Oh look! Its a mid-week update. Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. You guys are so awesome!

Camilla sat for a long time on the edge of her bed staring at the flats on her feet, trying very hard to convince herself that the previous night had been a huge mistake. She had been unable to sleep with the residual tension and had, as a result, spent three hours doing laundry and reliving the experience of Clint's careful touches. The plus side was that Clint hadn't so much as even kissed her and that she was fairly certain the stumble in judgment could be corrected easily. Tapping her feet against the carpet, she tossed her hair back from her face and looked to the ceiling, asking whatever deity happened to be listening for some kind of guidance. She liked Clint, thought he was a decent guy who also happened to make her stomach flip every time he got within a few feet of her. But, her life definitely didn't lend itself to relationships and with Astar still lurking about she couldn't afford the distraction.

Standing, Camilla paced the room back and forth with her hands on her hips as she solidified her resolve. As much as she liked Clint, this was the best solution for both of them. Camilla would be leaving, probably within the week, and it just wasn't viable to start something that couldn't possibly be finished. Nodding absently, she dropped her hands and headed to the bathroom to check the stone and box. They sat exactly where she'd left them by the sink, looking more innocent than they probably should given their respective power. Reaching out, she lifted the lid of the box and peered at the three nails.

Claire had a knack for sending help exactly when Camilla needed it, but the crucifixion nails seemed excessive, even for the keeper. Furthermore, Camilla had absolutely no idea how to use them in an exorcism, let alone a destruction ritual aimed at demonic forces. She dug around a little into the velvet just in case Claire had sent a manual of sorts, coming up unsurprisingly bare. Flexing her hands against the porcelain of the counter, Camilla stared at the two objects, working to create some kind of plan for the ritual. The stone would be ground into sand and spread over the glyphs, and the nails… well, she would just have to improvise somehow.

A knock sounded at her door, pulling her from her mental walkthrough of the ritual she would perform. Padding over, Camilla opened the door and found Clint leaning against the jamb, eyes bright despite the early hour.

"Feel like breakfast?" He asked, moving forward into her room without invitation.

Camilla backed away to keep the distance between them, the words she'd practiced in her head dying in her throat. Swallowing, she tried several times to start a conversation that began with 'about last night' and concluded with 'it's for the best', but ended out making inarticulate sounds that were vaguely idiotic. Clint took one look at her attempts and smiled in a way that made Camilla immediately sense danger. Before she could blink he was crowding her against the door and pushing into her space determinedly.

"Now don't go getting in your own way," he intoned lowly, eyes focused intently on her mouth. The ensuing kiss was a simple press of skin and heat, a reminder that Camilla had become very much starved for human contact over the years. She had forgotten what it was like to simply be next to someone without thinking that they might slip a knife between her ribs. She had also forgotten how fantastic it felt to have a man hold her still while he touched his tongue to hers. Fingers grasping at the collar of his pullover, Camilla leaned into the embrace as she learned the shape and taste of his lips.

Clint gripped the nape of her neck, guiding her back and away so that the kiss ended in a slow separation of flesh. He held her there for a moment as if contemplating how thoroughly he had succeeded in stopping the denials and self-doubt whirling around in her brain. Then, he dipped back down and tried a different approach. Instead of a soft, exploratory kiss, Clint caught her in a way that rocked her back into the firm support of the door. He mouthed along the line of her jaw, scraping his teeth over her nerves until she gasped with surprise. Camilla squeezed her eyes shut and felt her body go lax even as her focus grew taut with expectation. Her hands remained knotted in place, her head tipping back to rest against the door at her back.

Laying sharp, short kisses along the length of her collarbone, Clint grasped the zipper of her sweater and pulled downwards, pushing the material from her shoulder to pool on the floor at her feet. He ghosted his hands along her forearms, using them as leverage to draw her from the door.

"Breakfast," he murmured while she was catching her breath. "We're going out for breakfast."

Camilla allowed herself to be led out of the room into the hall, halfway to the living room before she realized how bare her arms were. Even as she tried to slow the pace of Clint's stride, he was smirking at her and wrapping his arm around her waist to haul her along.

"Come on, I'm starving," He laughed, "There's this little diner Darcy goes to a lot and she says the waffles there are, and I'm quoting here, 'orgasmic'." Camilla shook her head, knowing that Darcy's food taste was just about as all-inclusive as any other person she had ever met. But, she didn't have the heart to comment that diner food generally wasn't five star quality when Clint looked so very excited to make the trip. He pulled her by the hand through the garage to a sleek black sedan, the engine stirring to life even before they made it to the doors. Tucked into the passenger's side, Camilla marveled at the understated but definitely advanced dashboard and amenities.

