Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One)

by C. L. Coffey

  “Maybe,” I agreed, quietly. “Can we get this archery lesson over with? I think I need to see Joshua.”

  “If it is urgent, we can put the lesson on hold,” Cupid told me without missing a beat. “Your charge is much more important.”

  I shook my head. “It can wait.”

  Cupid’s grin rivaled the Cheshire Cat’s. “Great. Well, if you’re only going to play with that,” he pointed at the muffin. “Shall we go?”

  I nodded and followed him to the armory to collect my things. I strapped the quiver on and pulled my gloves on, having stuck them into the waistband of my shorts earlier. I picked the bow up and somehow felt a feeling of peace – strange coming from a weapon, but I didn’t want to think about it. We moved out into the gardens and took our positions.

  * * *

  We had been out there for three hours and I had yet to hit the stupid target. I was becoming more and more frustrated, and I was ready to scream. I was trying to clear my head and ignore the fact that I was still trying to work out what my heartbeat made me; that I had been murdered by a serial killer; that I had virtually watched the live adaptation of said murder; that I had no clue about any of this world I was a part of; that my charge was as freaked out as I was – and that I couldn’t hit a stupid target.

  When the last arrow soared through the air before stabbing the ground three feet short, I shoved the bow at Cupid. “I quit,” I announced. “This is pointless.”

  “It’s not pointless,” Cupid corrected me, setting my bow down.

  “Really?” I asked, my hands on my hips. “I thought angels weren’t allowed to kill people. Isn’t there some rule that states thou shalt not kill?”

  Cupid looked at me in amusement. “Some rule? You know that’s one of the Ten Commandments, right?”

  “Yes,” I told him, rolling my eyes. I wasn’t completely clueless.

  He leaned back against the table with a sigh. “No, we are not supposed to kill. That is why our weapons turn black. But in the natural hierarchy of things, humans are more important than we are, and it might be that you need to stop a fallen angel.”

  “Stupid Unforgivable Sin” I grumbled.

  “It was Lucifer who fell through committing the Unforgivable Sin. The other angels fell from grace by following him,” Cupid explained. “Despite everything, angels aren’t infallible, but if we make the wrong choice, we must live with the consequences and our wings are clipped.”

  “So what you’re saying is that if I make a wrong decision, I could fall?” I asked, hesitantly. It’s no secret I have a habit of using a certain name in vain.

  Cupid nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well how can I be an archangel and not fall if I kill a fallen angel – is that not taking a life? And what happens if I kill a person?” the thought suddenly occurred to me.

  “Why would you kill a person?” Cupid asked me, confused.

  It was clear that they didn’t have many human converts around to pull apart their logic. “If my main job is to protect my charge, and someone is trying to kill him, but I shoot that someone and he dies, what then?”

  “That is why we need to work on your aim,” Cupid told me, calmly. “You never aim to kill – you need to be able to give a person a choice.”

  “And what happens if they make the wrong choice?” I asked him.

  Cupid shook his head. “You can’t kill a human, Angel. Free will may let them make the wrong decision, but it is their own will. We do not rule. We leave it for the other humans to deal with.”

  “That sounds like a cop out,” I muttered.

  “Maybe,” he shrugged. “But those are the rules, and they are the rules you must stick with.”

  “You sound like Michael,” I mumbled under my breath as I turned my attention to collecting the stray arrows. It didn’t take long – they weren’t exactly far away – and when I returned to Cupid, he was packing up. “That’s enough for today. You should go see Joshua.” And then he was gone.

  I thought I was doing quite well – especially considering I hadn’t exactly been a believer, but I was beginning to think I should read up on angel mythology and the Bible, and whatever other books it took so that I didn’t upset my friends. I trudged back inside and set the bow back in its place, sparing a glance at the two swords. The one that was supposed to be black was definitely not black.

  I wasn’t going to say anything and risk offending either archangel, so I opted to return to my room and shower. I was in there for a good fifty minutes, trying to wash my problems away. I was dead – I shouldn’t have problems.

