Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One) (5 page)

“And on that note, I need to take Angel to
our fearless leader,” Cupid interjected.

Veronica snorted. “Angel? Okay, resorting to
calling us the help was a little immature, but calling new recruits
by their rank is just pathetic.”

Cupid looked horrified as he stared at
Veronica, but I laughed. “No, I’m Angelina, otherwise known as
Angel, the appropriately named angel. Or, if we’re going to be
picky, the appropriately named Angel Potential.”

“Oh,” Veronica flushed, a bit of color
finally highlighting her pale cheeks. “I’m sorry, it’s just Cupid
is normally quite bitchy and-”

“Pot meet kettle,” Cupid sniped, offering his
hand to Veronica for a handshake. “You’re the only person around
here who is bitchier than me.”

Veronica shrugged and slumped back in her
chair. “Yeah, you have a point. Anyway, mustn’t keep you. You don’t
want to piss off an archangel.”

Having no desire to do just that, I thanked
Veronica as she cleared our plates away and I followed Cupid back
up to Michael’s door. “This is where I leave you,” he said, turning
to me.

“You’re not coming in?” I asked in alarm.

“Nah,” Cupid shook his head. “I have my own
duties. I’ll see you later.”

He disappeared back down the stairs,
leaving me outside Michael’s door. I raised my hand to knock, but
he was already calling me in. “How did you know it was me?” I asked
him, closing the door behind me. He just flashed me a Colgate
advert-worthy smile. I swooned inwardly. Regardless of what I
thought of him, he
was
beautiful.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked me, already
business-like.

“I think I was out cold,” I replied. “Even
though I have just slept for half a year.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully. “That is to be
expected as your vessel acquaints itself with your new
capabilities. The more it becomes accustomed, although you will
still need to rest, you will be able to go for longer periods
before you do.”

“Oh,” I mouthed, unable to think of much more
to say to that.

Michael gave me a reassuring smile. “Good.
Today you will meet your charge.”

I took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Who
is he?”

He clasped his hands together, resting his
elbows on his mahogany desk. He gestured to one of the seats in
front of his desk, waiting until I sat. “First, some ground rules.
Your charge is called Joshua Walsh. He is your responsibility. If
something happens to him, you will be the one held accountable, so
if he needs you, he becomes your priority. No matter what. He is
the only exception to the ‘tell no one what you are’ rule. All the
others still apply.”

Don’t kill him. Got it. Jeeze, anyone would
think the world was going to end. How hard could it be? Someone who
needed an angel’s protection had to be good, so they couldn’t
possibly be that much trouble. And what was I supposed to be
protecting him from? If things got hairy I could just call the
police. Suddenly feeling much more confident, the smile I gave
Michael was much less forced. “So where do I find him?”

Michael cocked his head at me. “You can’t
sense him?”

I don’t know why, but I looked over my
shoulder as though I expected him to be there. Seeing as we were
the only ones in the room, I looked back at Michael and shook my
head. “No. Should I?”

Michael cleared his throat, looking
uncomfortable. “Actually, yes. Try concentrating.”

Unsure what he wanted from me, I closed my
eyes and tried to sense... anything. The only thing I could feel
was Michael’s stare. I opened my eyes and shook my head. “I don’t
think I’m tuned into ‘Radio Joshua’.”

I looked expectantly at Michael, but he was
staring through me, rather than at me. Suddenly he blinked. “He’s
in The Salty Dog.”

Not quite what I expected. I rose to my feet.
“Thank you.”

“You should be able to sense him once you
meet him,” Michael informed me, although he didn’t sound overly
confident. “Make sure you help him in any way you can.”

I stopped and turned back to him. “Help him?”
I thought I was just supposed to be protecting him. “How am I
supposed to do that?”

“You will know when you meet him,” Michael
informed me, returning his attention to some paperwork.

* * *

Most of the bars on Bourbon Street chose to
close in the small hours of the morning, with some reopening to
serve coffee and breakfast. The Salty Dog was one of the few that
remained open twenty four hours a day. Of the handful of times I
had been in there, I had never been in a sober state and was always
a little worse for wear.

