Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One)

by C. L. Coffey

  “I knew it wasn’t right,” he told me. “But she was tired of never celebrating her friend’s birthdays with them, and I knew she would be sensible and not drink. I just didn’t think...” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

  “It’s not your fault,” I told him, firmly.

  Dale shook his head. “I could have stopped her. I should have stopped her. Bourbon Street is full of evil sinners.”

  “Not everybody who goes out down Bourbon Street does so with the intention of preying on innocent girls and killing them, Dale. I’m not saying they’re saints by any stretch of the imagination, but they’re not all evil. If you truly thought that, you would have stopped her.” Seeing that what I was saying really wasn’t working, I changed tactics. “I see why you never said anything, but why didn’t her friends?”

  Dale shrugged. “I don’t think they knew she was coming. We all thought she was going to Bible study. She wanted to surprise them.”

  “Angel?” Joshua called from the doorway, Mr. Richmond stood behind him, fuming. “It’s time to go.”

  I nodded and followed him from the house, wincing as the door slammed behind us. “What the hell did you say to him?” I asked as we slipped into the car.

  “I may have asked if there was a chance that Coleen had been somewhere in the Quarter. He flipped and informed me that his daughter was a good girl and would never have associated with anyone who frequented Bourbon Street and that if I was going to come at him with any more slanderous accusations, he would be putting in an official complaint to my lieutenant.”

  I burst out laughing and then, trying to stop, ended up snorting in a very unladylike manner.

  “Laugh it up,” he grumbled, swinging the car around.

  “I’m not laughing at you - I’m laughing at Mr. Richmond. He has no clue about his daughter,” I told him. “She wasn’t going to Bible study the night she was killed. She was partying it up on Bourbon Street. Although, to be fair, I don’t think she was out to get drunk.”

  “How on Earth did you find that out?” Joshua demanded, staring at me in surprise.

  “Oh, are you jealous that I’m a better detective than you?” I couldn’t help but ask him, talking to him like I was cooing a baby.

  In response, Joshua rolled his eyes at me. “Now who’s the one who needs to act their age?”

  I laughed. “I just asked the brother. I think that he hasn’t told anyone else and the guilt was eating him up. That, and I’m not as intimidating as you.”

  The smirk was back before I could blink. “You think I’m intimidating?”

  I leaned over and slapped at his arm. “Quit it.”

  “Ow,” he moaned, glaring at me. “Will you quit doing that?”

  “What next?” I asked him, ignoring his complaints. If he was going to continue doing that flirty smirk thing, then I had no option but to hit him.

  “You tell me,” he shrugged. “You seem to be doing well on the information gathering.”

  I shook my head. “Nope, I’m not the detective. I don’t have a clue.”

  There was a moment’s pause as we stopped at a four-way stop sign and waited for the other traffic to move before we could, but then he spoke. “What do you remember?”

  “Not much,” I shrugged. “There were one too many hand grenades involved.”

  He tapped out a rhythm on the steering wheel, before crossing the traffic to pull into an empty school parking lot. “What are we doing?” I asked him, suspiciously as he slipped the car into park.

  Wordlessly, he turned in his seat, unclipping his belt and then did the same to mine. I frowned, turning to watch the clip automatically wind itself in. “Josh-” I turned back and stopped suddenly. His face was inches from mine as he leaned across my seat. “What are you doing?” I whispered, my throat suddenly dry.

  He didn’t blink, keeping his eyes on me, and then I was aware that the gap between us was growing bigger – the chair back was slowly dropping backwards. “Joshua!” I yelped, reaching for the door handle.

  The hand that had been on the button to recline my seat was quickly on mine. “Will you relax?” he asked me. “Do you really think I’m going to do what you think I’m going to do, right here, in the middle of a parking lot? Really?”

  I could feel my face heating up – he was still uncomfortably close, and yes, I had thought he was going to do something he shouldn’t. “No!” I lied, my voice squeaking.

