Darker Angels

Tazzy, Miss Murder and DarkCrusnikMagician: Thanks for the reviews. I’ll answer better when work and school aren’t gleefully kicking my ass.

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Circe stood on one of the many overhanging balconies watching the two men in the garden below with a slightly heavy heart. She really couldn’t be all that upset, she mused. They were very pretty together. She loved her brother dearly and Abel certainly seemed to make him happier than she’d seen him in a good while. But it was always hard to watch your first crush with someone else, especially when the someone else happened to be a member of your family.



Well, she thought, Abel wasn’t exactly her *first* crush. It had more or less been a double whammy at the time with both Cain and Abel. But Abel had been moody and pissy in the way only a teenage boy can manage so she had gravitated more toward the perpetually cheerful Cain for a little while. That particular fascination had broken when she had finally gotten a good handle on her telepathic abilities and could read what really went on in Cain’s head. She had been able to break through those walls and touch the well of darkness inside of him. She understood the darkness within a soul far better than most did or ever would. After all, her fathers were two of the most skilled killers in the world, trained by the old order of Rosenkreuz and were the elite of the elite. The new breed couldn’t begin to compare to that level of viciousness.



It was inevitable, she supposed, that someone had picked up on the somewhat maudlin vibe she’d no doubt been sending unintentionally. She smiled a little and leaned back against the person who had come up behind her.



“You okay?” Hunt asked, putting his chin on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist.



“I have to be. No other choice.”



“Yeah. But almost a thousand years is a damn long time to have a crush on someone.”



She shrugged. “It’s okay, Hunt. Really. I think Abel might be a little too tame for me anyway. But he may be perfect for Gun.”



Hunt laughed. “I wasn’t going to say it but I think you’re probably right. You and I seem to be destined for somewhat wilder fare.”



“Speaking of wilder fare . . .” Circe said, glancing up at him with a positively evil smile.



“I’ll go see if there’s apple wood to be had.”



“And I’ll go see if Blaze has any decent meat in the house. Please don’t blow up the smoker again.”



“I didn’t *plan* it the last time it just kind of happened.”



“A likely story,” she said, walking the opposite direction toward the kitchen. She dug around in the meat storage for a few minutes before finding something she considered perfect for the task at hand. //Hey, Hunt, got that wood yet?//



//Yeah. Go grab one of the firestarters for me. Preferably Blaze, I don’t think you really want to see what’s probably going on in Taka’s bedroom.//



Circe laughed out loud. //Probably not.//



“Okay, kid. What’s wrong?” came Star’s voice from the doorway.



“What makes you think something is wrong, Tante?”



“Because, you and Hunt are planning to barbecue. You never want barbecue unless you’re upset about something,” Star said, giving her adopted niece a hard look.



“You know that isn’t true, Tante. Well, not completely anyway.”



“I’m so not believing that. Now, spill it.”



Circe sighed. She should have remembered it was damn near impossible to keep anything secret in a house full of empaths and telepaths. If Star hadn’t picked up on it then Skye or Blaze would have.



“Are you going to tell me or do I need to get Oracle?”



“No. There’s no need to get Dad involved. He and Mater would just mother hen me if they knew and that’s rather like being pecked to death by ducks. It’s just very weird to lose a long time crush to my brother, is all.”



“Ah, Abel. Gotcha,” Star said, coming over to hug the other woman. “If it’s any consolation, I think there’s another very pretty priest who has a thing for you. Though I’m afraid you’ll have to give him a seriously hard push to get him to admit to it.”



“I know. Plus, he’s human. You know their lifespans are seventy years at best.”



Star leveled a very serious look at her. “Look, kiddo. If anyone knows about the short lifespans of a human being, it’s me. How do you think I felt when I had to watch Jeirn die lifetime after lifetime before he was thirty?”



“Point taken. Was it worth the trouble?”



“Some days I’m not so sure. But most of the time, yeah.”





Tres watched with interest as Takara pulled the brush through her hair in long strokes. He frowned a little, going over several things that had crossed his circuits. One of those things being how familiar watching her do something so simple as brush her hair was. It also brought back that single word that kept coming to him in connection to her.



“Princess?”



“Hmm? What is it, Tres?”



“I’ve been meaning to ask you about something since I’m fairly certain it concerns you.”



She turned around in her seat and looked at him expectantly.



“Do you know what the word *mitawa* means?”



The brush fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers and landed at her feet with a soft thump.



“I take it you do know.”



“How do you know that?” she asked, staring at him with wide eyes. “No one aside from Clan members and their mates have even heard that word.”



“Is that what’s making you upset? That I know it even though I don’t know what it means?”



“No. I’m not upset, Tres. I think shocked is a more appropriate term.”



Tres moved from his place on the bed to sit beside her on the small vanity bench. He smiled a little as she instantly curled into him. He tucked a lock of her hair behind one ear and looked her directly in the eyes. “What does it mean, Princess?”



“It’s hard to translate accurately as the Clan languages don’t have roots in any language that’s Terran or Methuselah. The closest thing it could be attributed to is *mine*. The last time I heard it was before my husband, Christopher left for the battlefield during the last war.”





Blaze looked up when she heard the door to the library open and waited while the tall, well dressed man came up to her desk and dropped several folders onto it.



“Ah, Oracle. I can always count on you to be efficient in any task I set for you.”



“Of course,” he said, pushing his glasses up. “I suggest you keep those files out of Takara’s hands until you’ve read them yourself as a whole. It would be better for that information to come to her through her mother rather than hard data sheets.”



Blaze frowned. “Is it that bad?”



“It will enrage her beyond measure and considering those responsible are long dead, she would have no outlet for that anger if given all the information at once,” he said solemnly.



Blaze nodded and pulled the various files toward her. “Thank you.”



“I’m going to look in on my children for a moment and if you don’t need her, collect Skye for a while.”



“Dare I ask?” Blaze said, smiling slightly and trying her best to avoid laughing outright.



He heaved a long suffering sigh. “When I left them, her husband and mine were telepathically harassing one another. I expect they’ll be unconscious by the time we get back to them.”



“Quite probably.”



He waved over one shoulder and walked out the door. Blaze flattened one hand over the files on her desk and tried to brace herself for what might be contained in them. She’d had an odd suspicion for the last few days and had consequently sent Oracle to track down the things that most people couldn’t get anywhere near. She opened the first folder and tried to quiet the rolling in her stomach as she read the top of the first page.



Security Level: 9 TOP SECRET

Termination Order: Bruce, Christopher Elias-Volos Clan. Breed: Canis Lupus.

Creation Order: Android H C-III X



********Author’s Notes********

Language: Mitawa is actually a word meaning mine in Lakota, which is a Native American language. It was something my great grandmother always said when any of the kids were getting into things we shouldn’t, usually HER things that we knew we weren't supposed to touch. I probably have the spelling and general use wrong but hopefully I’m forgiven as I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it spoken in almost thirty years.