The real McCoy. Sickle or no sickle, I wasn’t hype. As a vampire, I was Death on steroids. I was Nosferatu, the Undead. Not exactly Dracula, but as ...lose as this world would come to it. And I would let the fucking bodies hit the floor.“I want the Colt, Crowley. So, cut the crap and give it to me, or else...,” I dangled the threat.“And what’s the carrot? I gather that your ‘stick’ is to drain every person alive and rob both Heaven and Hell of all new livestock. Or everyone that you can. And I. Did he want me to dance? I couldn't juggle, what the hell did he want from me?!"He saw that I didn't know what to do and he asked, "Do you have one of those toys girls like that looks like a cock?"I turned white. I almost lied. I had a feeling that he already knew though. He had been through most of my things before we left the house this morning.I nodded my head and he sent me to get it. I went to my nightstand and dug it out of the bottom drawer. It was hidden under some old magazines where. More

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