Something Dangerous: Part 2

“How could you get me involved?” Titus demanded, readjusting his already immaculate clothing. Crypt rolled his eyes at his brother’s actions. He had told his brother it wasn’t his idea four times already, and didn’t think that a fifth time was necessary.

“Why are you wearing robes?” They were on the surface, waiting roughly twelve steps away from Michael. It was protocol, of course, for Michael to bring along an angel just in case he was met with something that was too much for the Archangel to handle. They were to act as Michael’s guards until their targets were identified.

Such an assignment allowed them to wear clothing befitting the area and time period, an allowance Crypt had taken full advantage of, with a less than agreeable slogan printed tank top (saying several words he was unable to utter) and a faded pair of dark jeans. Titus, however, had gone for the traditional robe that most angels wore during their duties.

Michael, though he would never admit it, couldn’t see how they were twins to begin with. They didn’t look alike; they didn’t act alike, nothing. Someone must have lied somewhere, he reasoned. And yet, as most ascended twins, their Threads of Fate were intertwined in such ways that there was no choice but to keep them together. It was a mystery that had yet to tackled, let alone solved.

“Who is he talking to?” Crypt was beginning to get impatient, and it showed.

“I believe Michael said something about him being a professor,” Titus supplied.

“It’s obvious that he’s a professor. You didn’t answer my question.”

Smith. The name jumped out in Crypt’s head, which was rather unusual. He hadn’t recalled being told the professor’s name. Titus’s response, whatever it may have been, was lost to him as he tried to figure out just where he’d heard the name. Titus, however, wouldn’t stand for being ignored and lightly touched Crypt’s shoulder to get his attention.

“What?”

“Look,” Titus pointed toward Michael. Joining both him and the professor was a young redhead. Crypt, having nothing better to do, settled on studying her.

She roughly five foot six, and unhealthily pale. Definitely not human, Crypt concluded, as humans didn’t usually have a lean build and an obvious albino skin tone without the usual reddish purple gaze and other outward signs. That particular mix was almost purely associated with European vampyres, but that didn’t seem right either. She lacked the blue tinge to her skin that signaled a lower heart rate.

“Why must everything be rather unusual?” Crypt muttered to no one in particular, just as Michael waved them over. He grabbed Titus, who seemed to be tongue tied, by the collar of his robes and dragged him over to the Archangel before unceremoniously dropping him on the floor.

“Crypt, Titus, this is Miss Merci Sin,” Michael introduced the redhead. “And this,” gesturing to the salt and pepper professor, “-is her Protocols professor, Smith.”

“A pleasure,” Crypt, the not so obvious ladies’ man, greeted while Titus was busy tripping over himself and rearranging his robes.

“Likewise,” Merci’s icy response cut at Crypt more than really necessary.

“Now, Miss Merci, I’d like you to introduce these two to your sister, if that’s at all possible.” Michael suggested rather warmly.

“I’m not making any promises, St. Michael. She’s particular about the company she keeps.” Merci turned to Crypt, her bangs nearly covering molten turquoise eyes. Too bad they froze upon landing on him. “Follow me, and don’t do anything stupid.” The command was curt, and Crypt nodded. She paid no mind to Titus.

“I will check in with you two in a few days,” Michael assured them before taking his leave. That professor… Smith? was nowhere to be seen.

“Let’s go.” Merci didn’t bother waiting, instead turning toward the door and heading directly for it. Titus, after tripping over himself for several moments, was hot on her heels- leaving Crypt to follow at his own pace. He could almost guarantee that this case was going to give him one hell of a headache at least.

♠

Deceit was a lady of few words, and a vast amount of quirks. St. Michael, however, held a special place on her list of people to avoid at all costs, and a call from him was the last thing she needed. The call was surprisingly short and still managed to annoy her to no end. Merci would be escorting two angels of questionable caliber to join St. Gabriel’s guard, and she didn’t get a choice in the matter. He had even assured her that they would fit right in to the company she already kept. She decided to be the better adult, and hung up on him without a word.

“Etna,” Her voice was gravel over the intercom. “We’re expecting two angels accompanying Merc home. Make sure they get rooms near Gabrielle’s.”