As I entered now, I wasn’t at all surprised
that the only thing that was remotely familiar was the neon green
dog behind the bar. The rest of the worn, wooden interior looked
like most of the bars on the street. The bartender was a bored
looking guy keeping himself busy drying various shaped glasses. It
was about 8am and there were only a few people in there, all
falling into the ‘still out drinking’ category.

There were four college guys near the door,
all wearing LSU football shirts, one with his head on the table –
either asleep or passed out – with an upside down wine glass
balanced on his head. My heart sank when one of them whistled at
me. There was no way I was in the mood for dealing with college
guys, much less drunk ones and I secretly hoped Joshua wasn’t one
of them.

And then I sensed him.

He was sat in the back, his head bent,
nursing a half full bottle of Budweiser. Despite the bored look the
bartender wore, he hadn’t left the confines of the bar to collect
the half dozen or so empty bottles that surrounded Joshua on the
table.

As if he sensed me watching him, Joshua
looked up. My breath caught in my throat. If I thought Michael was
gorgeous, it didn’t even begin to compare to this guy. Whereas
Michael looked like he had been sculptured into perfection, Joshua
was gorgeous
because
of the
slight imperfections. His nose was ever so slightly crooked and he
had a small scar just above his right eyebrow. Even his five
o’clock shadow made him look a little rugged. I pulled my eyes away
from him just long enough to stare at the ceiling and mutter, “I
hate you a tiny little bit right now.”

When I dropped my gaze back to him, I
discovered he was still looking at me through his long black
eyelashes. His eyes were such a clear blue; it was like staring at
the sky outside. His hair was as dark as his lashes, looking almost
like it had a blue hint to it in the dim light. Stray locks of his
hair that were no longer brushed to the side, were dangling in his
eyes.

As one of his eyebrows arched up
questioningly, it dawned on me that I was just standing there,
gawking. I tucked my hair nervously behind my ear and hurried over.
“Joshua Walsh?”

“Who wants to know?” he asked, looking up at
me through hooded eyes.

“I’m Angel,” I offered. With one look he was
throwing me off balance and it was really disconcerting. I’m not
scared of going up to guys and talking to them, but this one had
the geese back in my stomach.

“Yes. Yes you are,” he agreed, smiling. He
pointed to the seat opposite.

I slid into the seat, only just making it
graceful before my legs gave out on me. “No,” I told him, clearing
my throat. “My
name
is Angel.”
I frowned. “Although I suppose you’re technically
correct.”

“It may be the beer, but you’re not making
any sense.” He picked up his bottle and used it to point at me,
winking as he did so. “It’s alright though, because you’re
hot.”

I tucked my hair back behind my ear again,
then, conscious that I had just done that, dropped my hands into my
lap. Of course he noticed and smirked. I took the opportunity to
clear my throat again. “Let me start again. You’re hot.” My eyes
bulged as I realized what I had said. “No, I mean, I’m hot.”

I froze, mortified. As he started smirking, I
did what any self-respecting woman would do. I let my head drop to
the table with a bang which was sure to leave a red mark. I would
have gladly had the floor open and swallow me whole, even if at
this point, there was a strong possibility there would be something
under there.

“You know, I’m going to be honest,” he
drawled. I raised my head just enough to look at him. “That’s the
most entertaining pick up line I’ve ever had.”

My head shot upright as I began furiously
shaking it. “I’m not hitting on you!”

He leaned forward. “It’s alright,” he told me
in a stage whisper. “Because you’re hot. And so is that accent.
Where are you from?”

“England,” I admitted, knowing full well my
face was quickly turning an interesting shade of pink. “But I live
in New Orleans now.”

He leaned forward again, this time propping
his head up with his hand, and smiled. “I think I could listen to
you talk all day.”

“I think you should probably go to bed and
get some sleep,” I retorted.

The smirk was back. “You going to come back
with me?”

“No,” I told him, trying my hardest to appear
unaffected by his suggestion.

