"Good," says Dean, setting off in the direction Cas has indicated. He's been spoiling for a fight for more than a week, the disappearance of Darrow's populace an uncomfortable itch with no way to scratch, and he needs to draw blood tonight.

"Vamps," he says as they walk. He's borne a particular grudge against them for a few years now. "Was that really the first thing you happened to spot, or did you seek them out?"