Angel in Crisis

by C. L. Coffey

  “One hundred and sixty-three.” The mug fell from my hands, sending coffee all down myself. I launched into a stream of expletives and both Ty and I reached for the napkins, trying to clear the coffee up. “Sorry,” Ty muttered.

  I glanced around, and seeing that we had attracted the attention of just about everyone in the room. I grabbed Ty’s hand and led him outside. I ducked into a quiet alcove and whirled around to stare at him. “How many?” I demanded.

  “One hundred and sixty-three, now,” he repeated.

  “One hundred… How many Fallen are there?”

  “About forty,” he admitted.

  I could feel the blood rushing from my head, and I lowered myself to the sidewalk, ignoring the looks of the occasional passerby as I stared wide-eyed at Ty. “You’re telling me there’s the best part of two hundred fallen angels and nephilim in New Orleans?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  Ty glanced up and down the street, nervously. Finally, he lowered himself next to me. “New Orleans has less than four hundred thousand people living here. It’s not that many, really. And there were only two high-ranking Fallen. And they cover a lot of ages.”

  “That’s not helping,” I muttered. More than two hundred? What exactly had the angels in Michael’s House been doing here for the past year? I was absolutely, positively, certain that none of them had the vaguest of ideas of the numbers we were dealing with. “There’s no way it is angels killing the nephilim,” I assured Ty. “If they had any inkling at all, there would be higher ranking angels patrolling the streets.”

  “Something is killing us,” Ty said, quietly. “And believe me when I say, I wouldn’t have come to you if I wasn’t worried.”

  As I stared into his gray eyes, I knew he was telling the truth. “I don’t know how much I can help,” I admitted. “I doubt the other angels will help: we’ve got enough to focus on cleaning up that convent. Besides, just because they’re not out there actively hunting you doesn’t mean they’re going to be sympathetic. You’re half-Fallen.”

  “And I’m half-human,” Ty pointed out. “I’m doing my best to stay out of my father’s business, and I’m not the only nephilim with the same opinion.”

  “Why are there so many here?” I asked him.

  Ty shrugged. “The Fallen are loyal to each other and there’s not many others that my dad would trust to work in his bars.”

  My mouth fell open. “Bee’s?”

  “About half of the workforce are human.”

  I leaned my head back against the wall behind me and stared up at the clear blue skies. “I’m going to do what I can, but I need you to trust me.”

  “I already do. I told you this, didn’t I?” Ty asked.

  I glanced over him. “I want the names of all the nephilim in New Orleans.”

  * * *

  I left Ty there, mumbling that he would do what he could. I didn’t expect him to hand the list over, but it would be helpful. If we could get some names, I could see about getting someone to follow them, try to find out who was killing them, and see if they themselves were up to no good… Or at least, that was my intention. The truth was there were nowhere near enough angels in the convent to be able to do this. That would be me – and there was only one of me. Joshua would be the best person to talk to. Not that I wanted him drawn into this whole angelic mess, but he might have some idea of how to tackle it.

  I was walking back to the convent when a car slowed down beside me. “Excuse me!” the driver called. I spared a glance over my shoulder. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he answered his own question before I could. “Or do you want me to drive past again?”

  I stopped and turned, hands on my hips. As my eyebrow shot up in a question, the car stopped beside me. “Are you insane?”

  There was a long pause. “Sorry, you’re so beautiful; you made me forget what I was going to say.”

  I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the car door as I leaned in, sniffing. “Joshua, are you drunk?”

  “Drunk on you?” he offered, with the cheesiest grin.

  I laughed, opening the door and getting in. I had barely shut the door before Joshua had leaned over to claim my lips with his own, and was kissing me earnestly. When we eventually broke apart, there was a massive smile on my face. “Don’t take this as me complaining, but what’s going on with you?”

  “Last night, in bed, I was thinking of you – of us…” When I couldn’t stop myself from smirking, he leaned over and swiped at my shoulder. “Behave,” he said, stealing my line. “I realized that with you being an angel and the two of us fighting evil.” Once again, my expression – this time unimpressed – caused him to swipe at my arm again. “The two of us,” he repeated firmly. “Relationships are about the good and the bad.”

  “You know how I feel about it,” I grumbled.

  “I do, and I’m choosing to ignore it,” he responded, with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

  I frowned. “You do realize that the only reason we met was because I’m supposed to protect you. Having you at my side while I’m battling evil is hardly a dazzling example of keeping you safe.”

  “The way I figure it is, that if you were the danger, you wouldn’t have been sent to me,” he shrugged. “But as I was saying, fighting evil is hardly the normal dating activities of a couple.” I opened my mouth to retort, but his hand shot out and gently pinched my lips together. “You can have your turn after.”

  “Fine,” I conceded, my words coming out muffled.

  Joshua released my lips and waited until I gestured that he should continue. “I’m not expecting normal with you, at least not while we have to work out what to do with Lucifer, but that doesn’t mean we have to dwell on that. You are beautiful, and your smile just lights you up. And yet, you don’t smile enough… So as I was saying, last night, when I was thinking of you, I realized I needed to make you smile more.”

  “And you’re going to accomplish that with cheesy chat-up lines?” I asked.

