here come the angels

Gabriel de le Poer · 03-23-2011, 05:18 PM

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Word Count: 510

Each word fell on him like a curse and rolled off his sable-brushed pelt. Did she think she was the first to accuse him of such wrongs? The wolves in Scintilla had found far worse obscenities to hurl at the half-breed. His brother, whom Gabriel had raised from childhood, had looked at him with hate in his eyes the day he learned of the fire. It did not surprise him to see her like this. Unlike her brother, who understood the reason they had been sent away, Talitha was fragile and unfit for war.

Clean it up. His tail rose to a brush-bottle thing and his face turned terrible. She dared to speak of murdering children, his children, in front of him? Gabriel growled deeply in his throat, terrible lion’s eyes filled with pent-up violence. If she was not his daughter he would have struck her down for such brazen disrespect. If he did not, Alaine’s pack would—he did not need to have met their leader to recognize the scent of a male in his prime along the borders. They would destroy his daughter, though Gabriel knew he would have stopped her long beforehand; his duty was to Inferni first. He would not risk open war over one girl’s jealousy.

Her fury pitched into a hysteric fit. The girl’s awkward body writhed in the sand, and her father finally advanced. He did not touch her, but spoke with a voice like steel. “You were sent away to protect you from war. When you returned, you did so against my will—and God made you suffer.” His faith had taught him all things obeyed the Lord, even demons. Gabriel’s eyes burnt against his dark face, no longer simply her father but now preaching as he had seen Eli do countless years ago. There was power in the Word, and Gabriel saw no other way of making her understand. “I did not ask for the children that came after you and your brother. They were made for others; for their mothers, not for me. I do not question His Will, nor should you.”

Around his neck the holy signs felt heavy, at odds against the one of his father before him. “Our lives are made up of choices, Talitha. Daughter or not, if you go against those children, you would risk your home here. I will not have Inferni pulled into another war because of your mother’s bloodline,” he said darkly, the hatred for Asphyxia and her daughter all too clear on his face. It had been because of her idiotic attack on a pregnant woman that the first Dahlian War had been sparked—and that Haku had been brought to the seat of power that he used to begin the second. If not for her, the clan would not have suffered in the ways it had. “Stop behaving like a child,” the Aquila went on, voice stern. “Nothing has or will change because of any of my other children. They are not, nor will they ever be, parts of Inferni.”

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