“St. Gabriel is going to throw another fit if you keep calling him that, ‘Ciet, but consider it done. I’ll bring tea up in a few moments.” The intercom clicked off, and the library fell back into its normal state of near silence, broken only by the flipping of pages and the occasional hiss of a pocket-sized basilisk slinking under the floorboards. But that was a story for another time.

“Miss Deceit, we’ve received a new shipment of books. Would you mind giving them a look for me?” Athena, one of the resident gargoyles, asked. Her voice was almost silken in comparison to her appearance.

Deceit nodded, gesturing to her desk where a sizable amount of tomes were stacked in a way to resemble St. Basil’s Cathedral in Moscow. “Could you shelve these for me?”

“Of course,” Athena gave a slight bow of respect as Deceit stood, though the difference between their heights was rather obvious anyway. She nodded in response and disappeared behind rows of shelves only moments before the door opened.

“Ah, Athena, could you be a dear and point me in the direction of my niece? I brought tea.” Etna asked upon entrance, a tray laden full of small sandwiches and tea, though there was an obvious lack of a sweetener, was carefully balanced in her firm grasp.

“She should be in the 900’s; there are some new books that she went to look through.” Etna nodded to Athena in thanks and disappeared down a row of shelves.

Deceit's library, which once belonged to her mother, was infamously confusing. Etna had gotten lost and turned around countless times in the seven years she had been working as Deceit's (and, by proxy, Merci’s) cleaning lady. Today was no exception, as she passed what looked to be the exact same display case for the third time. She had a horrible sense of direction, and the temper that ran through both sides of the family.

“Deciet,” She growled-though not loud enough for anyone more than two feet away from her to hear. “I swear to Cete that if you’re making my life difficult, I’ll poison your tea.”

Try going left, her mind supplied her. Etna compiled to the request, despite her better judgment. Another right followed, and she could see the blue hair that could only belong to her niece, partly hidden by a stack of crates. Sure enough, Deceit was sorting through a wooden crate full of old volumes that looked like they were all going to fall apart.

“There you are!” Etna’s voice nearly cracked, making Deceit cringe.

“What?” Deceit asked curtly, not looking up. She tossed a particularly beat up tome to the side, only for the basilisk to abduct it and disappear beneath a shelf, whining about how overworked he was.

“Feodore is stealing your books again, Merci’s home, the two angels can’t go more than three feet into your library until you white list them… oh, and I brought tea.” She listed, balancing the tray on a dangerously stacked pile of books. Once that was accomplished, she poured the rather bitter-looking tea into a mug and passed it off to Deceit.

“Thanks.” Deceit took a sip in between sorting the books. Etna shook her head.

“How do you manage that?” She wondered aloud, getting a pair of lead gloves and handing them to Deceit before she could ask.

“How is it you can discover such a weak curse from meters away?” She countered, switching her usual black gloves for the ones made of lead. The cursed tome in question had no definitive markings, except for November 1962 etched into the spine. Deceit placed it into a protective case and set it aside.

“Why do you even keep those things?” Etna wondered, adding yet another never to be answered question to the air. It wasn’t unusual, of course. Deceit wasn’t exactly the most vocal child on earth. Etna took a few moments of thought before conceding that she wasn’t a child anymore, and hadn’t been for some time. “Anyways, you have angels waiting to be white-listed and if they wait too long, I think the blond one is going to jump Merci.”

“You sound almost excited about that.” Deceit stood and brushed dust from her jeans, then took a few moments to switch back her gloves.

“I am a chaos demon, after all.” Deceit only rolled her eyes at Etna’s seemingly innocent act.

“Who am I dealing with?”

“Crypt is the one with black hair, Titus is the blond. They’re twin angels-”

“Don’t we have enough of them kicking around?” In her defense, she had two angels and an archangel making regular appearances on her property. Darius, St. Gabriel’s right hand for just about anything that Lou, his betrothed, didn’t handle, was particularly annoying.

“Apparently not; this one has two archangels’ signatures. They’re joining Gabriel’s guard.” She paused for a moment. “They’re rather pretty to look at, though. At least the dark haired one is. That’s a plus, right?”

“I hope they get eaten by a tree.” Deceit gave Etna a split second sour look before dropping all expression and leaning up against her desk. Etna bit back a smile and left the two of them to deal with one of the most difficult girls they would ever have the pleasure of meeting.

