Phoenix Contract: Part Five (Fallen Angel Watchers) by Melissa Thomas Page A

chorus of assent seemed to affirm that the other three would attempt to refrain from further stupidity.
    “Smart boy,” Aiden drawled, even though he had to be at least twenty-five. “I’m betting that you’ve already been to the Archaeology Building and seen the bodies, so you know that I can and will use this. Now, I’m a lot shorter than you, so at this range I’ll be blowing off something a lot lower than your head. To quote my favorite pirate, savvy?”
    Dark lashes swept down and then up in a slow blink over intelligent blue eyes. “Savvy,” he confirmed. “But before you start shooting, how about just listening to me for a minute? We’re not your enemy. We’re the good guys.”
    “That’s not how it looks from my perspective,” Aiden said. Tugging at Kieran’s belt, she forced him to walk with her, moving several paces so that they were no longer surrounded. “So, chasing women around in the dark is just your idea of fun? Talk, you’ve got one minute.”
    By backing up, she got a better look at the other three men. The bunch of them were six feet tall, at the shortest, making Aiden feel like a sapling in a forest of redwoods.
    “We’re Of the Blood - House Armaros - and we were sent to help. My name’s Kieran.” He gestured toward the twins. Rory had finally gotten back on his feet, but still wore a grimace that was distinctly at odds with his brother’s grin. “That’s Rory and Culkin, whom you’ve already met, tho’ don’t ask me which is which.”
    “Not like it makes a bit of difference. They’re both equal idiots,” intoned the fourth man, speaking for the first time. Up until then he’d lurked near the back of the pack and done nothing to draw attention.
    “Oh really?” Aiden drawled, glancing in his direction. She wasn’t relinquishing the gun just yet, but her posture relaxed marginally.
    Culkin’s unwavering grin was damn infectious.
    “That’s Tristan,” Kieran supplied grudgingly.
    “Hey,” Tristan muttered. Of the four, he was easily the youngest, barely out of his teens, and the shortest at a mere six feet. Tristan was also the best looking, drop dead, movie star gorgeous, as opposed to merely handsome. He had shaggy blond hair that hung to his shoulders and fell forward into his face.
    Aiden felt her breath catch as stormy sea green eyes bore holes in her soul. “Are you Niall Talcott’s son?” She had the distinct pleasure of thoroughly surprising him.
    Tristan’s eyes widened. “Grandson,” he corrected. Anger and shame darkened his gaze at the admission.
    Aiden noted his reaction. Hmm... Interesting...
    Scowling, Tristan moved forward a pace so Aiden could get a better look at him. His proximity made her want to jump out of her skin. While she looked at him, he gave her a thorough once over at the same time. Not a one of the men were hard on the eyes, but Tristan set her nerves to tingling.
    “Are all of you related?” Aiden asked, dragging her gaze from Tristan. Aside from their physical differences, they gave the distinct impression of shared kinship. The lot of them reminded her of a group of boys, full grown, but boys, and possibly brothers.
    “Brothers,” Kieran supplied.
    Making a quick judgment call, Aiden released her grip on his belt and withdrew the .45 from his stomach. The simple fact was that the four of them were almost too goofy and good-natured to make her feel threatened.
    With the withdrawal of the gun, Kieran released an audible sigh of relief.
    “But only half,” Rory, or maybe Culkin, said.
    “We had different moms,” the other twin added.
    “But not Tristan,” Kieran continued, ignoring the interruptions.
    “Actually, those two had the same mom, but they’re not so bright, so don’t expect too much from ‘em,” Tristan said, throwing out the sarcastic barb with a smirk. He drew dirty looks from the twins.
    “He’s a second, third?” Kieran frowned. “Cousin. Somethin’ like that.”
    “Third,” Tristan