The car was shifted into gear and Clint took them out of the garage onto a private exit lane towards the highway. His driving was much like his fighting, quick, precise, and full of brute power. There was no easing into traffic, just the hard press of the pedal towards the floorboard as the car sped along the asphalt. Camilla's attention kept moving between the road racing past them and Clint's palm which had fallen to rest casually upon her knee. The warm touch was foreign and distracting, pleasant in a new and not unwelcome way.

As they swung into the diner's parking lot, Camilla assessed the establishment with a dubious eye. From the outside, it looked greasy, paint chipping off the walls and cracked glass patched with duct tape. Clint hadn't seemed to notice the run down look of the joint having hopped out of the car and joined her near the entrance. Once more taking her hand, he tugged her along behind him towards an empty booth where he guided her into the seat first and slid in beside her. A waitress brought them two menus and took their drink orders, leaving them to make a decision.

Camilla skimmed the list of options, surreptitiously enjoying the feeling of Clint's thigh settled so closely to her own. He didn't seem to have physical boundaries, giving his touch freely when the inclination came to him. As he pointedly studied the toppings, he would brush his fingertips over her tattoos or nudge her with his shoulder, guiding her attention purposefully away from any negative thoughts that might surface. He seemed to have a bead on her tendency to over think situations and to back away when she wasn't sure. While it wasn't necessarily a bad thing that he knew her so well, Camilla barely had the capacity to pick out an egg sandwich with hash browns because he kept causing her brain to stutter every couple of seconds—which was hell on her concentration.

After the waitress to their food order, Clint turned to her, effectively blocking out her view of the rest of the restaurant with the sharp expanse of his shoulders. "So, other than demon hunting, what do you do for fun?"

Camilla's head tilted a little as she thought, "My job takes up a lot of my time—actually, all of my time. But, I like the travel and seeing new places. I kind of wish I could stay a little longer than a few days in each location, but the council usually have a backlog of assignments waiting for me."

In one week she could be in three different states or as many as two different countries hunting down up to five demons from a myriad of assignments. Her down time usually consisted of acquiring new supplies and patching up any scratches or injuries she might have attained. A social life, as a result, was pretty much impossible outside the ranks of the Guardians or agents of the council.

"You don't get any time off?" he asked, brows coming together thoughtfully.

She shook her head, "Ah, not really. I had medical leave a while back after my last trip to the Other, but if I'm not on the road or working the council expects that I check in to their center of operations for a physical, blood test, and extra training."

"Screw that," Clint retorted ruefully. "You've got to relax some time, Camilla. You can't be under this kind of stress for years and not go crazy."

"And yet here I am," she replied with a smile that was tinged with sadness. "I've been doing this since I was twelve. It's the only life I know, and at least I know I'm making a difference. I save people's lives, rid them of evil, and it's that mission that keeps me going." She recited the old standby with surprising fluency, somehow not feeling as exuberant as she might have once been.

Clint hunched forward a little, eyes clear and beseeching, "I get that, I really do. But, I can see how much you want to settle down and just be for a minute."

He was right, of course, though settling down and relaxing was a concept so alien to Camilla that she almost laughed outright. If she had the luxury of free time, she might lose her marbles just by the sheer fact that she wouldn't know what to do with herself. Having been so used to constant movement, to the eternal and enduring mission of fending off the evil of the world, stopping the forward momentum of her life would take considerable effort and not a little bit of self regulation to impede the paranoia from creeping into her mind.

Their plates were brought out from the kitchen and they spent several minutes simply enjoying the fare. Despite the shady look of the place, Camilla had to hand it to the chef, the food was fantastic and there wasn't a single hair or cockroach in either meal. The portions were huge, spread out over a large dinner plate, and so rich that Camilla really couldn't find it in herself to finish the meal. That, however, was no so for Clint as he worked his way through a stack of waffles, two pieces of toast, hash browns, and five cups of coffee with astonishing efficiency. Camilla watched him with something like awe as he cleared the last bit of syrup from his plate with a bit of toast.

"How are you not throwing up right now?"

Clint shrugged, "High metabolism and I had a combat session with the Widow this morning."

"I'm honestly impressed that you could put all that away," Camilla said, her face lacking in sarcasm or humor.

He smirked, "I'm a man of many talents."

"Clearly," she intoned, draining the last of her coffee and setting the cup to the side. They paid the check and headed back out to the car. In the parking lot, Camilla scanned the area compulsively, checking for anything amiss. Clint waited patiently near the driver's side of the car, his eyes following the trajectory of her gaze. He didn't mention it when they finally sat in the car, his hand returning to its position on her knee.

The house was beginning to come alive when they returned, Lucy meeting them near the door. "Kenny's ruined it."

Camilla rolled her eyes with a smile at the fiercely annoyed look in Lucy's eyes, "Of course. What did he ruin this time?"

"The sage is spoiled, absolutely wretched."

From the living room, Kenny heard and called back, "It is not ruined. Lucy is too much of a perfectionist to appreciate the margin of error."

