Summary: Sirius Blacks job is to hunt down monsters and kill them. When the wealthy, newly made werewolf Remus Lupin becomes his next target Sirius takes the job. But suddenly Sirius begins to develop feelings towards his target, has the angel of death finally found a life worth saving?

Warnings: Extremely AU, has almost nothing to do with the books except for the characters. Also slash, I luv slash, slashy slashy slash! Yes back to the warnings also lots of death, guns, knives, and sexual tension between everyone's favorite werewolf and ex-convict.

Disclaimer: Insert witty disclaimer here

"I only do monsters." He growled angrily, crossing powerful arms over his slender torso. "None of this rich kid shit."

"Oh I assure Sirius, he is a monster." White fingers pale as death appeared from the dark shadow that was Tsang, boss, master, and owner. The fingers flung a snap shot down on the metal table.

The picture was of a boy. His back was to the camera, but his head was turned, as if somebody yelled his name. There was an expression of slight shock on his face, mild fear, and confusion. It was a nice expression…the slender bones of the face pulled it off well. It was the eyes that really drew Sirius into the picture. The boy has brilliant amber eyes, none of that light brown shit. These eyes were amber light the highest grade of maple syrup, with splashes of gold and bursts of copper. There was a spark in those eyes that light them up, like a smirk waiting to happen.

Lovely light pink lips were slightly puckered in an O of surprise. The hair seemed to float around his head like a golden halo. The golden hair made the splashes of it in the boys eyes look even brighter. What was more amazing about the hair were the subtle and yet painfully apparent splashes of blood red that blazed in the sunlight.

"Werewolf?" Sirius asked, his voice was completely emotionless. Usually he had some feeling for a target, like or dislike. He felt a magnetic pull to this one, to those eyes.

"Freshly turned," Tsang purred, his voice was like sweet darkness, enveloping and inescapable.

"How much is he worth?" Sirius still starred at the image, marveling at this boy.

"50 grand."

"Somebody wants him dead pretty bad." Sirius whispered. He traced the photo with his fingers. "Do you have a plan?"

"You'll be playing the role of bodyguard. Weasel your way into his heart and when he's not looking shoot him." Tsang's voice was cold and hard. Sirius could help wincing. The moment the expression lit Sirius' face he knew it was a mistake. He prayed Tsang hadn't noticed. "Why the face?"

Damn God. Sirius thought angrily. "Nothing, it seems a shame, to kill somebody so cruelly."

"Killing is cruel if you think differently you're in the wrong business." Tsang snapped.

"No, it just seems like an impersonal way to kill someone."

"Our goal is to make killing as impersonal as possible, you're not supposed to care about your targets, Jesus Sirius, are you going soft on us?"

Sirius whirled to glare at Tsang, sapphire blue eyes flashing. "No, killing is my calling."

"Good, you're the best in the business, Sirius. It'd be a shame to loose you. Now go. The van's waiting."

Sirius left, it occurred to him he didn't even know the target's name. But honestly it didn't matter, it was just another face to join the nameless others. None of them had been hard kills, and none of them taxed his fleeting conscious. He was the angel of death, nobody was safe from him. He didn't cry for anybody else, because nobody would ever cry for him. As his dearest lover once said, "Why cry when angels deserve to die."

"Why cry indeed?" Sirius mused aloud. Of course his lover had cried when they broke anyway.