by C. L. Coffey
“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.
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 29th already?”
The 29th? 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 ju
st 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?”