Lucy scoffed, leading them to where Will, Kenny, and Miranda were sitting on the couches. Miranda smiled tiredly at Camilla, having clearly been mediating the argument for some time.

"Bullshit, Kenny. You got sold by trolls," Lucy asserted with a sneer.

"Did not," Kenny replied at a near whine. "Will, tell them the sage is fine."

Will shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt, "It does smell a little weird, but exorcisms aren't really my thing. I wouldn't know fresh sage from parsley."

"Neither would I," Miranda chimed in. "Claire doesn't want me doing exorcisms until I have some field experience."

"Well, you'll get that experience soon enough," Camilla replied, slumping down into an armchair. Clint leaned on the arm beside her, observing their interaction shrewdly. Camilla felt his unspoken support even though for the first time since she'd greeted him that morning he wasn't reaching out to touch her in some way.

Lucy reached into a small brown bag on the floor and pulled out a rough bundle of herbs, throwing it on the table between them. "Look at that," she said brusquely, "Absolutely worthless in an exorcism."

Camilla eyed the bundle, noting the withered leaves, the off center coloring and the faint hint of sour smell. The herbs were definitely spoiled, dying, and useless to them, which was a shame because it would mean they couldn't do the ritual until after they'd acquired more.

"That's not all," Lucy continued, reaching back into the bag, "Look at the mortar and pestle, they aren't even silver."

Confused, Camilla looked to Kenny, "I thought you had your own supplies for this."

Kenny returned her look with a pointed glare, "I left them at headquarters. What about you, shouldn't you have brought supplies? This is, in fact, your assignment."

Camilla's eyes narrowed balefully, "I do. Luckily I not only came to this mission prepared, but I also know the difference between silver and nickel plating. Seriously, this is exorcism 101, Kenny. What is wrong with you lately?"

He stood and threw his hands up, "I'm sorry I can't keep up with miss perfect guardian."

Miranda reached up to calm him, "No one is blaming you. Right guys? We're worried, though, you have been showing some lapses in judgment."

Will joined Miranda in working to keep Kenny calm, "I know you've been working pretty hard, man, but you have to keep your head. We'll get more sage and Camilla has the mortar and pestle to grind the herbs. We can still get this done and then you can take a few days at headquarters, you know, to rest."

Lips pursed, Camilla watched Kenny warily, wondering at his abrupt attitude and sudden memory loss of concepts that had been drilled into them since their days as potentials. He had always been a little hot headed, but had never lashed out at the team (despite his occasional jabs at Camilla). She thought the stress of the job had finally gotten to him after so many years fighting battle after endless battle against a foe that didn't seem to tire or die out. She knew Claire would want to see him, possibly send him through some kind of emotive therapy to calm his rising frustrations, but she also knew that they would have to power through until the mission was over before that could happen.

"Okay," Camilla intoned. "It looks like we're going to need more sage—I don't have any fresh enough to use on a demon as powerful as Astar. Is there anything else we would need? I only want to go to the troll market once."

Just then Tony strolled in wearing a grease-stained t-shirt and dark pants, looking sleep deprived and half jolted on caffeine. He observed the group, eyes flicking down to the coffee table, spotting the sage.

"You guys going to have a party without me?"

Clint chuckled beside Camilla, "It's not weed, Tony, its sage."

"Sure it is," Tony retorted, rolling his eyes dramatically and turning towards the back hall. "Just exhale through a paper towel roll stuffed with dryer sheets, will ya? Pepper doesn't like the smell."

Camilla watched him go with half a smile and a shake of her head before returning her attention to the group. "So, back to my question."

Miranda raised a tentative hand, "Shouldn't we use an accelerant?"

"Might be a good idea," Lucy murmured, tossing her dark hair behind her and pulling it into a loose bun. "What do you think, Will?"

Will shrugged, fiddling with the drawstring on his hood, "Like I said, not really my area of expertise. I think we'll need something sacred in the room."

"We've got the nails," Camilla offered, with a hopeful glance to Lucy who looked contemplative.

"I think we'll need a grounding agent—quartz at the four corners just to be safe." Lucy glanced around for confirmation from each Guardian, receiving it even though some confirmations were given reluctantly. "Okay, Camilla, Kenny and I will go to the troll market. Miranda, you and Will find a room to set up the calling circle and get as much of it completed as you can until we get back with the rest of the supplies."

Will frowned, "You know sacred quartz is… hell to get a hold of and the market may not be willing to sell so easily."

Lucy sighed, "We will do what we can."

"Within reason," Camilla added. "There's no use being taken advantage of unless we're in dire straits."

With nothing left to discuss, the team broke to prepare for their respective roles, Camilla heading back to her room to grab the bundle of rolled bills she kept in the lining of her duffel. It was more than enough to purchase the necessary items and probably a few more things that might catch her eye while they browsed the market. She knew herself well enough to know that if she found something interesting and strange, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from purchasing said item and carting it to be stored back at her office.

