"Tell me yer secret." He whispered seductively in her ear, making his Irish accent thicker knowing it drove her slightly crazy.
"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." Making sure he didn't see how he made her knees weak wasn't easy.
He grinned and kissed the side of her head. "Tha' anythin' like 'I'll show ye mine if ye show me yers'?"
She just shook her head in amusement.

They both had their secrets. Secrets which not many people would easily believe. He was a Saint and she was an Angel. Yes, Saint as in the Boston Saints that were all over the news after a killing spree of the local mob bosses. As for this Angel. Well, her secret wasn't all over TV. She was sent to them to protect them. It took twenty-three years of her life before God came to her in a dream and told her what she was. As for what exactly that was, well, that was for the boys to find out when they were ready.

Connor lit two cigarettes and handed the other off Bri, short for Brighid. She breathed deeply before exhaling the soothing smoke. It was cold enough that they could see their breaths even without the smoke. She let it dangle between her lips as they walked so she could keep her hands in her pocket to keep warm. They walked closer to each other in weather like this, at least that's what she told herself. He was always making sure she was warm enough, Connor was the more sensitive one of the two she felt. Murphy, his twin was more playful about, well, everything.

Let's go back to where this began for Bri. It was a few weeks prior to meeting the boys that she had her first dream from God. Of course like any sane person, she thought she was actually loosing her mind. She had never thought of herself a religious person, let alone someone who would receive messages from God. As time proceeded her dream became more vivid and she started seeing things before they happened. She finally believed when she saw the news story of the Yakaveta trial. That very night she went to the nearest church and prayed. She had never felt that close to God until that night in that church. It was a full moon, she could see it through the stained glass of the Catholic images usually seen in old churches. An Angel was painted on the window beside her. "God," she prayed, "You've got my attention. I'm here for whatever You need me for. Just tell me." With that the tattoo on her back began to burn. She had gotten it for her twenty-first birthday. They covered the sides of her back and a Celtic cross took up the center. Just when she thought she couldn't handle the pain any longer the burning stopped and she fell to the floor. When she opened her eyes she was looking up to the Angel on the window. God had given her what she asked for. From then on, she took to writing each dream down in a leather-bound journal. It became more and more clear that she was meant to find these Saints of South Boston, though she knew it wouldn't be easy.

They were laying low after the trail. Of course, God knew exactly where they were and showed Bri. She walked into the church not long after they had gone in. Keeping to the back, she watched them praying. They were quiet as they moved their rosary beads through their hands. She couldn't help but notice how handsome they were. Her job was to protect them she made sure to keep reminding herself. As they left the church neither looked her way. They kept their heads down and their hands deep in their trench coat pockets. She needed to see for herself exactly where they were staying in case she needed to contact them quickly. For now, this was just observing and learning. At least, that's what it was supposed to be. Turns out she wasn't as good at tailing as she thought she was. They turned down and alley a few yards in front of her. A few moments later she turned and was staring down the silencers of two Berettas. Her hands quickly found their ways out of her pockets and into the night air.
"Who the fuck ye think yer followin'?" The darker haired one asked, pressing his gun against her cheek just below her left eye. The cold metal sent a chill down her spine.
She tried to think quickly. "Hold it fellas. I'm a good guy. And I know you don't kill the good ones." She tried to reason.
They both looked at each other with the cocky grins she would learn to love. "Good? How can ye prove tha' one?" The blond asked for his brother.
"Well," she paused, "I can't. All I can say it that God sent me to you two. He told me where you would be tonight." A small glare appeared on her face when they both started laughing.
"God, aye?" The sputtered through their laughter as they lowered their guns. "I think we got us a crazy one 'ere, Conn."
She rolled her eyes at them. "How would I know that you two are starting tattoos on your backs of Jesus on the cross?" She crossed her arms in front of her to make her point.
They exchanged looks that only the brothers knew the meaning of. "Alright, lass. Ye've caught our attention." Conner started. She lit her own cigarette to try and calm her beating heart while she waited for them to gather their thoughts. "If God did sen' ye, wha' are ye supposed to do for us?"
"I'm supposed to protect you."
Their laughter started before she even finished her sentence. Even though she was supposed to protect them, she was ready to punch them in the noses. "Protect us? Sweethear', if ye do know who we are then ye certainly don' really think we need protectin' now do ye?" Murphy stepped flirtatiously closer to her.
Her glare became more prominent on her face. "Apparently God does. If you don't believe me that's fine. But tomorrow night I'll be in that church if you change your minds." With that she stormed off and disappeared around the corner before they could protest or offer to walk her home. They were gentleman after all.