The smirk grew into a grin. “You’re totally
lying,” he informed me. “You think I’m hot.”

“I think you’re drunk,” I informed him. And
hot, yes. But there was no way I was going to tell him. Again.

He shrugged, the grin never slipping from his
face. “But that doesn’t stop you from thinking I’m hot. I can be
both.”

“Cocky much?” I asked him, rolling my
eyes.

He pulled himself back and allowed himself to
lean back into his seat. “Well, if you’re not hitting on me, why
are you here?”

“Because apparently, somebody upstairs has
got a twisted sense of humor,” I told him, the statement verging on
a growl. I took a deep breath and forced the growing resentment
from me. “I’m going to start over. My name is Angelina, or Angel,
but I am also your Guardian Angel.”

Joshua rose to his feet, the motion
scattering the empty bottles across the table. “And that’s where
your chat up line failed, darlin’, because there are no such things
as angels.” He downed what was left in the bottle and stalked over
to the bar.

I swallowed nervously, keeping my stare on
the now vacant seat across from me. Quickly, I ran the last few
minutes through my head again. For the life of me, I couldn’t work
out what I had said to warrant that reaction – there had been cold
anger in his eyes. I took a deep breath and turned to watch
him.

He had his back angled to me as he waited for
the bartender to get him a fresh beer. Through his black dress
shirt, I could tell he was still angry by the way his muscles were
tensed. My gaze dropped lower to his jeans. I don’t think they were
designer, but the way that dark denim hugged his backside made me
want to head over there and grab it.

But no, even if the guy wasn’t an ass, and
even though he was tall, dark, and moody – and completely my type –
I was allowed to do nothing more than stare, and maybe dream.
Surely that one wasn’t forbidden?

I pushed the X-rated images that were
beginning to form in my head, back into the recesses of my mind. So
far, my introduction hadn’t gone as planned. Well, if at first you
don’t succeed... I got up and moved over to him, taking my place
next to him at the bar. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I didn’t mean
to upset you.”

He took a long drink of his beer, nearly
consuming it all, before he slammed it on the bar to look at me. My
breath caught in my throat again as his blue orbs smouldered.
Bedroom eyes. Joshua was looking at me with freaking bedroom eyes.
He took a step toward me and I made myself take a step back. He
kept coming at me and I kept walking backwards away from him, until
I hit the wall. Before I could duck out of the way, his hands were
either side of my head.

With these shoes on, I had to be at least an
inch taller than six foot, and he still managed to stare down at me
as he closed the gap between us. I was frozen to the spot. I didn’t
think I could move even if I wanted to – and I didn’t know if I
wanted to.

He raised one of his hands, using it to cup
my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek as he stared at my
lips. His eyes flickered up to meet mine, peering at me through his
eyelashes. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he told me with a throaty
whisper.

His lips were practically on mine. I could
feel the warmth of his breath, almost taste the beer on him, when I
finally snapped out of it. This wasn’t good. Well, it could have
been good, but it wasn’t right. I had no idea how far the rule of
‘no sex’ went, but until I did, I was not about to face the wrath
of an archangel.

At the last minute, I turned my head,
fighting against the hand which was holding me in place. His lips
caught the very edge of my mouth. They were much softer than I
thought they would be, the slight scratch of his stubble tickling
my skin.

He pulled away a fraction, smirking. “You’re
playing hard to get?”

Before I could even begin to explain, he was
suddenly yanked away from me. “Is this jerk botherin’ ya?” It was
one of the college guys, his buddies, including the one who had
been asleep, flanking him.

“Not really,” I quickly told the guy. He
looked like he could bench-press an alligator, and his friends
looked like they worked out too.

Joshua righted himself from where the guy had
tossed him, and before I knew what was happening, Joshua had
punched him. The college guy stumbled backwards a couple of steps,
and then a full-on brawl ensued. I watched in horror as the other
three guys decided to get in on the action.

“Oh, my God! Stop it!” I yelled, my cries
falling on deaf ears. The bartender was already on the phone, but
Joshua could have been really hurt by the time the cops
arrived.