As she entered her room, something in her brain fired off in a signal that something wasn't quite right. Nothing seemed to have been touched, but there was a stale movement in the air that reeked of alien intrusion. Feeling the start of adrenaline, Camilla raced to the bathroom and flicked on the light, shocked to find that while the stone remained where she had left it, the box was completely missing. Stupidly, she checked beneath the sink and between the cabinets and the toilet to see if it had fallen anywhere, running her hands nervously through her hair. It hadn't fallen and there was no moment where her stomach returned from its trip deep into the pit of her abdomen. She was well and truly fucked right then, having lost one of the most sacred items in the history of man.

Turning to run out of the bathroom, Camilla ran straight into Clint, bumping her nose in the process. She rubbed at it, biting out, "How do you just appear out of nowhere?"

"Skills," he replied without hesitation. Then, having noticed her expression, continued with, "What happened?"

Camilla huffed out a breath, "The nails are gone. Disappeared. Stolen, probably."

Clint eyed the countertop, pushing into the room a little so that they were both standing in the doorway. "Any ideas?"

She shook her head, "Could have been anyone in the house."

"Jarvis?" Clint called out, "Anyone enter this room while Camilla and I were gone?"

The AI clicked once, saying, "I have no record of anyone but Ms. Paige and yourself in this room today."

Eyes widening, Camilla whispered a name in resignation, "Astar. It had to be him. With the amount of energy flowing through this house and the drama from last night, he had more than enough power to materialize here and grab the box." The only explanation that made sense, Astar stealing the box should have been predicted but Camilla had stupidly thought the house safe with the protection spells written by Darcy as a potential Guardian.

"Where would he have taken it?" Clint asked, his gaze intense and unyielding.

Camilla shook her head, exasperated, "I don't know where he hides when he's not possessing someone. Hell, maybe."

Scratching at the back of his head, the corner of Clint's mouth lifted, "I don't suppose you know how to get there."

She returned his small smile, "I know how to get there, it's the getting back part that's the problem."

"Seems like a pretty big problem," he hummed, something warm moving behind his eyes.

Camilla shrugged, "We'll figure it out, we always do." She glanced back at the sink, as if by chance the box would return to its rightful place. It was still gone and she wondered just how to explain to Claire that she had lost it. Crossing her arms, Camilla leaned against the doorframe and returned her attention to Clint. He looked calm, composed, focused, and intent. The set of his jaw was not unlike the time she'd seen it seconds before submerging herself in the pool. It spoke volumes of silent contemplation, hinting at an unyielding stubborn streak.

She pursed her lips, "Looks like we'll need something sacred at the market, too. Lucy is going to love that." The dark-haired girl drove hard bargains backed by a short-fused temper. Her temperament made her ill suited for negotiations, but talented when dealing with the market sellers.

"Is she always that…?" Clint gestured vaguely.

Camilla smiled, "Almost always. Lucy's mellowed out in the last few years. When we were teenagers she took a slice out of one of the trainers for commenting on her bright yellow sneakers—not very stealthy material."

Nodding in understanding, Clint mirrored her position against the opposite jamb, legs stepping out to cage her from knees to ankles. "When are we leaving?"

"We?" Camilla echoed, surprised.

Brow raised, he continued, "If Kenny is going, I'm going. I want to keep an eye on him."
Camilla looked at him for a beat, trying hard to stem the tide of 'I can take care of myself, thank you very much' as it rumbled irritably in her gut. She told herself that he was worried, that he was just looking out for her, that he was being a good friend. It was a courtesy Camilla was seldom offered and part of her was eager to acquiesce.

Still, respect and polite demurral prevailed, "You don't have to do that. Surely you have better things—more important things—to be doing."

He shrugged in a loose movement that Camilla thought might be vaguely calculated. "I'm assigned to you until you leave."

Both brows rising to nearly her hairline, Camilla did her best to speak levelly, "I didn't realize I was an assignment." There was no concealing the annoyance in her expression even though she had managed to pull the irritation from her tone. She could tell that her comment had rung true enough with Clint to let him know that she was offended by the thought of having some kind of handler in the building despite the fact that she was a guest here and that the team knew very little about her. He reached forward with both hands and pulled her by the elbows so that they were standing once more eye to eye. Camilla showed a little resistance, leaning away so that she could crane her neck and jut out her chin in almost childlike defiance.

"It was an assignment I chose," he explained, his eyes entreating. "No one is forcing me to be here. If I wanted, I could observe you just as well from a distance. In fact, Coulson might have gotten a more thorough report that way, but I wanted to talk with you and see what kind of woman fights the devil."

"A devil," Camilla corrected softly. "The devil isn't allowed in the human plane."

"Semantics, Camilla," he said in sing-song. "Besides, how else was I going to find out what you were hiding under that sweater."

It took some effort to hide her blush. "Leave it to you to use the opportunity for a pick up line," Camilla commented dryly. "Okay, so you've seen the tats. Are you curious about anything else, or was that it?"