"For He shall give His angels to charge over thee
to keep thee in all thy ways."
They both woke up in a sweat that night and just stared at each other. "Fuckin' aye." Was all the words they shared until that next evening.

They arrived at the church hours earlier than her. The apologetic look on their faces were enough to know that they had gotten their own messages from God.
"Do we jus' call ye 'Angel' or would ye prefer a differen' name?" Connor asked, actually getting a good look at her. She was very beautiful. Her deep brown eyes seemed to look right through to their souls. Her golden brown hair hung just below her shoulders, curling ever so slightly.
"My name is Brighid, Bri for short."
Murphy reached out and brought her hand to his lips. "Nice to meet you, Angel Bri."
"Brighid? Ye Irish, girl?" Connor asked rolling his eyes at his twin. "Means 'exalted one' did ye know?"
"Aye." She mocked them playfully. "Lived here my whole life though. Well, not Boston. Moved here a few years ago." Noticing Murphy still had a hold of her hand, she gently tugged it from him.
"Tha' moron is me brother Murphy an' I'm Connor." He introduced them, gently smacking his brother on the back of his head.

That was almost three months ago. Since then the three of them had moved in together. It wasn't much more than a studio apartment with a small kitchen and luckily a bathroom she could have some privacy. They each set up their own spaces to sleep in the open room. Mostly they just had twin sized mattresses per person and a few other pieces of furniture. She had never been used to much anyway. With the boys she always felt as if she had everything she needed.

The first night she had a dream after they started living together, both boys drew guns from a dead sleep thinking she was in some sort of danger. It was the same with every dream, no matter what she was dreaming about. She woke with a loud gasp as if she hadn't been breathing the entire time. That was usually paired with waking up drenched in sweat. Murphy quickly became accustom to it and was able to sleep through her episodes. Connor, being the always caring one, would always wake up and offer a side of his bed and the comfort of his arm wrapped around her. At first she thought he was just trying to have sex with her. But she quickly came to know that it was Connor being Connor. She found no better comfort than those nights. His strong chest pressed against her back, his slow steady breathing and powerful heartbeat quickly became her favorite way to sleep.

"Ye've been quiet after this las' dream, doll." Connor probed gently, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to help keep her warm.
She sighed, hoping neither of them had noticed that she hadn't told them about this last vision. Helping to keep her calm, she took another drag from her quickly burning cigarette before tossing it to the sidewalk. "I know." She started.
He kept his arm around her, giving her time to gather her thoughts. His gentle blue eyes never left her face. He couldn't count how many times he'd studied that face of her. Ever since that first night her eyes had always fascinated him. There was something more to them. One day, he hoped to find out exactly what that was.
"You know the guy you two are planning on taking down tomorrow?"
He nodded, keeping quiet to let her continue.
"He has a little boy. The mother was killed, leaving him to be brought up by his father." A few tears started to well in her eyes. "You have to kill that child or he will grow up to be even worse then his father. He will want nothing but revenge on the two of you. The boy will destroy half the churches in Boston to bring you two out into the open." The tears were now slowly falling down her porcelain cheeks.
Connor hadn't realized they stopped walking as he just stared open-mouthed at Bri who refused to look at him in the eye. He slowly gathered his thoughts and turned this Angel towards him. When she still wouldn't look at him, he lifted her chin. "Brighid." He said softly as her eyes met his. "We 'ill not kill a' innocent. Ye know tha'. God knows tha'." Softly, he started to brush the tears from her eyes. "We'll think o' somethin' for the lad."
Nodding, she buried her head into his chest.
As he rubbed her back, he remembered the first time he saw the wings on her back.

They had just started living with her. And the boys were constantly forgetting that they were living with a girl. Connor and Murphy had come home early and didn't think Bri was home. Connor opened the bathroom door just as Bri, with her back to him, dropped her towel. She was mad at him for days after that. Hating having her not talking to him, he picked her up a present. From that day on, she never took off that necklace with the single angel wing on it.

"Okay." She finally said, gathering herself. "Not sure what God will say, but life is about choices. Right?" She pulled away to see his slightly scruffy face.
"Aye." He agreed, moving so that they were walking side-by-side once again.
She took a deep breath still smelling him surrounding her before the smells of the Boston streets took over.

