Ava Redman

The three men looked to Eros, “I’m just waiting,” he stepped back and let them pass towards the counter. Eros took a seat in the corner and flipped open a discarded fashion magazine dated back a few years. He hummed a tune and gripped the magazine in a death grip all too aware that he’d taken his hand off the silver pocket watch.             Ramon smacked his hand on the counter, “What can I do for you?”             The three wore identical slate grey hoodies, hoods up, broad shoulders, moving as one singular unit until the first one and shortest slid a piece of paper across the counter.             Ramon took the paper. “Oh right, I see.” He looked up running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “Got one of those in the back, it’s the last one so you’re in luck.” He shot a glance to Eros and Marcus before he said, “I’ll just go get it now,” though he seemed reluctant to leave them alone. 

Eros shrugged. “You’re in the process of getting us something and we’re simply waiting here”-Ramon had no time to argue the ridiculousness of the idea before the bell above the shop front rang and in stepped three beings all hooded, their faces obscured. Their attention went to Eros and Marcus straightaway before stepping in towards the counter.             Marcus hung back inspecting items on the shelves in a darker part of the shop. He was furthest from them obscured by the shadows to hide his elongated skull.             His reputation as Guardian had long preceded him, as his aura often proceeded him. All these three demons would need was to smell the air too close to him, sense the otherness in him, in Eros and know all was not as it seemed.             Then again, Ramon’s clients were of the other persuasion.             They wouldn’t know they were Guardians. Only different. Like they were.             I don’t like this, Candor telepathed, as he watched from Eros’s

Eros said nothing as Marcus moved away from the shop front. Marcus Ambruge turned to Eros, “We wait and see what they want.”             Eros nodded his finger pressed firmly to his watch.             Ramon shot a glance between the two, “Er, my clients are usually private, they don’t like viewers. Yous two bein here ain’t gonna go down well.”             “How often do you get clients?” Eros said.             Ramon shuffled, “I deal in rare, hard to find antiques”-             “From questionable sources,” Eros finished. Ramon glared at him and pointed a finger, he opened his mouth but was cut off. “How many?”             “A few a day, rare when I have more than one at a time.” Ramon shook himself and said, “Yous betta go, my clients don’t like spectators.” 

“It looks like you’ve got guests,” Eros said, his finger pressing the tip of his silver pocket watch. The air thrummed like a static wave, turning the hairs on Eros’s neck straight up. They had moments to decide what to do. Moments that could alter their path.             Ramon shrugged glancing between them, “chances are they’re just clients. I deal business with all kinds,” though the beads of sweat pooling on his face indicated something else. “I don’t want trouble,” he added reading Eros’s gaze.             “I noticed you cater to demons,” Eros hissed shooting Ramon a narrowed stare.             Ramon replaced the fabric on the jar and pushed it across the counter, “Guess you got what you wanted, don’t gotta sugar coat you don’t like what I do. All I can tell you is dat I served my time as a Guardian, was made to do some awful shit n now I don’t care what side pays. Guys gotta make a livin somehow and Guardians and human supes don’t pay much compared to demons.”          

Chapter 6 Guys, we’ve got company, Candor telepathed. He shot an image of three men heading down the street, their hoods up, and their sunglasses obscuring their faces. It was the glow that surrounded them, the hot stink that had alerted Candor to their otherness.               The glow, the stink of magicke.             No doubt used to blend into the human crowd.