Her Own Dark Angel

Father knows best

~Two years later~
Simone was playing with Luke's hair, twisting and twirling the soft snowy hair. Well, until they were so rudely interrupted.
She glared at the intruder with her clouded green eyes. Immediately, she shrunk back. It was Father. Father looked tired and annoyed about something. She immediately went to his side, bowing her head slightly in respect. "Father. What is it that you need of me?"
Father looked at Simone with fondness, a small smile curving his lips. "It's the nephilim. They are going to raid our home. They will kill me on sight. Your mother will be coerced or forced to rejoin them and create new runes for them. You and your brothers will either be executed by trial, imprisoned, or seperated and have their covenant forced on you.
" It is making my shoulders heavy with the burden of knowing my family is in danger." Simone thought for a second. Father and Mother were the only people that the triplets had. Father trained them in literature, battle and all things killing. If the clave had her family, the people she loved would be gone. She and Luke shared a look. He thought the same.
She slowly knelt in front of her father, her saviour. "I will do anything to ease your mind, Father. I will not let the Clave destroy our family. My place is with you,Mother, and my brothers. I will do anything for the cause. What do you want me to do?"
She could not see the pleased smirk on Sebastian's face. " My dearest daughter, you and Lucian will travel to the New York Institute. My child, my loyal child, if you do this, my heart will swell with joy, and my mind will be put to rest. You will play with them until I come."
Simone nodded. She was suddenly filled with an odd feeling. Her blood felt thicker, and her mouth watered for blood. "Yes, Father. Anyone specific you want us to play with?"
Father saw the change. Her eyes almost became a silvery green, well more silvery, and her eyes practically glowed. "Yes, my daughter. Jace Herondale. And please, if the option is available, I want you to slice Isabelle Lightwood's hand off. Perhaps with your whip. Portal the hand to me when you are done playing.
"Yes Father."