That night her vision was more real than they ever had been. She woke up screaming, causing both boys to draw their guns before realizing it was another dream. They sat on either side of her, trying to get her to come around and know she's safe from whatever went on in her head.
"Murph..." Connor had placed his hand on her back feeling something that seemed to have a different texture than sweat. "Gra' the lights! Quick!"
Murphy rushed to the switch, illuminating their worst fears. Brighid's back was soaked with blood. She was still in a daze as they cut open the back of her shirt to reveal what appeared to be whip markers.
"Fuck." They both said under their breaths as Murphy ran off to gab that medical kit.
Connor took Bri's face between his strong hands, looking to her eyes that still looked into some other world he could only imagine. "Brighid," it wasn't often he used her full name. "Come bac' to me." He coaxed softly, placing a few soft kisses on her face. But she wouldn't come around, even as Murphy started cleaning her wounds. "Wha the fuck, Conn? She looks like she's been beatin' by the same whip as Jaysus 'imself." He grunted, gently continuing to clean up her back.
"I don' fuckin' know." He practically growled to his brother. The growling really wasn't because he was upset with his brother. Something had hurt his Angel. Something that he couldn't shoot.

It was a good hour later of Connor holding her, rocking her, and kissing her before she finally started to come around. At first, she tried pushing him away, unsure of her surrounding or who was holding her. Once she saw Connor's soft blue eyes she knew she was safe and proceeded to cry uncontrollably until her eyes seemed dry out.

Murphy gently rubber her feet and legs while Connor smoothed her hair until she was able to find her voice. "He told me to do it." She mumbled, not really making any sense right away. "I told Him 'no,' Connor." She sighed, pulling herself away from both boys to grab her cigarettes. They both kept silent as she smoked practically all of her cigarette, inhaling deeply with each draw. "God told me to kill the kid tonight when He knew you two wouldn't kill an innocent. I don't know why He thought that I would kill a child. When I told Him 'no' I felt whips on my back. I kept firm, loosing count of the number of whips. Next thing I knew everything went black and I'm staring at you two." She'd wandered to the counters and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, drinking from the bottle itself as if it were water. They both stared at her. She would drink right along with them but never like that.

Murphy gently got up and pulled the bottle from Bri. She protested at first but knew she wouldn't win. "Thanks for the patch up."
"How'd ye know it was me tha' did it?" He asked, smiling softly.
She gently patted his cheek. "You are the best doctor I've ever had."
With a gently kiss to her forehead, he lead her back to a mattress and handed her a lit cigarette.
Wanting a even the smallest smile, Connor poked fun at his brother. "Don' be goin' an' givin' 'im a big head now, love."
A small smile appeared across her soft pink lips. "You're just jealous."
"Aye, he is!" Murphy agreed laughing and pulling his mattress over to his brothers. "Sleep between us, doll. Ye need some rest."
She needed and curled up more on Connor's mattress with her back to Murphy. With her head tucked just under Connor's and Murphy stroking her hair and making sure not to touch her back, it wasn't long before she found herself back asleep. Luckily, she was free of visions for those few hours.

When she woke she was alone, tightly tucked in, on Connor's mattress. She snuggled into his pillow and took a deep breath before finally sitting up and looking around for her boys. The smell of coffee was strong in the air. They were deep in discussion with their backs to her at the bar-top in the kitchen. As silently as possible she made her way to them and quickly placed kisses on each of their cheeks. Connor pulled her onto his lap, grinning like a teenage boy.
"Feelin' better, Angel?" Murphy asked, grinning to them as well.
She nodded, taking a long sip from Connor's coffee. He took his the same as she did, straight black. Murphy always added too much sugar for her taste. "Much, doc." She teased.
"Yer mistaken missy." Connor tutted softly. "Doc runs the bar, ye know tha'."
He received a playful tongue stuck out in response from the girl.
"Careful with tha' tongue aroun' him, migh' give 'im the wrong idea." Murphy teased the flirting pair.
She rolled her eyes in response. "Murph, I think I'm gonna go take a shower. Mind taking off these bandages for me?" She turned towards him, letting him untie the back of her shirt they had cut open only hours earlier.
"Conn..." Murphy started with a look of clear shock on his face. "Come look."
With a look of concern, Connor set Bri on her feet from his lap. What he saw he couldn't believe.
"Stop being so quiet back there." Bri said, starting to get worried.
"Well," Murphy started, "all tha's left is a few scars. They was wide open wounds jus' hours ago."
She felt a few fingers trace along her back, sending a small shiver through her body. "You both sound more shocked than you should be." Holding her shirt around her, she went into the bathroom for a very hot shower to calm herself. She reached around and felt what was left from that vision. There was a family she knew of that took in children. She knew they would be prefect for this child. He would be raised in a good Catholic home and never dream of killing anyway. She just had to make sure he never found out who his father was.

