Sam took one last look around the hotel room. Most of the furniture was wrecked from the struggle between his brother and the two angels, but there hadn't been any wing-shaped burn marks that he had come to associate with the death of an angelic host. Plenty of rust-colored blood stains on the already filthy carpet, but no burn marks. The sheriff's deputy gave him a brisk nod as he slipped back under the crime scene tape.

The hunter felt a thrill of elation that Cas was still alive, although it was tempered by the thought that he may still be Dean's captive. Sam walked quickly across the parking lot towards the Impala, trying to plan out his next move. That was when he noticed the empty passenger seat.

He broke out into a jog, coming up level with the car and peering in, hoping beyond hope that maybe the teenager had decided to take a nap in the back seat. But the Impala was completely empty. Sam brought his fist down hard on the roof of the car.

"Dammit, Claire!" he muttered darkly, running his fingers through his long hair. He glanced around the parking lot, but there was no trace of the teenager. She must have bailed the moment he went into the hotel. Now he had another person to track down.

xxxxxx

Claire Novak knew that Sam was going to be furious, but really, she didn't owe the lanky hunter anything. He could waste his time all day playing cop in her opinion. The sheriff had already told them there had been no bodies found in the hotel, so what was the point of poking around there anyway? Did he think he was Sherlock Holmes or something?

Of course, her idea of just wandering around didn't seem like the best plan either, but she had made her decision and was going to stick with it. Her mom used to like to remind her how stubborn she could be, just like her father. Then she had re-married a year ago and she had stopped talking about Claire's father.

No, she and her father weren't stubborn. They were loyal, unlike some people.

Claire spared a glance over her shoulder. She expected to see Sam barreling down at her, but there were just the normal pedestrians busy about on their mundane, daily errands. She turned back in time to barely keep from colliding with a man. He grabbed her shoulders carefully, helping her regain her balance.

"Steady there, love," he stated, instantly dropping his hands before the gesture could be perceived as threatening.

"Sorry, so sorry," muttered the young girl, ducking her head down and trying to dodge to the left and pass on by.

"Are you quite alright?" he asked, his tone colored with concern. He shifted enough to effectually block her way. He gave her a kind, paternal smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm fine..." Claire murmured, edging away as a sudden wariness filled her chest. "I really am sorry, sir."

The man flashed her a brilliant, albeit devilish, smile. "So polite! I really expected no less from Jimmy Novak's daughter. Your father is such an angel, isn't he, dear?"

Claire's eyes widened. For a moment she considered screaming, but she stamped down the panic and reminded herself that whatever this thing was, it was most likely willing to kill anyone who came to her help. As if in response to her unspoken questions, the man blinked, his eyes changing. But not to the typical black of a regular demon. His eyes were blood red. Claire felt as if she were going to be sick. Then the man in front of her blinked again and his eyes were back to a human brown.

"There's a good girl, now. Let's not cause a scene, shall we?" he asked, gently taking her arm and guiding her down the sidewalk, farther away from where she had left Sam Winchester.

"What do you want from me?" she managed, fighting the urge to jerk her arm from the demon's hold. She forced her breathing to slow as she tried to remain calm. She glanced behind her, vainly hoping to find the hunter running to her rescue, but there was no sign of Sam.

"The name's Crowley, and I'm here to help." He tutted at the disbelieving look she shot his way. "Really, Claire, dear, I am hurt. Castiel and I go way back. We used to be business partners, you see." He smiled wickedly at the shocked and disappointed look on the girl's face. "Ah, our Sammy didn't share that bit with you, did he? He and Dean have always been so protective of that thing that took daddy-dearest from you."

"What does any of this have to do with me?" asked Claire, exerting herself to keep her voice smooth and firm. She couldn't completely banish the small tremor that shook her voice as she spoke.

Crowley beamed down at her, watching the remains of Castiel's grace flickering through her being. So this girl was Dean's Plan B? Well, Crowley could fix that just fine. "You ought to be able to relate to being protective of angels, wouldn't you? What's yours' name again? Matthias was it?"

Claire's jaw clenched as she fought to keep her face neutral. She knew it was foolish to trust anything the demon was saying, but she thought about the angel who had been the only friend she had had for a long time, and she knew she would make the foolhardy decision.

"It's my soul, isn't it? You'll tell me where he is if I give it to you?" she muttered, keeping her eyes fixed on the cement. Her stomach churned, but if this was what it took to help Matthias, she would do it.

"Oh, no, I'm doing this out of the goodness of my own heart. Well, the closest thing to it," he amended, as she darted another incredulous look at him. He grinned at her. "Let's just say it's in my best interest to help you." He laughed as she continued to stare dubiously at him. "Come now, trust your Uncle Crowley."

He guided her off the main street and then through a series of back alleys. The town gave way to woods. Claire felt almost giddy from her heart thudding the further away from others the demon led her. Forget all the things her parents had taught her about not trusting strangers; this was a demon. Granted, a very suave, seemingly genial demon, but a demon none the less. Claire tripped over a root, and held out a hand to steady her self, touching the bark of a nearby tree. She drew her hand away quickly, her fingertips sticky with blood. She could feel the color drain from her face.

"Dean did quite a number on your little boyfriend," commented Crowley breezily. Claire turned to him, her eyes wide and desperate. "Now don't fret, love," he cooed, reaching up and pushing a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. She flinched away from his touch. Crowley just laughed in response.

"You should be glad I am so magnanimous and not so easily offended." He gave her a dark, wicked glance. He dragged her along, deeper into the woods, Claire stumbling behind him. "Ah, here we are..." he announced as they practically stepped on a huddled form half-hidden in the underbrush.

"Matthias!" Claire cried, wrenching her arm free from the demon's grip and tumbling forward, dropping to her knees next to the angel. He stirred, opening eyes that were glazed with pain. Claire gave him a wobbly smile, running her hand through his spiky blonde hair.

"No," he mumbled. He weakly tried to push her hand away. "I don't want you to...see this, Claire," he muttered.

"Matty..." Claire began to admonish, but Crowley cut her off.

"He's too wounded to heal himself," explained the King of Hell, watching the angel disinterestedly. "Normally a rit zien would have already put him out of his misery, but unfortunately for Matty here, Castiel killed one of the few that managed to survive the fall."

Matthias struggled to sit up at the sound of Crowley's voice, his single remaining wing fluttering uselessly. "Demon," he hissed, pulling the human girl closer to him. "Begone!"

Crowley laughed dryly. "Or what? You'll kill me? You can't even stand... And here I brought you your little human for one last goodbye."

"You said you were going to help!" shouted Claire, looking up at him through her tears. "Liar!"

"There is one thing you need to know, Claire Novak," answered Crowley coolly. "I do not lie. You can save your angel." He crooked his finger, beckoning her.

"Claire, whatever he promises, don't..." whispered Matthias, but Claire pulled away from him and he was too weak to stop her. "Please, Claire, it won't be worth it," he begged as she stood on wobbling legs and approached the demon.

"What do I need to do?" Claire asked, her voice cold with determination.

"Your angel is too weak to heal the wounds Dean inflicted on him with the First Blade on his own. Simply put, he needs more grace." And with a smile, Crowley reached into his jacket and pulled out a wicked-looking syringe.