Her tone had taken on that acerbic edge that had tainted so many speeches in her youth. She began to feel as she had after just completing her training, exposed and raw to the slightest touch. Unsure of where she stood, Camilla resorted to an old, tried, and true habit of a sharp tongue and vicious attitude. Some part of her was calling out, letting her know just how stupid she was being because Clint was like everyone else, inquisitive after having been in the dark about Guardians' work for so long. He wasn't to blame for the hurts of her life nor did she have the right to punish him for wanting to have a normal conversation.

Clint, amazingly enough, took her lashing out in stride, letting it roll off his shoulders like so much water. He hauled her close instead of pushing her away like Camilla thought he might do, hands gripping low on her back to steady her body against him. Camilla instinctively rose to her toes and rested her palms on his chest in order to keep her balance, muscles stiffening in the shock of the movement.

He nosed her cheek, voice low and rasping, "What did we discuss this morning about not getting in your own way? Do we need to have that discussion again?"

Unable to respond, Camilla simply nodded, hands contracting with the sensation of his breath fanning out over the sensitive skin of her neck. She would burn to death, she was sure, with the heat that seemed to emanate as a furnace from his body and through their clothes to sear into her nerves. His build was no slight thing, hard packed muscle banded around limbs that were quick and limber. Clint was an athlete of the most professional kind, dedicated to maintaining his skills through rigorous training and it showed in how effortlessly he could maneuver and manipulate those around him physically. Camilla would need to resort to her own internal power in order to subdue him, something that was as comforting as it was intimidating.

Seeming unhappy with her mute demeanor, Clint squeezed her gently in a quick movement that was meant to catch her attention. "Is that a yes that you understand the discussion we had or a yes that we need to have the talk again?" He leaned down and bit gently at the lobe of her ear, "Because I'm willing to debrief you, if necessary."

Trying hard not to think about what he meant by 'debrief', Camilla swallowed and ducked her head a little. It was all the submission she could muster with the strange twist of something exhilaratingly new in her belly. It warmed her, simultaneously setting her teeth on edge while her brain tried to catch up and work out what she was expected to do. The tension in her body seemed strung tight like the bow Clint so often carried and she contemplated the thought that this was what it was like before he set an arrow to fly—a kind of stretch before the release.

Inhaling, Camilla took in the smell of him, her eyes closing to identify, catalogue, and memorize the scent. He must have showered after the session with Natasha that morning because he smelled like clean, crisp soap. Beneath that were undertones of sandalwood and something earthy that made Camilla think of grass in the heat of summer. She wanted to rub her nose in the collar of his shirt just to keep the scent with her after they'd parted, but she didn't dare move for fear of ending the embrace. There was something very secure about Clint's arms around her, his body caging her and blotting out her vision so that there was nothing but him in her eyes. Camilla was tempted to stay there locked away forever so that she wouldn't have to go out into the world of the demonic again. It was so incredibly appealing, but unrealistic in a way that snapped her back to reality.

Canting back a little, Camilla exhaled and gave Clint a smile that she hoped conveyed her gratitude for the support he continually offered her. He returned the expression, one hand touching the skin beneath her chin as he leaned down to drop a kiss on her lips. The sensation rolled over her in firm, pleasant waves and she felt her mouth widen a little. Clint took that moment to move aggressively into her space so that they were touching from chest to knee, his kiss solidifying into something deeper. She gasped when he ran his teeth along the edge of her lip, his tongue slipping inside to run lightly along her own. Arching into him, Camilla tentatively carded her hands into his hair and held him still while she moved from passive to active participant in the kiss, a little moan running past her vocal cords in appreciation.

For several moments, the only sounds in the room were the sighing breaths between kisses and the rustling of movement. Camilla relished the direct guidance of Clint's body and mouth, he told her exactly where he wanted her, leaving no room for doubt. It allowed Camilla to be sure of her actions, to enjoy the embrace without the niggling fears and doubts that so often plagued her. So engrossed was she in the feelings coursing through her body that she didn't notice Clint pushing up the hem of her shirt until he brushed against the scar on her hip.

Hissing, Camilla pushed back and away so hard that her head knocked against the doorjamb. She winced, looking up at Clint apologetically and catching his gaze pointedly staring at Astar's mark. Self-consciously, she tugged her shirt down and pursed her lips, shaking her head at the ruined moment. When Clint reached for her again, Camilla rolled away a little, stepping away into the bedroom to put space between them.

From behind her, he called out, "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

Camilla huffed out a frustrated breath, knowing that he would find out one way or another, whether by coaxing her or by asking around until he got to Darcy. "Astar likes to mark those he considers his property."

