Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One) (6 page)

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Authors: C. L. Coffey

Tags: #urban fantasy, #angels, #new orleans, #paranormal romance, #young adult, #new adult

BOOK: Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One)
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I darted over and grabbed the guy who had
been sleeping, and yanked him out of the fray. I was a girl who had
to get someone to help her open a jar nine times out of ten; who
had to make several trips when carrying heavy groceries; who had no
upper body strength...

Or, apparently, I used to be.

He went flying. Literally. I tossed him
across the room like he was a tennis ball, his body crashing into
the table he had been asleep on.

I didn’t stop to think about it. The other
three guys hadn’t even noticed that their friend was now lying
unconscious. Don’t get me wrong – Joshua was certainly getting his
own hits in, but he was still outnumbered.

Without thinking of the consequences, I
jumped in, again: two more of the guys quickly disappearing from
the mix. With just Joshua and my would-be rescuer still battling it
out, I jumped between the two of them, my arms outstretched.

It was a stupid move on my part. I got
between my ‘rescuer’ and his fist. And damn, it hurt. He punched my
cheek, just to the side of my right eye and sent me reeling.
Through dancing black spots, I saw the look of horror on his face,
the look of anger on Joshua’s, and then stupidly jumped back in the
middle of it all again.

This time, however, I ducked. I felt the air
move above me as Joshua’s fist flew over my head. Instead of
hitting the college guy, he missed. I had ducked the fist, but gone
head first into Joshua, tackling him to the ground. Just in time
for half a dozen cops to come pouring into the bar.

CHAPTER FOUR

Disappointment

 

 

I was in jail. If it hadn’t been me and I had
been listening to a friend recounting the incident, I would have
been laughing. Instead, I was nursing my cheek, feeling insanely
sorry for myself.

The three guys I had sent flying had been
taken to the hospital. I had no idea how much I had hurt them and
that was playing on my mind. Nobody had mentioned being an angel
meant I was stronger than most men. Not that it would have
mattered. I probably would have done the same thing again anyway,
but it still didn’t stop me feeling guilty.

Joshua was sitting in the same room as me,
though the room had been split into two cells. He was leaning
against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look
at me. To make it worse, I was going to be sporting a really nasty
bruise and it looked like he had escaped any injuries to that
pretty face of his.

The one thing I could be thankful for was
that the other guy was in another room. The cops had decided that
Joshua was probably safer with me than my wannabe rescuer and
didn’t make a split due to sex.

We’d been in there a while. I had no idea
what the protocol was for an angel who had been arrested, but
considering I was supposed to be dead, I had given them a false
name, told them I was a tourist and staying at the first hotel I
could think of. I was wondering how long it would be before they
came back and fingerprinted me when they realized I had been lying
when a figure unlocked the cell.

He looked to be in his late thirties –
maybe even fifteen years older than Joshua – but with the way he
was looking at Joshua, he seemed much older. “Oh, Josh,” he sighed,
causing Joshua to look up at him and roll his eyes. “Is it the
29
th
already?”

The 29
th
? Of August? I had been dead a little longer than Michael
had said – closer to seven months than six. It also dawned on me
that it was the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina.

Joshua pulled himself to his feet and walked
over to the door being held open by the man. “Thanks, Leon,” he
muttered.

“I shouldn’t do this,” Leon sighed. “You’re
lucky no one is pressing charges.” He glanced over at me, as if
finally spotting me and gave Joshua a disappointed look. “And you
dragged someone else into this? Really, Josh?”

Joshua glanced back at me and sighed. “It was
my fault, not hers. Let her go too.”

That was it! No apology, no thank you, no
mention of anything that had happened. He just walked out of the
room, leaving me with Leon.

“I’m sorry, he does this every year,” Leon
told me, regretfully. “He can’t help it. Not that that excuses his
actions,” he added with a sigh. “He’s just lucky that I was on the
early shift. Come on, you can go.”

I followed him out of the cell and into the
reception area, surprised that it had been that easy. Leon paused
by the reception desk and pointed at the phone hanging in the small
lobby. “You need to call someone?”