  “Of course not,” he smirked, settling back into his seat, though still facing me. “Just lie back and shut your eyes.”

  My mouth fell open as I crossed my arms. “No,” I told him again.

  Joshua rolled his eyes. “Seriously, our first time is not going to be in this car.”

  This time I threw bulging eyes in with the open mouth. “There isn’t going to be a first time, period,” I informed him, even though I desperately wanted to know exactly what he had in mind when we did sleep together. Hypothetically speaking, of course.

  “Of course not,” he repeated himself in the same tone which clearly read – you keep telling yourself that. “However, until then, will you just shut up, lie back, and close your eyes?”

  I pulled a face but did as he asked, and settled back into the leather seats. “Now what?” I asked, my eyes closed.

  “Think about the night you died-”

  “I thought you didn’t believe I was dead,” I muttered, opening my eyes.

  “Angel, shut up,” he ordered. I shot him a scathing look, but shut my eyes again.

  “It was Mardi Gras,” I sighed.

  I had gotten back from the nail salon, deciding at the last minute to have a manicure and deep cherry red nail varnish. I had gone straight to my bathroom to apply the red hair dye, watched a full episode of The Vampire Diaries instead of half, when I should have rinsed the dye from my hair, and as a result, the color was insanely vibrant.

  It had then taken two hours in front of the mirror, with enough hairspray for me to be concerned enough to make sure I didn’t go within twenty feet of a naked flame. Finally, the hair was perfectly straight and flicked out at every layer. I had put my makeup on – smoky eyes and long false eyelashes. The tags had been pulled off my new red underwear and I had just slipped on the short, strapless cherry red dress. Just in case my aunt caught me on the way out, I pulled on a pair of jeans.

  After making sure the devil horns were placed right, I put my heeled Mary Jane’s on and hurried downstairs where my friends were waiting in the car. We headed straight to the Quarter, and I quickly shed the jeans. Hannah was the only one who wasn’t drinking as she was driving, but as soon as we parked, she took the bottle of Southern Comfort from Nina’s hand and consumed half the bottle.

  We started off in the bars closest to Canal Street, but as the night grew later, and the bars grew busier, we worked our way further down the street. I think, three or four bars later, I had decided that I was going to quit college and I was going to disappear around the world. Nina had met up with her boyfriend not long after that and gone home with him.

  I don’t know what happened to Hannah and Rachel. I remember coming out of the Dead Donkey and hearing the music spilling out of a bar further down the street. By that time, I should have stopped drinking, but I vaguely remember going in and buying another drink.

  “The next thing I remember is Michael asking if I wanted eternal life or eternal happiness,” I sighed. My eyes flickered open and I stared at the ceiling until I had to look at Joshua and work out why he hadn’t said anything. He was staring at my abdomen, and it took me a moment to realize my shirt had ridden up just enough for the bottom tip of one of my silvery scars to be poking out. Biting my lip, I pulled the top up enough for all of them to be visible. “I don’t remember getting stabbed,” I murmured, staring at the thin lines.

  With his eyes still on the scars, Joshua leaned over tracing his fingers over them. “How long were you lying there?” he asked, quietly.

  “I don’t know,” I tol
d him. “Honestly, the last thing I remember is leaving the Dead Donkey and then it’s Michael. I don’t know what my cause of death was.” I frowned. “Well, obviously, I was stabbed, and I’m guessing I had some form of internal bleeding going on, but I don’t know what organ was damaged. I know it doesn’t help the case, but I don’t think I want to remember what happened,” I admitted.

  Joshua pulled his hand away and raked it through his hair. “Maybe you’re right,” he sighed. Then, he turned to me and smirked. “So, what are you doing later?”

  “Huh?” I pulled my top back down and gave him a puzzled look.

  “Are you doing anything later?” he asked me.

  “Washing my hair,” I told him, dryly.

  “And after that?”

