kick your ass if I have to.” Her tone was teasing, matching the grin on her face.
It was strange, but something about him put her at ease, despite the fact that she knew nothing about him. So this wasn’t her typical, careful approach, but that didn’t mean it was a terrible idea, right? She’d been cooped up in the bar for too long, denied the rush of a hunt by her own insecurities and the trauma of her past. A dog barked outside and she flinched subtly, reminded, as always, of the hell hounds. And to think, she used to be a dog person.
She dipped a chip in the salsa and glanced over at him from the corner of her eye. “So…you ever going to tell me more about you or are you sticking with the mysterious stranger bit?”