  “Especially with cheesy chat-up lines,” he assured me. “And dates, and mini-dates.”

  “There’s a difference?” I asked, unable to keep the smile returning from my face.

  “There is,” he confirmed, settling back into his seat. He pulled the car away, and started navigating around the one-way streets of the Quarter. “For example, right now, seeing as I have to be at work in a couple of hours, we’re going to fit in a mini-date. In a couple of weekends, I plan on taking you out for a real date.”

  The thought sent warm and fuzzy feelings radiating through me – a wonderful change to the thrum of pain I was used to. “So where are we going this early in the morning?”

  “Breakfast,” Joshua beamed as my stomach grumbled in appreciation. “But there’s one condition with these dates, darlin’,” he said, glancing over at me. “No shop talk: We spend enough time together talking about fallen angels or whatever homicide I’m working on.”

  That sounded reasonable enough to me.

  * * *

  Joshua’s idea of breakfast was a little place on the bank of the Mississippi. I managed to refrain from commenting on Joshua’s voice. The bruises were all but gone from where Mama Laveau had choked him, but there was still a low growl to his tone and I wasn’t sure it was going anywhere soon. We even managed to avoid any talk of angels… Until the generous helping of sweet-potato pecan waffles we were sharing was placed in front of us. “What were you doing out so early?” Joshua asked, pushing the plate more towards me. Fatal mistake: I was hungry.

  “Ty asked me to see him,” I explained, then promptly loaded my fork with waffle. They were warm, crispy, and had a hint of cinnamon to them.

  “The nephilim?” Joshua asked. He looked surprised, but I couldn’t tell if it was from meeting with Ty, or from the amount of waffles I’d demolished already. He opened his mouth, ready to ask something, and then promptly shook his head. “This falls under ‘shop talk’.” He frowned. “Read any
good books, recently?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t read much – not even when school had called for it – but I was happy to wait until after breakfast to tell Joshua about my conversation with Ty. “I read an interesting article in the paper yesterday. Apparently, scientists think that Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer had a red nose because he had a parasitic infection.”

  Joshua stared at me, then slowly shook his head, sighing. “I don’t know where to start with that. Just tell me what happened with Ty.”

  “You’re the one who wanted to talk about anything other than fallen angels,” I shrugged. “And it was an interesting article about Christmas. Did you know, Rudolph was created by a department store as a marketing ploy and was nearly called Reginald?”

  “Cute as you are for getting interested in these useless facts, it’s not Christmas,” Joshua pointed out.

  “You won’t be saying that when I know all the answers in the Christmas Trivia quiz,” I told him.

  “Well, when we go to this theoretical Christmas quiz and you get all the answers correct, you can keep all the theoretical winnings. Until then, can we turn the subject back to Tyrone Hamilton?” he requested.

  “I didn’t realize I was dating such a Scrooge,” I sighed, dramatically. I took a few more mouthfuls of the waffles – while they were still warm – with Joshua waiting patiently for me, and then settled back. “You’re not going to like it.” He waved his hand, indicating that I should continue. “Ty thinks the angels are hunting down and killing the nephilim in the city, and that’s not even the most disturbing part of the conversation we had. Did you know there are around forty fallen angels in New Orleans?”

  A piece of waffle fell off Joshua’s fork. “How many?”

  “And another hundred and sixty something nephilim.” Joshua swore. “I told you: you weren’t going to like it. It can wait until after our date,” I shrugged. “I doubt they’re going anywhere.”

  “Okay, an addendum to the ‘no shop talk’ rule: if it’s important, we can discuss it.”

  “How do we decide if it’s important?” I asked him.

  Joshua pursed his lips. “Darlin’, this is important.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s that important, that we should head into the precinct and tell Leon at the same time.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  A New Lieutenant in Town

  There was a strange atmosphere at the precinct that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Unease, perhaps? There seemed to be a lot more people there than I had ever seen previously, and most were acting strangely: either lurking in corridors and staring suspiciously at anyone who walked past, or keeping their heads down and refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. The remainder had a look of triumph in their eyes.

  I leaned in to Joshua. “What is up with everyone?” I asked in a low voice. “And where are we going?” I added as we walked straight past the room which housed the homicide detectives.

  Joshua glanced over at me, a grin quickly replacing a frown. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Am I going to like this one?”

  “Oh yes,” Joshua beamed. He led me up the stairs, right to Asmodeus’ office. Or what was once his office. Someone was busy scratching off the gold lettering of his name from the frosted glass. The man stepped out of the way for Joshua to knock on the door.

  Joshua didn’t wait for a response, leading me in. “Joshua!” I hissed.

  “It’s okay. I had the room swept.”

  As Joshua closed the door behind us both, I stood frozen on the edge of the room, gaping at the man who sat behind the desk. “Leon?”

  Leon looked to Joshua, cocking his head. “You didn’t tell her?”

  Joshua shrugged. “I figured this was your surprise to reveal.”

  “It is safe to come in,” Leon assured me. “The first thing I did was have the guys sweep the rooms for traps.”

  I blinked several times. “You told them about traps?”