Yes. But did I want to? “Yeah, I should let
my-” I frowned. “- Brother know where I am.”

“Your brother let you go wandering the city
by yourself?” Leon asked, his lips starting to curl in disgust.

“I don’t think he expected me to get in the
middle of a brawl,” I said, finding myself jumping to Michael’s
defense.

“He still shouldn’t be letting you wander the
city all night by yourself.”

“He didn’t,” I told him. “I left him early
this morning. I didn’t think that people would still be out
drinking,” I insisted.

Leon finally nodded. “You’re lucky,” he
informed me. “Very lucky. If it had been anyone other than Josh, it
could have turned out very differently. I love my city, but when my
daughter is old enough, I am not letting her wander around it by
herself, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” I sighed. He gave me another nod
and left me alone with the phone. I just stared at it. I knew I
needed to call Michael, but the only numbers I knew by heart were
my own and my aunt’s, and I couldn’t call either. I reached for the
directory and thumbed through it. There was a number listed for the
Convent Information Center and I dialed, keeping my fingers
crossed.

“You’ve reached the Old Ursuline Convent.
Unfortunately the premises are no longer open to the public,
however, if you have an inquiry, please hold for an advisor,”
Cupid’s recorded voice floated down the lines. I held. It took
three rings for Cupid to answer. “Good afternoon, this is Kurt, how
may I help you?”

“Kurt?” I asked, snickering. I glanced around
the room. There was one person sat waiting and the odd officer
walking through, so I turned my back to them and dropped my
volume.

“Angel? Is that you?”

“Yeah, I need to speak to Michael.”

“Michael?” he repeated. “What happened in the
six hours since you left here? You were supposed to be training
with me an hour ago.”

He was going to find out anyway. “I may have
gotten arrested,” I admitted. There was a long pause and then a lot
of laughter. “Cupid,” I sighed, irritably. “Just put me through to
Michael.” With any luck, he would have gotten over it by the time I
got back.

The laughter disappeared, followed by a
couple of rings, and then the phone was answered. “Michael.”

“Hi Michael,” I greeted him as cheerfully as
I could muster. “It’s me. Angel,” I added, just in case he knew
another female with an English accent.

“Angel?” he repeated, sounding as surprised
as Cupid had. There was a small pause. “What are you doing on South
Broad Street?”

“I’m at the police department,” I admitted,
wondering how he knew where I was. Did I have some form of GPS
tracking device on me that I didn’t know about? “I may have gotten
arrested.”

There was a very long silence, which had me
twisting the phone cord around my finger nervously. “Stay where you
are.” Then he hung up.

I cradled the phone and walked outside. It
was like walking into a wall of water. I’m not sure where Cupid had
gotten his facts from, but it was really humid. Strangely though,
even as I sat on the low wall in front of the precinct, waiting for
Michael as the sun beat down on me, I wasn’t hot. No doubt some
kind of angel side effect. I tilted my head back, ignoring the
occasional passerby, and closed my eyes. The feel of the sun on my
face was pleasant.

It took about twenty minutes for Michael to
appear. He pulled up in a silver Yukon and stepped out. If I am
honest, it’s not the kind of car I expected an archangel to drive.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it really wasn’t that. He
was in a similar gray suit to the day before, although this time he
had accessorized with a pair of sunglasses.

He walked over, looking as disapproving as
Leon had. His gaze fixed on something on my thigh and I glanced
down. I hadn’t really paid much attention, but my outfit was
covered in scuffs and blood. “It’s not mine,” I quickly told
him.

His eyes travelled higher to meet mine, and
as soon as he saw my face, he pulled the sunglasses off. “Angel,
you have a black eye.”

My hand went instinctively up to my eye. I
was ready to apologize for it and to explain what had happened,
when we were joined by Leon. “You must be the brother,” he said to
Michael.

I bit my lip, ready for everything to come
crumbling down, but without missing a beat, Michael nodded. Even
more astonishingly, he introduced himself to Leon with an English
accent. Not only was it English, but it matched my northern one,
not a dodgy attempt at cockney or English upper class. It took
everything in me not to let my mouth hang open.