  I pulled a freshly laundered uniform on, this time opting for my own black camisole underneath and ventured downstairs. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but I knew it involved walking and not driving. It was the hottest it had been so far, and the city seemed more washed out and faded than usual. The atmosphere was different as I headed down Bourbon Street. There were fewer people around and they all seemed to be moving with purpose, rather than at a relaxed pace, enjoying the day.

  I could understand why the further away from Canal Street I went. At the far end, where the bars were beginning to fade out into residences, there was a small crowd gathered around an area cordoned off by police tape. I pushed my way through the crowd and spotted Emily’s body, still slumped in the position it had been the night before.

  It occurred to me then, that as I remembered her bright white aura, I couldn’t see it anymore. She looked gray in the shadows of the alley – far too pale. A guy with ‘CSU’ embroidered on his back was busy snapping photographs of her – as was a tourist next to me. “Have some respect,” I told him. He gave me a look that said he couldn’t care less and carried on taking photos. “If they end up on Facebook before her parents are notified, I am taking the police to your room at the Marriott so they can arrest your ass.” I was taking a wild guess at the hotel he was staying at, but judging from his hasty retreat, I was probably right.

  “Is that one of your gifts?” Joshua asked me, seemingly appearing from nowhere.

  I glanced around at the crowd surrounding me, only to find a woman watching me. “If you could kindly keep that to yourself, it would be appreciated,” I mumbled.

  He stepped closer and frowned. “But you don’t have a heartbeat,” he hissed.

  “Actually, I do,” I informed him. “You clearly didn’t feel it.”

  He nodded, quickly accepting my statement. “That makes more sense than the possibility of you walking around without one.”

  “Speaking of walking around, have you found Emily’s killer yet,” I asked, hurriedly changing the subject.

  He gave me a shocked look, and then ducked under the tape, dragging me away from the crowd. “How do you know her name?” he demanded, his hand clamped firmly on my arm.

  “I was with her when she died,” I admitted. “We-”

  “You saw who did this?” he fired at me before I could explain.

  “No,” I replied, slowly. “Her killer had long gone. Although there may have been a witness. I think I scared her.”

  Joshua was studying me with his wonderful blue eyes, his head slightly cocked. Eventually, he pulled a slim notebook from his pocket, followed by a pen. “You had best start at the beginning.”

  So I did, recounting everything that had happened since I had left Maggie’s – minus my thoughts on my lack of heartbeat – to dropping Emily off with Peter – minus my apparent lack of knowledge in the saint department. He didn’t utter a word, although he did provide me with a few interesting facial expressions, as he wrote down his notes. He didn’t even ask me to repeat anything. “And that’s about it,” I finally finished.

  Joshua scanned over his notes and took in a deep breath before exhaling with a low whistle. “Wow,” he muttered. “You either have a really good imagination,” he trailed off.

  “Or I’m telling the truth?” I suggested, watching him carefully.

  His lips twitched. “Some of what you said may agree with the evid
ence we have found so far.”

  “Detective!” an officer called, hurrying over. “We found a bag behind the dumpster with this in it. Picture matches the body.” He handed over a plastic evidence bag, the only item in it was the Louisianan driving license.

  “Emily Montgomery,” Joshua read aloud, shooting me a look. “Thank you,” he told the officer. “I’m going to see if I can find the next of kin.”

  I waited for the officer to walk away before I turned to Joshua. “Do you want a hand?”

  The look he gave me was verging on disgust. “Do you have a morbid fascination or something?”

  “Actually,” I shot back, angrily. “I figured that it might be a hard thing to do by yourself and was offering merely as moral support, but whatever.” I turned on my heel and made to leave, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back.

  “You have a really short temper, you know?”

  “I don’t have a short temper,” I retorted. “I just happen to have run out of patience. There are only so many times I can have my offer of help flung back in my face before I have enough, and that was it. Deal with it yourself – I’m going to tell Michael to find me another charge.”