Head tilting to the side, he said, "Darcy has one like that."
Humming in affirmation, Camilla turned to face him and placed her hands on her hips, "Its part of the reason I'm working so hard to get this ritual completed. If we can't destroy him, Darcy will live in fear of the demon for the rest of her life." Her voice dropped to a near whisper, "That's no way to live."

Risking her turning from him again, Clint approached slowly and grasped her shoulders in reassurance. "You'll get it done."

"Yeah," Camilla replied trying hard to bolster her confidence. "I have to."

Someone came knocking on her door, the sharp rapping disturbing the relative peace of the space. Camilla answered it only to find Lucy standing in front of her, expectantly.
"We're ready to go when you are."

Camilla smiled a very small smile, "Okay, let me get my keys."

Lucy followed her in, eyeing Clint carefully, "Kenny is going to show us where he bought the sage. Maybe they'll give us a refund."

"Fat chance," Camilla scoffed. "Also, Astar may have stolen the box with the nails."

Lucy went very still, her ever widening eyes the only movement for several long seconds. "Fuck," she breathed. "Anything else you want to throw at us while you're at it?"

Camilla shrugged, "I didn't know he could make it past the protection spells with enough power to materialize. It looks like the potentials he harvested are seriously boosting his power."

"No shit," Lucy replied, incredulous. "I guess we're getting a sacred object while we're there." She bounced on her toes, her bright blue sneakers squeaking a little on the carpet.

The group met up with Kenny in the living room and piled into her rental, still parked discreetly in the driveway. Lucy took the passenger's seat, leaving Kenny and Clint to sit sullenly together in the backseat. Camilla kept half her attention on the road and half on the pair behind her in case a fight broke out. The market could be accessed through any gateway with the right glyph and power source, but they would need to find a place away from the public so that they didn't draw attention.

Camilla ended out driving into large tree covered park that looked rather empty in the cooling weather. Putting the car in park, she cut the engine and performed her usual scan of the surroundings. Nearby there was a pair of trees whose branches reached towards each other to form an arch of twigs and limbs. They could use that as an entrance point to the market. Climbing from the car and making their way to the arch was a silent event, though the gravel ground beneath their feet as they walked. Lucy spared no time in leaning down, pulling a pocket knife from her jacket and pressing the tip to her thumb. After allowing the blood to bead on her skin, she pressed the digit to the ground and drew the simple opening glyph to the market.

The air swirled and suddenly they were standing in the causeway of the troll market between stall selling various magical wares. Smelling of the earth set afire, the whole place moved in seething activity that promoted the economy of the supernatural world. Camilla craned her neck to get a feel for the people around them, spying a few of the more reputable dealers set up down the alley. Glancing at Kenny, she motioned for him to lead the way to where he'd bought the sage. They would start there and then search for the things they needed.

With an almost hop to his step, Kenny sauntered down the ranks of the market stalls, seemingly sure of where he was going. Lucy and Camilla followed without hesitation and Clint brought up the rear of the group, cool eyes taking in the scene with practiced ease. Kenny walked them around several corners, ducking into a darkly lit booth so suddenly that Camilla nearly ran into Lucy when she skidded to a stop. She patted Lucy on the shoulder when the younger girl muttered irritably; glancing back to make sure Clint was still there. He had turned to face the crowd, his back to a large pillar, eyes still searching for potential danger. Sensing her gaze, he turned to face Camilla, stepping in behind her when she entered the stall.

Kenny sat in from of a half moon table, four dealers on one side looking deceptively content to see so many visitors at one time. Camilla eyed them for a moment, looking for signs of demonic influence and finding none. The dealers weren't possessed, just shady, and that she could deal with just fine at the present moment. They each took their seats across from the vendors and it was Lucy who took the lead.

"I understand that you sold my colleague, here, some spoiled sage. We would like a replacement." Lucy hefted the offending herbs onto the table between them as evidence.

Though they were all rotund, the largest of the group responded to Lucy's assertion, "He knew what he was buying." He squinted at them in turn, tongue flicking out in contemplation over their seemingly mismatched group.

"Yes, but did you know who you were selling to? Did you know what the sage was for?"

The vendor sighed dramatically, "That is not our business."

"Maybe not," Lucy conceded carefully, "But selling spoiled product is bound to get you some bad press in the market."

There was a beat of silence long enough to spike the tension in the room and one of the vendors shifted uncomfortably. Camilla watched Lucy's eyes narrow and home in on the weakest link in the group. She very nearly smiled. The reputation of the vendors was guarded like precious gold because word spread far and fast in the supernatural community. As with Oliver's nightclub, if the council denounced a vendor as being unfair or dealing poorly, the stall could be blacklisted from the market altogether.

"Can you imagine what it would be like when the customers around the community begin to hear what deceptive vendors are selling," she glanced around, "at Barbles and Mot's? It would be a scandal."

The ringleader scoffed, "Even if you were to spread that vicious lie, its only one sale."

Lucy sneered, "I can be very convincing."

