A/N: This is has been beta read all the chapters are being replaced. Thank you…sorry for the confusion before. 3 ME

The darkness in my mind could not be as easily described as my appearance or my constantly changing emotions. I was shocked, appealed even at the level of acceptance from those who in other situations would have been considered my peers.

My name, though it is unimportant, is Angela Roza Belikov. Yes, before you jump at it, my dad's name is Dmitri Belikov. Now you're probably assuming that Rosemarie Hathaway is my mom. Well, you know what they say about people who assume. It makes an ass out of you. My mother is of no consequence; she was a mere Moroi girl that wanted sex from the amazing Dmitri Belikov, got pregnant, and, well, didn't want me.

I grew up in Russia with my grandmother and aunts, but Dad refused to let me stay there. He sent me to the Russian Academy to study to be a guardian at three. He visited only to test me. When I was old enough he started training me himself.

I'm seventeen now and just got transferred the the American Academy in Montana, Dad's with me to finish my training 'till graduation. Only problem is, my mentor's name is Guardian Hathaway, and she hates me and my father.

We were driving, something I hated doing with my father and his stupid western music. It didn't make sense for him to take me out of my school just so that I could be where he was transferred. I was more than happy to do my field experience back in Russia with my friends. I guess I understood his need to see me graduate, but here I doubted my ability to graduate top of the class.

As we arrived to the gates, I opened my mouth to complain but I knew the look on his face. This would just be harder for him. I could tell that, once upon a time, he had loved this guardian Hathaway woman and that he was her mentor. I knew bits and pieces of what I could get out from Grandmamma but nothing seemed to make sense. As he put it in park we stood in front of the Academy doors his back to the doors and mine to the Mustang GT I insisted he rent.

"Angela remember what I told you about Guardian Hathaway, she's a bit of a hard ass sometimes. She will hate you.." he paused looking at my face as I tried to tell him she was right behind him.

"Guardian Belikov, what a surprise! I was only expecting one Belikov, this must be your daughter," I could tell she knew how to mask her anger much like dad could but her loathing for him shined through that.

"Roza please I did what I ha..." he didn't even finish his sentence before a slapping sound was heard and a red mark formed on his face.

"You may have been my mentor Belikov but that doesn't give you any right to call me that anymore. Younger Belikov, start running. We won't be sparring today. Two miles. Run now!"

I must have snickered out loud. I knew she and my Dad were alike in training, as she was his pupil, but two miles? That was a cake walk for me and for anyone with the pleasure of training with my Dad.

I looked at her as if she was mental, "That's it? Dad, honestly, you did a bad job if you taught her two miles was a punishment," I laughed and started running full speed.

While I was running I saw something that peaked my interest, Dad and this woman sparring, trying to see who was the better. Then I saw it. The tattoos on her neck. I had never seen so many; there must have been at least a hundred.

Then I began to understand why Dad had left her when he did. The way I see it she was seventeen when he was already twenty-four. While I watched them spar I saw Dads mask drop like it used to when we were sparing. That's when I heard her, "Dimika."

My heart stopped. Did she just… "Dad?"

They stopped I guess they hadn't realized I was back but the masks went right back up the minute they realized.

"Let's go get you signed up Angela," My dad said coldly. I had never heard him talk with such lack of emotion around me.

"Dad?" I was searching for any sign of emotion but it was gone all of it and this thing was going to pay for it.

I guess you could say I am a tad bit rebellious. Okay that might be a tiny exaggeration; I am everything my father wasn't. I am a rebellious teenager with the inability to bite my tongue, "Who the hell do you think you are? You act as if what my father did actually hurt you! PLEASE! Those tattoos on your neck show he made you everything you are!"