  “I had them sweeping for bugs, but I made them use metal detectors at the same time,” he explained, gesturing to the seats in front of the large oak desk. “I ignored them when they tried to insist that was not how someone swept a room.”

  “Are you the new lieutenant?” I asked. “You were only a detective. Surely you can’t jump that many ranks?” My words were much blunter that I wanted, but I was confused.

  “I passed my sergeant’s exam some time ago,” Leon explained.

  I took a couple of steps further into the room. “So you’re a sergeant?” I asked as I looked dubiously around the office.

  Leon nodded. “The Captain has me heading up a new taskforce: we’re investigating Asmodeus’ disappearance and any corruption he was involved in.”

  My mouth fell open. “But Asmodeus is de-”

  In two quick strides, Joshua has joined my side and clamped a hand over my mouth. “Shhh!” he hissed, nodding his head towards the shadow on the other side of the door. For a few moments, the only sound was the tool scraping across the glass. “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Joshua muttered, removing his hand.

  Leon stepped out from behind the desk and strode over to the door. He opened it, taking care not to startle the man on the other side. “Clive, would you mind giving me an hour?” I didn’t hear his response, but the man disappeared. “That’s better,” Leon muttered, closing the door.

  I moved over to the window, glancing out at the sun-bleached parking lot. “Congratulations,” I said, turning back to the other two. “I probably should have said that first.”

  “Thank you,” Leon responded, although his expression remained serious. “But you were right to question. Things are, as Joshua said, complicated.”

  “It has only been a week,” I sighed, perching on the window ledge and leaning back.

  “We’ve moved quickly,” Joshua shrugged. “We had to.”

  Leon nodded his agreement. “We weren’t sure who we could trust.” He frowned. “This might be better if Cupid was here: we can explain it to both of you and let you know what we’re planning on doing from our side.”

  I frowned. Not at the mention of Cupid, but rather at the fact they were so enthusiastic at being involved. “Cupid?” I called.

  Cupid’s voice came loud and clear. “Everything okay?”

  “Can you join us at the police precinct? We’re in-” Before I could give Cupid the details, Cupid appeared in front of me, making all three of us jump. He was still wearing the, now disheveled, suit he had been wearing last night. “Have you been to sleep?”

  “I don’t require sleep,” he responded before looking from Joshua to Leon. “Is everything okay?” he asked them before I could press him further: sure, angels didn’t need sleep (I was the anomaly in that respect), but he looked exhausted.

  Leon thought so too. “We have developments to share with you, but if this isn't a good time, we can do this later.”

  Cupid waved his hand dismissively. “Now is fine. What do you need to tell me?”

  “Leon was made sergeant,” I started.

  “He became Lieutenant,” Joshua declared, giving his partner a proud grin.

  “But you said-”

  Leon held his hand up. “I approached the Captain and told him that Asmodeus hadn’t been into work, and when I’d traced his car and his phone, both had been located at the Port of New Orleans. I told him I suspected Asmodeus had been involved and that there was a strong possibility that the corruption had leaked into the precinct.” He folded his arms. “The Captain decided I should lead a taskforce to investigate it. He’s also appointing me as an interim Lieutenant until we can confirm what’s happened to Asmodeus.”

  “But we know what’s happened to Asmodeus,” I pointed out, glancing over at the door. I lowered my voice. “He’s dead. More than that; he was obliterated.”

  “Right now, this city is going into a panic, thinking terrorists are attacking. We all know it’s because of angels and the Fallen battling it out, but we can’t say anything about that,” Leon con
tinued. “If we can prove that Asmodeus was corrupt, then maybe we can get the city to calm down without having to reveal anything to anyone.”

  “It’s not like he wasn’t behind it anyway,” Joshua shrugged.

  Cupid and I shared a look. “It would help with our publicity problem,” I offered.

  Cupid let out a long breath, rubbing a hand wearily over his face. “It would, but the problem lies in the fact you will have to investigate this precinct. Asmodeus was a Prince of Darkness – one who has been in this city for some time. We have no idea of knowing just how much the Fallen have infiltrated the police department. I don’t want you putting yourselves in danger: how do you know your Captain isn’t one of the Fallen?”

  Leon held up his left hand, and it took a moment for me to realize he was showing an engagement ring. “Is that a woman’s engagement ring?” I asked, staring in confusion. Not only did the ring sport a small diamond which twinkled in the sunlight, but he was also wearing it so the stone was facing the same side as his palm.

  “The band is platinum,” Leon patiently explained.

  Well, that made sense. The rest of it didn’t. “Are you marrying the Captain?”

  “If the easiest way to see if someone is being possessed by the Fallen is by seeing how they react when they are touched by platinum, then this is the most discreet way to check that we could think of. If there is some form of reaction, I can easily blame it on the diamond catching on them.” Leon continued. “Afterwards, I can contact one of you and allow you to perform an exorcism like you did with me.”

  “Your plan is to shake the hand of every police officer in New Orleans?” Cupid asked, worry lines wrinkling his forehead. “That’s too dangerous.”

  “I don’t plan on lining them all up and working down the line,” Leon pointed out. “And it can be as subtle as clapping them on the back, or using them to steady myself.”