The vendor thought for a moment, weighing his options, "Fine, we'll replace the sage. It is a small matter."

"Thank you." Lucy held her hand out for the bushel of herbs, nodding to the group as she stood. One by one they filed back out into the busy street. Once they were far enough away, Lucy turned, shoving the herbs into a bag she unfolded from her pocket.

"So, quartz and a sacred object. Ideas?"

Camilla ran her eyes down the length of the street, "Unger always has good stuff. We could start there."

Kenny rolled his eyes, "His prices are outrageous and you know it."

She shrugged, "Sometimes it's worth it, if you find the right item."

Lucy turned a slow circle, "Wentworth might be a good start, but she's out of town. I think her cousin is running the place while she's gathering research on her new book."

Camilla nodded, "I heard about that—something to do with rare animal magic." She breathed deeply, "Wentworth's it is, then. I think I saw the stall over there somewhere."

The Wentworth stall was open air and served all customers, but the rare items were always kept in the back and required a little bartering and convincing to acquire. Camilla hadn't bought from them very often, finding Unger's more suited to her liking (she really didn't have the stomach for intestines hanging around). Lucy, however, went where the more powerful magic lay, and that was in earth magic and the use of animal sacrifice—unsanitary at the very least, gross and potentially immoral at worst. Camilla couldn't fault Lucy, however, knowing that sometimes the fastest way was the only way in their line of work, with lives to save and demons to defeat. Still, she veered away from it whenever she could.

They spent a few moments browsing the shelves before Camilla was approached by a pair of females who hesitated a moment before speaking. Dark haired and pale skinned, they were very pretty individually and physically stunning as a pair. It only took Camilla half a second to recognize the succubae for what they were. Speaking in the tongue of their people, they prompted her with a lucrative deal that really shouldn't been humorous, but she laughed anyways.

Seeing her distraction, Clint ambled in behind her, "Need help?"

Camilla laughed again, "No, I think it's you who might need the help."

His expression brightened, "Really? Why?"

"They want to buy you from me," Camilla answered, gesturing to the women who looked hungrily at Clint. To his credit, he merely smiled mischievously and sent them a nod in greeting. Their smiles widened, eyes narrowing into leers as they assessed his build.

"How much are they offering?" He asked, playing along for the moment.

"Ten thousand, American dollars."

"Not a bad price. Maybe I'd be okay with being sold to these lovely ladies," He teased gently, one hand touching the small of her back, drawing her closer.

Camilla shrugged, "Suit yourself, but most of their purchases end out disemboweled."

A strange look flashed over Clint's face and the smile dropped as his pallor turned to ash. Camilla felt the amusement well up inside her as he considered the consequences of teasing such interested customers. She slipped an arm around his waist and patted his belly gently, politely turning the women down in their own tongue. They frowned and took one last longing look at Clint before turning away and exiting the booth.

"Lucky for you, I'm not in the selling mood," She murmured giving him a squeeze.

"Gee, thanks," He replied wryly, no venom reaching his voice.

Giving him one more affectionate pat, Camilla moved away to address the cousin Wentworth as he approached from the back of the stall. Tall, lanky, and reasonably attractive, he gave them each a welcoming smile.

"My name is Glen, how can I help you?"

It was Kenny who piped up first, "We're looking for quartz, and potentially a sacred object."

"My, my," Glen replied, "So direct. I like that. If you'll follow me to the back room, we can discuss your needs."

The back room was more of a tent filled to the brim with various boxes and jars. Camilla had to ease around a teetering pile of something that, quite frankly, she didn't recognize as remotely animal, material, or mineral in order to take one of the proffered seats at a long rectangular table. Glenn sat opposite her, Lucy on her left and Kenny on her right. Clint remained standing behind her, a force for her security despite his quiet attitude.

"I can get you the quartz in two weeks, but I may have the sacred object you are seeking here for sale today," Glen announced, his posture very casual. Camilla looked at her comrades, noting the narrowing of Lucy's eyes as she geared up for the battle. With any luck, Glen would recognize the unyielding countenance of Lucy's negotiation skills and let the woman have her way. Otherwise, they'd be there all damn day.

"We'll start with the sacred object," Lucy began. "Show us what you have."

Glen nodded accommodatingly and reached behind him to pull a large metal container from a shelf of wooden chests. He opened the box with a flourish and presented several small objects, lining them up carefully. Camilla recognized only one, a Cajun voodoo serpent carved from what looked like bone. It would be minimally effective in their ritual as Astar didn't answer to the Cajun gods and would probably incinerate it with a baleful look. The other objects looked half cracked and abused, hardly in the condition to take on a high level demon.

She touched the table, her fingertips brushing forward in a gesture of dismissal, "We're looking for a sacred object of a more Christian bent, and, perhaps, in better condition."

Glen's eyes flicked down a moment, considering her request as he packed the objects into their tin and set it aside. With a clap of his hands, he brought forth another box, opening it with an indulgent smile that looked half sneering.