For the rest of the day they planned their approach for the newest Italian mob boss that fought his way to the top, Addario Belmonte. They were going to attack at night. An inside source he told them he was having a big meeting that night to name his right-hand-man. They knew it was their best shot to take them out before they could gather their own resources and find the Saints.

Brighid slowly crept up the fire escape to the window of the boys' room. She watched quietly as the boys guard went out of the room when he heard the commotion downstairs as the Saints made their entrance. The boy continued to play, obliviously to the danger downstairs. She slid the window open and smiled to the boy.
"Hi there. I'm Bri."
The boy backed away, frightened by a strange person coming through his window.
"No, it's okay. I'm your friend. I won't hurt you." She knew in her heart she really wouldn't either.
Her words didn't seem to work on the boy who softly started to cry.
She sighed. "Wait, look." And with that a pair of bright white wings appeared behind her back. She hadn't shown those to anyone since she received them as a gift from God. Not even the twins.
Luckily, the wings seemed to impress the child. He quickly ran to her and let her scoop him up in her arms. He played happily with the feathery texture of her wings while she wrapped a blanket around him. That's when the boys came bursting in. He back was to them and she heard the audible gasp at the sight before them. They didn't have time for this right now.
Connor lowered his gun and placed his hand on Murphy's to do the same. The Celtic cross that he'd memorized on Bri's back was directly between the wings that now came to life from the tattoos on her back. She took a deep breath before turning.
"Finish here, I'm taking him to a family I called earlier. I'll see you at home."
They didn't even nod while she went out the window and disappeared with the child. Once they were in an alley, her wings disappeared to wherever it was they came from. The boy, of no more than three, had fallen asleep in her arms. He was starting to get heavy but she knew she wasn't far.

After a short goodbye and promises from the couple that the boy would be taken care of, then Angel headed home. She knew they were already home and probably still really confused by what they saw. The smell of cigarette smoke was wafting through the halls and got stronger as she reached their door. She had tried her entire walk home to figure out what she was going to say to them, and tried to prepare herself for the worst they might say or do to her. Even though she loved those boys, when faced with strange new things it was human instinct to react. How exactly they were going to do that, well she had to open that door to find out.

Holding her breath, she stepped into the apartment to find the boys chain smoking on their beds. They weren't speaking. Merely sitting directly across from each other staring off into their own worlds. She could feel this wasn't going to end well.
Slipping off her leather jacket, she stood a few feet away from them not faring from the door. "Hi..." It was a lame start but she had to say something.
Murphy stood up first, looking at her as if she were a different person. "Wha' the fuck are ye Bri?" He demanded.
Immediately she was on the defensive which wasn't going to keep things calm. "What the fuck do you mean, what am I?"
"Ye never told us tha' ye were somethin' like tha'!" Connor was keeping quiet while Murphy continued to yell at her.
"Something like what? Did God not tell you that He was sending you a fucking Angel?" She demanded, not being able to stop herself from getting louder.
He rolled his eyes, not admitting she made a valid point. "We was expectin' someone human."
"I'm just as human as you are!"
"We don' have those fuckin' things comin' out our backs, now do we?" Connor calmly asked, refusing to look at Bri.
She stopped yelling. The fact that Connor was so calm hurt her more than she thought it would. It even seemed to stop Murphy in his tracks and stare at Connor. Without another word, Bri calmly grabbed her jacket, a pack of cigarettes that were on a nearby table, and left. All she heard, or wanted to hear, was "Wha' the fuck, Conn?" as she walked down the hall.
"Wha' ye mean wha' the fuck? Yer the one screamin' and yellin' a' 'er." Connor was still too calm, smoking his cigarette and staring at the floor.
His twin went to the kitchen to grab a beer. "Sure I was. Bu' I was exceptin' it. Jus' needed a few more yells ta get ou' me system then I'dve been fine." He lectured, without Connor acting like he was paying any attention. "Ye on the other hand. O' there lookin' so high an' mighty, like yer God 'imself or somethin'. Like ye were the one te decide tha' she's some sort o' freak."
"I never called 'er a freak." He mumbled.
Murphy took a swig of a whiskey bottle before handing it to his brother. "She's right ye know. God did tell us tha' He'd be sendin' us a Angel."
"Aye..." He took a long swig before standing. "Guess we should fin' 'er then, ey?"
They grabbed their coats and headed out.