  I yanked my hand free and took two paces when he said one word that made me stop. “Don’t.”

  I turned back to him impatiently. “Don’t what?”

  “Ask for another charge,” he mumbled. His hands were in his pockets and he was staring at the ground.

  “I beg your pardon?” I asked, unsure I had heard him correctly.

  He sighed and looked up at me. “Don’t ask for another charge.”

  My mouth fell open and flapped around before I could finally utter the word, “Fine.”

  He looked relieved and gave me a small smile. “Come with me?”

  “Where?” I asked him warily.

  He held up the evidence bag. “To find her mother.”

  I was speechless again. Unable to find the words this time, I nodded and followed him past the crowds and through onto Dauphine Street where he had parked his Charger.

  I slipped into the passenger seat, still at a loss for words as he started the car, startling me as the music came blasting out of the stereo. “Sorry,” he muttered after turning down the volume so that the track from a local band I recognized was seeping through at a comfortable background level.

  While he pulled out his phone and made various calls, I stared out the window, lost in my thoughts. I heard enough of the one-sided conversation to ascertain he was trying to find Emily’s next of kin, but I was still trying to replay what had just happened. He didn’t want me to get another charge? What was that supposed to mean? He thought I could help with the case? He was beginning to believe I was telling the truth? He liked having me around?

  On top of that, we were about to tell a mother her daughter had died. Even though I could honestly tell her she was in a better, happier place, how much of a cliché was that? Then there was the fact that even though it was tragic, at least she got some closure. Sarah had never had that.

  “You live in your own head a lot, don’t you?” Joshua asked me, breaking my thoughts by clicking his fingers in front of my face.

  I blinked and focused on the scenery outside my window. He was right. I hadn’t even noticed that we had left the city and now... “We’re driving over the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway?” I asked in surprise, earning a low chuckle from Joshua.

  “For about a mile now.” He leant over and tapped my head. “What’s going on in there?”

  “Nothing,” I muttered, lying. There was too much going on in there. I stared back out the window. I always liked driving over the causeway. There was something therapeutic about the water on both sides, and only having the one route that you could take.

  “You’re doing it again.”

  I turned to Joshua. “Huh?”

  “What’s bothering you?” he asked me, sparing a moment to take his eyes from the road to look at me.

  “No,” I told him, shaking my head. “You don’t get to ask that, and you certainly don’t get the answer. And get your eyes back on the road,” I added. “Where are we going?”

  It was lucky that the road was straight and that there was little traffic on the causeway, considering how long he stared at me for. “Okay,” he nodded, eventually. “I deserve this.” Joshua flicked his attention back to the road. “Madisonville,” he informed me. Then his attention was back on me with that god-annoying sexy smirk of his. “Would it help if I told you, you’re hot?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Not enough. And eyes back on the road.”

  “Ah!” he exclaimed as a mischievous glint appeared in those cobalt eyes. “I see how you want to play this.”

  “I don’t want to play anything,” I corrected him. “I would like you to get across this lake alive though.” I leaned over and physically turned his head to face the road. “Eyes on the road.”

  Joshua turned straight back to me. “I'll make a deal with you. You tell me what’s bothering you, and I'll keep my eyes on the road.”

  “Stop playing!” I cried, switching my attention between Joshua and the causeway. “You’re going to get us killed, or at least you’re going to kill yourself and I'm going to have to find a new vessel – assuming I don’t get fired because you ended up dead.”

  “For someone who can talk a lot, you sure don’t say much,” he noted, all but ignoring what I had just said.

  The car began drifting. “Joshua, you’re going to crash this car.”

  Joshua smirked. “Not if you tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “Fine!” I snapped. He grinned, winked, and turned his attention back to the road, while I scowled and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Oh darlin’, you can sulk and pout all you want, but you’re going to spill, otherwise my eyes are going back on your pretty little face.”