  “Drying it,” I informed him. I glanced down by my side, locating the recliner button and set my chair upwards.

  “Cute,” he told me. “Well, once you’ve done that, you can come out and join me down Bourbon Street.”

  “Why?” I asked, suspiciously.

  “You really need to relax,” he told me, slipping the car into gear and pulling back out onto the road. “And no, that’s not why I want you to come out. We’re going to head to the Dead Donkey and see if we can work out where you went next – see if that helps.” He gave me a sideways glance. “A devil called Angel?” he asked, his eyebrows quirking upwards.

  “And that is less ridiculous than an angel called Angel?” I sighed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  True Colors

  After returning to the precinct to collect the SUV, I headed back to the convent. We had a couple of hours before we were meeting up again and my stomach was grumbling at me. Deciding to feed my vessel, I went straight to the canteen.

  Being as it was early evening, I was surprised at how busy it was in there. As usual, most heads turned in my direction when I walked in, but I ignored them, heading straight for the food. I was delighted to see there were some shrimp po’boys left and grabbed one, eating it as I walked over to Cupid, who I had already spotted chatting with Veronica.

  “These have got to be my favorite food,” I informed them, my mouth full of the item in question. If food would one day become optional, I would continue to eat based on this meal alone.

  “I know you’re practically an angel now, but it is still considered the norm to actually chew your food before you swallow it,” Cupid said, reaching over and stealing a potato chip from my plate.

  “Swallow?” Veronica laughed. “I think that’s what is referred to as inhaling your food. Did you forget to eat or something?”

  I nodded, swiping at Cupid’s hand as he tried to steal another chip. “Mine,” I growled. Taking into consideration the fact I was starving and Cupid was constantly trying to steal the food from my plate, it didn’t take me long to finish off my food. I pushed the plate away from me and leaned back in my chair. “I need to ask you guys something,” I told them.

  Veronica and Cupid shared a look. “Okay,” Veronica muttered.

  “The one who chose eternal life before me-”

  “You need to talk to Michael,” Cupid said, interrupting me before I could even ask the question. “We’re not allowed to talk about it.”

  “But you’re an archangel too,” I objected. “And you don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

  Veronica shrugged. “You were going to ask something about Lilah, and that’s something we can’t answer.”

  “So her name’s Lilah?” I asked. I knew that, of course, but I was hoping it would prompt them to share something else. It didn’t. Instead the question caused Cupid to swipe at Veronica. “Fine!” I conceded, holding my hands in the air. “I will go ask our fearless leader.” I gave Cupid a pointed look and got up from the table.

  I made my way up to my room. My priority was getting ready to go out to meet Joshua. If I hurried, I would still have time to catch Michael before I left – but I didn’t want to risk keeping Joshua waiting.

  I stood in front of my open wardrobe eyeing the contents of it. Wear something that wasn’t going to look out of place... That was the instruction Joshua had given me. Once you took away my work wear, there really wasn’t much left in there, and a small fraction of that was something I would wear out to a bar.

  I rifled through the dangling clothes, pushing one item to the side after another. Finally, my fingers caught the silken material of a top I had forgotten about. I had never worn it, having died before I had the chance, and I don’t really remember collecting it from Sarah’s. I pulled it out and held it up to examine in the light. It had a diamante collar, was completely backless, and the black silken material was held in place by the matching diamante strip at the bottom.

  This would do. I pulled the tag off the unworn garment and laid it on the bed. It took me moments to pull out a suitable black skirt and slip both items on, finishing the outfit off with some black heels.

  I was contemplating making my eyes smokier than they were when I caught a glimpse of the time. If I wanted to talk to Michael before I left, I didn’t have time to add more make-up to what I was already wearing.

  I made my way upstairs to Michael’s room and knocked on the door. When I didn’t get a response, I frowned and poked my head in. The room was empty. “Hmmm,” I murmured.