Brighid wasn't looking to be found for a while. She found a crowded bar that wasn't a local spot for the three of them and tucked herself away in a booth near the back. A waitress about her age served her. "Been there, honey." She offered with a smile as Bri ordered straight vodka with ice. Bri didn't give her much mind. She kept the drinks coming and that's all that mattered to the hurting Angel.

She was about three drinks in, thankful that she'd gone unnoticed by most of the patrons. At least, she thought she was. There were a few larger men sitting at the bar that would look her direction every so often and talked low enough that they could only hear each other. Eventually, the smallest one came over and sat across from her. She barely looked up from her glass as she spoke. "Sorry, not interested. Go find some bimbo." For being pretty drunk she kept herself from slurring her words.
"Happen to know any Saints doll-face?" He sounded born and raised in Boston.
"Michael, Christopher," she started being pretty sarcastic, "oh there was a St. Valentine." She looked up at him with a slight smirk. "What are you one of evangelist groups? Going into bars is probably not the best place to find people wanting to attend church."
She watched his face redden in anger as she talked. "You know what I mean, bitch."
"Afraid I don't." She finished her drink in a large gulp as she heard another man approach the booth.
"She the girl?" The bald one asked.
"Nope sorry. Don't wanna join your little church. Thanks for asking though." She felt the gun press firmly into her ribcage.
"Get up and walk quietly out of here or we start shooting. Starting with that little waitress." He ordered.
She sighed, knowing he was telling the truth. Not wanting to risk innocent lives Bri stood up, only wobbling a little, and walked out of the bar. They lead her into a nearby alley. "Who do you boys work for anyway?" She asked, not really sure she cared.
"Locals tryin' to gain power." The bald said, pulling out his gun and aiming it at her head.
"We'll be on the fast track to the big seats after killin' you." The smaller one said, fidgeting a little.
She rolled her eyes. "You two are idiots." The gun pressed flat against her forehead but she continued. "Killing me might get you some attention. But don't you think killing the boys would get you penthouses and your bosses kissing your asses? Hell you might end up being your own boss."
Both their eyes lit up as the thoughts went through their minds. As they were processing, she quickly knocked the gun from the bald man and it clattered a few feet away from them. Before she could dive for it, the bald man had her by the throat and landed a punch to her stomach with his free hand. She fought back, aiming kicks his direction. Landing a good one to his groin, he dropped her. The smaller man quickly kicked out her legs. She hit the pavement face first. Before she could get up, they were kicking at her sides. The crunch of her ribs rang through her ears. Things started to go black when she heard shouting and guns going off around her, she knew better than to try to get up. The smaller man's body fell beside her with a bullet hole between his eyes that were still open in surprise. She slowly moved away from him, spitting up blood.
"Bri!" She knew those Irish voices anywhere. Her boys had found her. It wasn't long before she was looking into both boys blue eyes.
"We have to get 'er patched up." Connor said quickly to his brother.
She shook her head, spitting out a bit more blood. "Sorry, Connor. I've punctured something," she coughed bringing up more blood, "I can feel it. I won't make it." It was the first time she'd ever seen tears in either of their eyes.
"Ye will, lass." Murphy insisted, lying to himself.
Connor was shaking his head and leaning in to softly kiss her, blood or not. She returned the kiss as best she could. "I love you." She whispered, closing her eyes. Her breathing became more ragged before stopping completely. "I love ye too." She heard whispered against her ear just as things went white.

The boys sat there on the ground of the alley for what felt like years. Connor held Bri's body close to his chest, burring his head in her hair. His eyes were closed tightly but he opened them when a bright light started to covered the body of his Angel. Murphy backed away slightly. Connor wouldn't budge from his position. "Connor..." He barely heard Murphy mumble as the body seemed to disappear behind this light. When it disappeared, Bri's body was still there but there was something different about it, for starters it was breathing. He felt Murphy behind him as Bri's beautiful brown eyes opened. The exact same eyes that had always held the secret of what she truly was.
At first she didn't know where she was and started thrashing to get to get feet. Connor's strong hands held her down. "Bri." He repeated a few times trying to get her to look at him. She finally looked over and saw the brothers, staring at her in amazement.
"Fuckin' aye..." Murphy mumbled, gently touching Bri's face to make sure she was real.
"You're more shocked than you should be." Her voice barely came out as more than a hoarse whisper but it was accompanied by a soft smile.