"Perhaps this will be more to your liking," He murmured. "A rough hewn cross blessed by the first pope."

Camilla eyed the object, "Can it be verified?"

Glen blinked a moment at her, "Of course, there is no true verification for something this old."

"We'll need something we can be sure is sacred." Camilla cut his explanations off, waving away the cross with a shrug. Lucy smirked beside her and Kenny folded his hands in a gesture she had learned was anxious. They might know the Wentworth stall, but if the cousin had something powerful enough hidden back here, he could possibly injure them if he felt slighted. Camilla didn't want to insult Glen, but they needed something very particular in order to perform the ritual and they couldn't be too strict in their requirements.

Shutting the box with a small huff, Glen set it aside with the metal box of small sacred object and dug around in the one of the chests sitting behind him. Finally, he produced a bundle of silk which he unwrapped carefully with nimble fingers. Camilla leaned forward to catch sight of a rounded ball of crystal the reflected the light strangely.

"An orb from the spear of destiny. If you use it right, it will channel the power of God." Glen's explanation was given with such surety that Camilla thought he might be lying. She turned her attention to Lucy, who was eyeing the piece critically. Leaning back, Camilla removed herself unspeaking from the negotiation, giving Lucy the go-ahead to begin pricing the object.

"How much?" Lucy prompted evenly.

Glen rubbed his chin, giving the façade of thinking about the question. "I think, twenty five thousand would be sufficient."

"Absolutely not," Lucy retorted with a snort. "Ten."

He gasped, "I believe I'm affronted. Seventeen."

"Twelve-five," Lucy replied without skipping a beat.

With a roll of his eyes, Glen countered, "Fifteen."

"Thirteen, and not a penny more. We have a piece waiting at Unger's if you're not willing to cooperate." It was a ballsy move, a bluff of the most devious sort. But, Camilla was impressed with how unblinkingly Lucy delivered the line, her jaw set so hard she could almost hear her teeth grind. Glen took a moment to consider the possibility of losing their business completely, but she could see that he would cave in the twitching of one eyelid. Camilla could barely hide the smile.

"Fine," Glen answered. "Cash, up front."

Reaching into the pocket of her sweater, Camilla palmed the roll of money and discreetly flicked through until she had the proper amount. Sliding the bills halfway across the table, she waited for Glen to relinquish the orb before letting her fingers lift from the pile.

Glen counted the payment and then shoved it into the pocket of his linen pants. "Now, about the quartz."

"We'll need it faster than two weeks, Glen." Kenny finally found his voice, "The routes run every three days on this side of the country."

Glen shrugged, "I may not have access to those routes."

Lucy chuckled, "Then, maybe we should go elsewhere."

Camilla watched Glen work to control the expression on his face with so much difficulty that his general appearance was that of constipation. She had to admit that it was a step up from the almost slimy courtesy he had generally been showing since they'd walked in. Lucy crossed her arms and sent Glen a hard look meant to spur the man into action. He tapped his hands on the table, rolling his tongue around in his mouth while he once more considered his options.

"I might be able to get the stones to you in five days, but that is the fastest I can have them prepared and blessed."

Lucy glanced to Kenny, then to Camilla, seeming to receive validation from both, "And your price…?"

Glen smiled in such a way that Camilla felt her stomach drop, stirring up a sour taste at the back of her throat. His eyes flicked to her face and down the length of her body left exposed above the rim of the table.

"I want that one," he pointed to Camilla, "For twenty four hours."

Surprise was not the emotion Camilla was feeling—bartering human services was not uncommon at the troll market. What she was feeling was pity because he obviously did not know what kind of people with which he was making a deal. In a movement that seemed to be cued, all three of the Guardians at the table pulled at the sleeves of their jackets, forearms resting on the table in front of them. Glen's eyes widened exponentially, his jaw unhinging for the barest of moments before he was leaning away and offering his apologies.

Camilla spoke lowly, evenly, and with as much threat in her tone as she could muster, "You don't know us, but you know who we represent. That is the only fact that is saving your hide right now. I want you to think carefully about your asking price, and then I want you to answer my friend's question one more time."

Swallowing, Glen muttered, "Five thousand for the stones, another two for the express rate."

"Fine," Camilla replied, "We will return in five days. And, Glen, if those stones aren't here when we get back, you'll be hearing from the council." It was an empty threat as the council would not take hearings until their session was dismissed, but rumors of the council's swift and vicious reaction to any perceived attacks on their Guardians would be enough to light a fire under him, at least until they could get the quartz. She hoped that he didn't grow some ill conceived bravado in the meantime, but planned to be well armed just in case.

They exited the booth as a unit, following the alleys back to their entrance point easily. As they once more piled into the car, Camilla turned over the engine and shifted to look at the group, "You guys hungry?"

Just as a teaser, you'll get to meet Astar in chapter 9.