  He was smirking, again. I wanted to grab that wheel and wipe the smirk off his face – but annoyingly, it would have defeated the point. I didn’t want to tell him. I was trying to work my way out of it when his eyes went back on me. “I’m glad we’re going to tell Emily’s mother, okay?” I told him quickly before I could come up with a convincing lie.

  “I think I completely misjudged you,” he muttered, his eyes darkening.

  “Eyes on the road!” I snapped. I waited until he turned his attention back where it should be. “That’s not what I meant,” I told him. “It’s wrong. Having to tell a mother her daughter is dead? Parents shouldn’t outlive their children.”

  “True, but I fail to see where you can find happiness in giving a mother that news,” Joshua said, thankfully keeping his attention on the road.

  “Because my aunt didn’t get that,” I explained. “I died – hell, I was murdered. But there’s never been any body because I’m,” I frowned. What the hell was I? “Undead?” I offered, shaking my head. “Whatever I am, the point is, nobody ever stumbled across my body. I might as well have been murdered and dumped in the bayou to be eaten by the gators. Meanwhile, until the other day, my aunt has had no idea what happened to me. I just went out one night and never came back. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Michael paid her a visit to tell her I had gone on to a better place, but what’s that supposed to mean? If it were me that he’d been to see, I would have thought I’d joined a cult or something…” I trailed off, realizing I had been babbling. When he didn’t say anything, I turned my attention to the water, leaning my head against the glass.

  “I don’t know what happened to my sister,” he told me, suddenly, causing me to turn to him. “She volunteered in a soup kitchen and there was a pregnant woman in there. When Nagin gave the order to evacuate she went to try and find her – she wanted to make sure she was safe. She promised me she would meet us and she didn’t.” My eyes flicked to the steering wheel he was gripping so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, unable to find any words. I was slowly beginning to understand why he was so rel
uctant to accept angels.

  “She was better than me, you know?” he added. “If anyone deserved a guardian angel, it was her.”

  We spent the rest of the journey in silence. To be honest I really had no idea what to say and he seemed lost in his own thoughts so I didn’t want to disturb him. It was dinner time by the time we pulled up outside the house, so I felt confident Emily’s parents would be in. As soon as we stepped out of the car, I could tell that they hadn’t even been to work. The people I assumed to be her mother and father opened the door and rushed out onto their porch.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery?” Joshua questioned, politely.

  “It’s Emily, isn’t it?” Mr. Montgomery asked, quietly, his face pale.

  “Can we go inside?” Joshua asked, motioning to the door.

  I didn’t think Mrs. Montgomery would make it inside before collapsing, but she did. She clung tightly to her husband’s hand, and sat bolt upright with her eyes squeezed closed.

  “I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, but your daughter, Emily, was killed last night.” Joshua told them carefully.

  I jumped as Mrs. Montgomery began wailing. Her husband pulled her to him, allowing her to sob into his chest while he remained surprisingly stoic. “How?”

  “She was stabbed,” Joshua responded, causing Mrs. Montgomery to wail even louder.

  “And have you caught the person who did it?” Mr. Montgomery demanded.

  “Not yet,” Joshua almost sighed. “But we do have some promising leads.”

  “I want to see her.”

  Joshua nodded. “I will arrange for someone to take you to the city.”

  “I am perfectly capable of driving us over there,” Mr. Montgomery announced, rising to his feet.

  I was on mine in an instant. “With all due respect, you don’t want to do that,” I told him, placing my hand on his arm. “It’s not a drive you want to make and your thoughts are going to be anywhere but with the traffic. Let us arrange for someone to take you?”

  I was surprised as he nodded and walked out of the room, leaving us alone with the sobbing wife. I glanced at Joshua who was looking very uncomfortable and sat down beside her. “Patricia?” I muttered, not knowing how I knew her name, but at the same time knowing it was right. “I know it’s hard to hear this, but your daughter, she’s being looked after right now.”