On the other side of the door, Titus was rather uncomfortable beneath Deceit's scrutinizing gaze, shifting restlessly. Crypt, being the more difficult of the two, all but started a staring contest with the blue haired girl he may or may not have been assigned to protect. But, if anyone asked, he’d deny everything until he died… and probably after that, too.

Merci, having had followed the two new guys into Deceit's library, was sprawled out on one of the upholstered couches with a dated copy of Biochemistry Weekly claiming her attention. She’d read that particular copy seven times before, but it was one of the better excuses she had come up with to see the possible fireworks unfold. Tyrant, an experiment she wore as a bracelet, seemed to get much more enjoyment out of the article detailing the proper dissection of the synthetic organs used in most modern Hybrid experiments. Everything was silent for a few moments before Merci decided to switch positions and promptly growled as she accidentally pulled her hair in the process. Deceit reached behind her and then threw a clip at her younger sister- who caught it rather gracefully, Titus noted.

“Names.”

“Crypt, if that was the question.” She could deal with that one, Deceit decided. The blond, on the other hand, he was too virtuous as far as she could tell for her to be comfortable with. “And that’s my brother, Titus.” Crypt added on after a few moments of consideration.

“Wonderful. I assume you have papers.” Deceit was known for her non-questions. Almost anyone would agree or disagree with her statement without needing an inquiry. Such were the people she had to deal with.

Sure enough, Titus produced an envelope with the gold sun disk emblem used by the Archangels. Deceit spent several moments reading over the paperwork before sighing.

“Damn it all, why can’t Mike leave me a loophole once in awhile? May that saint burn.” Deceit growled, signing the bottom of the page and shoving it back into the envelope, which vanished when she was done.

“Another official order?” Merci asked curiously, feet perched on the top of the couch.

“Isn’t it always, coming from him?” Deceit sighed, opening a drawer. “Do you two have cell phones?”

“What’s a cell phone?”

“No.”

“Even better, you do now.” Deceit threw a boring flip phone at Crypt’s face, which caught it with easy. She then proceeded to do the same to Titus, who didn’t have such good reflexes and ended up catching it with his face. “Show the idiot how to use it, Crypt.”

“You sound like you’re going somewhere.” Merci had been around Deceit long enough to pick up her non-question habit, though she had yet to receive an answer on any of them. This time, it was because Deceit was busy muttering a spell. No, Merci corrected herself, two spells.

“Have you two ever been summoned?” Deceit asked the boys, who had a chill of apprehension go down their spines.

“N-no…” was the collective answer.

“Merci?” As if on cue, Merci jumped up with more enthusiasm than either of the angels had seen on her since they met.

“Let me walk you through the whole summoning thing,” She grinned. Titus would tell you that her smile was stunning, absolutely flawless. Crypt would be too busy being creeped out to say anything. “If you will, please step over here…” Without giving them a chance, she grabbed their wrists and pulled. To their surprise, Merci held a lot of force for such a small girl. The angels landed in an unforgiving heap.

“Now, if you’ll please turn your attention to the closed door here,” Merci gestured to a door between two upholstered armchairs. “For future reference, this door connects this library to the lower one. You two are on the white list of both, so any active general restriction spells will not affect you.

“Moving on, this is also the door for summoning. My sister will give you an example.”

“Darius,” Deceit spoke the name clearly, and a moment later there was a sickening slam on the other side of the door. Merci opened it to reveal a very ragged Darius, with his wings bent at awkward angles.

“That is summoning.” Merci’s tone was still rather cheerful, which only made the angel twins more concerned. “If you ever forget your cell phone- or piss my sister off- your face will be the newest impression to my door.” She flashed them a jaw dropping smile as Darius managed to get to his feet.

“Miss Deceit, was that really necessary? I just got back from the chiropractor…” Darius whined, rolling his shoulder.

“Yes, it was.” Deceit deadpanned in response. “Crypt and Titus have been ordered to join Gabriel’s circus, get them out of my library.”

“Of course,” He motioned for the boys to follow him, a request they were only too happy to fill.

“I think we scared them,” Merci sighed once they were gone. Deceit just shrugged, digging something out of her bag.

“If they couldn’t handle that, they’re going to die of shock when the front lawn eats them.” As if on cue, there were three consecutive screams from the front yard.

