One week after his run-in with Chloe, Dean was still thinking about the pretty blonde. He had been taken aback by her ability to sense when he was lying; no other girl had ever been able to do that. He had started lying at an early age, first to motel managers and school authorities on the whereabouts of his father, then to the other kids at various schools about why his family moved around so much. Once his father had started teaching him the tricks of the hunting trade, lying had become a necessity. Credit card scams, posing as various authority figures, even hustling and gambling had become requirements for survival. And Dean had gotten very, very good at surviving. He considered himself a master at lying, and the easiest lies in the world were the ones told to pretty girls. A smooth lie and a seductive smile led to a stolen kiss and much more, every time. Well, every time but one. Only one failure, but it rankled.