  “You’re looking for me?” Michael’s voice came from behind me, causing me to shriek and leap into his room.

  “Yes,” I yelped, turning to find his bemused expression studying me.

  “You’re a little jumpy,” he told me, ushering me into the room.

  “That’s because you crept up on me,” I told him.

  He leaned back against the wall, casually folding his arms, and with his head cocked, watching me. “What are you wearing?” he asked me, finally, his expression unreadable.

  I sighed inwardly. Great. The outfit was inappropriate and I was going to have to change. “I’m going out with Joshua tonight. Not on a date or anything,” I added hurriedly. “I’m helping him on a case. We’re heading into the Quarter and I can’t really wear my uniform because apparently it’s too conspicuous. I need to be able to blend in.” At his lack of comment I did sigh. “I need to change, don’t I?”

  “Angel, you look resplendent,” he murmured, finally.

  “Is that good or bad?” I asked, cautiously.

  “Good,” he muttered. “Very good.”

  Weird. If I didn’t know better, I would have said he was paying me a compliment. “Thanks?” I offered.

  He cleared his throat, the distant look disappearing from his eyes. “I would hardly call returning to my own room creeping up on you. However, I would like to know what brings you up here?”

  “I have questions,” I informed him as I began to pace back and forth. “Questions that Veronica and Cupid can’t, or won’t, answer,” I added, glancing at him.

  Michael sighed and nodded. “I must admit, I didn’t think it would be this soon before you would ask. And for the record, they can’t answer them.”

  “You mentioned once that there was something special about my aura,” I started, but stopped when I glanced back at him and saw the surprised expression.

  “Oh,” he said, simply.

  “You were expecting something else?” I asked him, pausing in my pacing.

  Michael nodded. “What is the meaning of life? I get asked that one a lot.”

  “Oh,” I returned. “What is the meaning of life?” I asked. As you can probably guess, that’s not a question I have pondered often and to be completely honest, auras and the first angel Potential were actually higher on the list of importance to me.

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that?” he asked me, cocking his head as he smiled in amusement.

  “No,” I admitted with a sigh. “I want to know what’s special about my aura.”

  Michael ran his hand over his mouth, a movement that seemed nervous: something that as far as I had witnessed, seemed out of character for him. “Very well,�
�� he nodded, indicating to the couches.

  I was far too restless to want to sit, much less be able to sit still, but I moved to where he was pointing and perched on the edge of one of the couches. Michael followed, sitting down opposite me.

  “What makes you ask about it?” he asked me slowly.

  “I was helping Joshua and I ended up chatting to a woman who could see my aura. I can’t see it though,” I added, staring down at my arm.

  “No, we are not capable of seeing our own auras,” Michael nodded.

  “She said it was like lightning,” I told him.

  Michael nodded again. “Yours is exceptionally bright. A bright white, the area closest to you tinged with gold.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, curiously, wishing I could see it.

  “It’s rare,” he sighed again. “Rarer than you think. Normally, you would only see it in babies, not adults. While most think it resembles purity, which it does, it also speaks of a strong connection to death – to angels. The closer you come to earning your wings, the more it will change.”

  “What did it look like?”

  Michael pursed his lips, considering if to answer the question. “Auras are different with everyone. Most have auras of one color and they vary in shade and intensity.” He frowned. “At the end, it was nearly completely white. There were only traces of the blue still there.”

  “It was blue?” I asked.

  Michael’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t seem as surprised by that as I would expect.”

  I shook my head. “Mama Laveau told me-”

  “Mama Laveau?” he repeated, cutting me off. “She’s still here?”

  It was my turn to frown. “You know her?”

  Michael nodded. “Our paths have crossed several times over the last few centuries.”

  “So she really is the same Marie Laveau that’s buried in St Louis Cemetery?”

  Michael gave me a look that seemed to verge on the edge of pity. “Angel, she’s not buried in a tomb. You’ve been talking to her.”