“Thank you for looking after her,” Michael
told Leon. “I was worried when she didn’t meet me for lunch.”

“You shouldn’t let her go to bars by herself.
She was lucky this time,” Leon warned him. I wasn’t going to say
anything because, at the end of the day he had released me without
any charges, but please. I was twenty, not fifteen and sneaking
away from my parents.

“Thank you,” Michael told him again, before
turning to me. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

I gave Leon a small smile and hurried to the
car, sinking into the passenger seat. Outside, Michael was shaking
Leon’s hand then he joined me in the car. I waited until we had
pulled away before turning to face him. “That is the best fake,
northern English accent I have ever heard. And angels can drive?” I
asked. I will admit it; I was a little in awe.

Michael let out an exasperated sigh and shot
me a glare. “Angel, what were the rules I gave you?”

“No sex, no drugs, no drinking, and I know I
was in a bar, but I didn’t do any of them.” Unfortunately. “Don’t
tell anyone what I am, and don’t take anyone to the convent,” I
listed, ticking them off on my fingers. “I didn’t do any of them.
Except maybe tell Joshua I was an angel, but you said that was
alright.”

“If you get arrested, you run the risk of
having your fingerprints taken. It may take them a while, but it
wouldn’t have taken them long to realize they needed to check
immigration.” He had a point. Even if it was a few years ago now, I
still remember my fingerprints and retina being scanned as I
entered the country through Philadelphia. “Judging from the
greeting that detective gave me, I suspect you told him you were on
vacation. What happens if you meet him again, a month down the
line?” he glanced at me. “More to the point, you are a minor. That
could have been a lot worse.”

“I didn’t think of that,” I muttered. “I was
a little preoccupied in hoping that they wouldn’t properly ID
me.”

“Every action has a consequence, Angel,” he
warned me. “And you need to be extra careful. You need to think
before you act.”

He was right. Only that’s not me. I act
first, think later, and I also suffer badly from foot-in-mouth
disease. “Why is it alright for Joshua to know, but no one else
can?” I asked him.

Michael gave me a look that said
you’re really
asking me that
? “How
would you feel if people were stopping you all the time, asking for
miracles you couldn’t possibly give them?”

Yet another good point. I sighed and turned
my attention to the world outside the car window. We were almost at
the convent now. “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

“You are forgiven,” Michael told me. He
pulled up outside the back gate and produced a small control from
the door pocket. Seconds later, the giant black gate slid open and
we drove in.

As I had yet to explore the convent properly,
I hadn’t discovered the small fleet of silver GMC Yukons that lined
up in a small parking lot. There had been some serious money spent
here. “Exactly how much does your congregation donate?” I asked
Michael in amazement.

“If you need them, these vehicles are at your
disposal,” he told me, once again avoiding answering my question.
“The keys can be located behind the front desk. Right now, you need
to find Cupid and begin your archery training.”

I slid out of the car and trudged around to
the front of the building, keeping my head down as I passed some of
the model-like angels in the gardens. Judging from the looks I was
getting, word of my morning adventures had already reached them. I
was going to murder Cupid when I found him.

He was behind the front desk, reading today’s
issue of the Times-Picayune. “Don’t tell me I’m in that,” I groaned
as I leaned over to see what he was reading: horoscopes.

“Hardly,” Cupid grinned. He looked up and his
expression turned to one of horror. “Angel, what did you do to that
outfit?”

“I’m fine by the way,” I told him, pointing
at my eye.

“That will be gone by tomorrow,” Cupid
informed me, waving it aside. “But those stains? Blood is
impossible to get out.”

“I’m talking bloodstains with Cupid,” I
muttered. “I’m never going to be able to celebrate Valentine’s Day
again. You need to teach me archery, by the way.”

Cupid looked me up and down. “Girl, there are
more important things I need to teach you first.”

“That’s fine,” I told him, hopping up onto
the counter. I pulled the paper over to me and turned to the front
page. “I’ll read this while you tell Michael.”

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