“That was fast.”

“Merc, will you handle that? I’ve got books to sort. And get the mail while you’re at it.” She disappeared behind a bookshelf as Merci stood up and sighed.

“Well, if anything, I have two new victims.” She muttered to no one in particular, leaving her sister’s library. Taking the stairs two at a time, she flew down the spiral staircase, and then hopped over the side of a white couch. After a maze worth of corridors and brightly painted halls- it was a common theme- she busted out of the front door dramatically, which closed silently behind her.

Good day, Miss Merci. Freddy, one of her better biochemistry successes, greeted as she passed. She had a vague suspicion that he was lacking in vitamin D with the amount of sun bathing Freddy had been doing recently. He was, in essence, a four foot tall Venus fly trap with teeth and knack for picking locks. It had taken her while to produce a viable subject, she couldn’t say just how any failed attempts she’d had before creating Freddy’s predecessor, whom she had lovingly nicknamed Jimmy. Jimmy’s entire purpose was to finally pick the lock to Deceit's safe, but after its fifteenth failure something went array within the plant’s already unstable mind. Merci spent a week scraping his remains from the fireplace, and then went to work on Jimmy II, who later evolved into Freddy. Unfortunately, he developed a fertilizer dependency, which her sister was quick to exploit. It was sad, really, but at least this one hadn’t committed suicide, at least not yet, anyway.

“Hi there, Dionaea musciouia mutation, how are you?” She asked conversationally, taking the day’s mail from its box and looked through them. Love letter, love letter, official business letter, love letter, letter from school, postcard, love letter, electric bill, gas bill, magical barrier bill, love letter, and a new copy of Biochemistry Weekly. Merci debated canceling her date with Xavier later just to spend her night holed up in the lab… She shook her head. Deceit sent her down here to free three idiot angels and possibly the mailman. Merci couldn’t get distracted by a new magazine… of her favorite hobby…

They’re going to run out of oxygen soon if you don’t get to them soon. Freddy wrote on his whiteboard, both as a reminder and a voice of reason.

“I know, but we could do with a few less angels around here…” She trailed off. The angels may have deserved it, but if the mailman died, who would bring her the new issues of Biochemistry Weekly? Merci sighed; she had been beaten by a mutation, a science experiment, her creation. It wasn’t the first time, either.

Winning. Freddy seemed smug, or whatever the plant equivalent to smug was. She glared at him and threw the mail at him, minus her precious magazine.

“Alright, Capriola dactylon abomination, spit the angels up or I’ll light you on fire.”

Nothing happened for several moments.

“Alright fine, lawn, I’ll have Deceit set you on fire. How does that sound?”

There were sudden oofs as three angels were spit onto the sidewalk, the lawn’s shape bouncing back to normal almost immediately.

“And the mailman,” Merci added, thinking of all the possible genetic mutations that could be detailed in the next issue. The mailman landed with a bit more grace than its previous captives, though that could have been partly attributed to the lack of wings. He stowed a flashlight and a book into his mailbag, tipped his hat and went on his way.

“H-he brings a book?”

“You’d think he gets swallowed by a patch of grass every day with that kind of reaction.” Crypt got to his feet, trying to brush some of the dirt out of his jeans while suppressing signs of shock. He’d be damned if he let this get to him… at least in front of such a pretty lady. He’d never be able to live it down.

“Oh, he does.” Merci assured them, taking pleasure in how pale Darius’s face became.

“W-what’s that?” Titus asked, more preoccupied with how close Freddy was than anything else.

“Oh, that’s just Freddy. You’re going to see a lot of him during your time imposing on my sister.” Merci may have looked innocent, but her words were anything but. Titus, having picked up on it, gulped. He just had to find the deceptively innocent one attractive.

“This assignment is going to be the death of me,” Crypt muttered to himself.

You’d think they’ve never seen a moving plant before. Freddy almost looked like he was pouting, but it didn’t seem to matter to the angels before him.

“I-it moved!” Darius ran as fast as his legs would carry him, with both Crypt and Titus hot on his trail.

Assholes.

“Come on, Freddy, I’ll get you some fertilizer.” Merci promised, and Freddy’s leaves lifted in response. They headed inside, the day’s mail all but forgotten on the front lawn.