Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One)

by C. L. Coffey

“What to work?” I demanded.

  “For you to unlock the door to release Lucifer,” she grinned at me.

  I shook my head. “Lucifer is dead. Michael killed him millennia ago.”

  “Michael stopped him,” she corrected me. “He didn’t kill him. He got locked away in Hell, and the only way to release him was to get an angel to kill another angel and a human.”

  My legs wobbled beneath me and I could feel my hairline prickling as all the blood rushed from my head. I collapse to the ground. “What?” I asked, in a hoarse whisper.

  My hand suddenly felt warm and I glanced down to find Joshua had slipped his into mine, squeezing it tightly. “Ignore her,” he told me, his voice weak and croaky. “She’s trying to psych you out.”

  Lilah laughed. “Hardly,” she scoffed. “An angel killing an angel and a human – it was decided so long ago, at a time when it was thought to be impossible.” She coughed, and a trickle of blood appeared at the side of her mouth. “An angel was never going to kill. Even if they could, they would only be able to kill one – an angel can only be killed by a certain weapon, and if you managed to succeed, they would have fallen before they could kill a human. And then the population of the world exploded and suddenly there was a need to create new angels.”

  I clutched at Joshua’s hand. “I don’t believe you,” I whispered.

  “Believe what you want,” she shrugged. “The fallen angels realized that there was a giant loophole in that protection. An angel would never kill a human, but an angel who had once been human might, especially if it were to protect someone they loved.”

  I could feel my face heating up and I refused to look at Joshua. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled.

  “Oh please,” she muttered, before coughing up a lot of blood. “Whether or not you want to admit it, when you saw he was going to die, you jumped in and saved his life. As I said, the irony is, he could never die, or this would never work. I really thought I had kicked you across that room a little too hard – that’s why I decided to choke him, because, let’s be honest, you can really drag that out. That and the fact you still needed to earn your wings.” There was another spluttering cough. “Look, it’s working,” she said, gesturing to the sword.

  The blade was slowly darkening.

  “But you fell,” I told her, practically begging her to jump up and say, ‘yeah – got’cha. I fell’.

  ‘Please,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Despite what that archangel will tell you, the only thing that will actually cause an angel to fall is to disobey God, and I never disobeyed Him.”

  “But all those murders-”

  “Seriously? Were you not paying any attention?” she asked, her tone scathing. “I never killed anyone. I never even orchestrated it. All I did was tell the boss if anyone came into the bar with the right kind of aura, and then followed after them with that guy,” she pointed to the fallen angel I had killed.

  “But why so many?” I asked. “Why keep killing?”

  Lilah rolled her eyes. “Because the plan was to get a Potential to agree to become an angel before an archangel appeared, and then Michael turned up and kept getting there too quickly. That and the fact that only you and I were stupid enough to pick eternal life,” she added with a dry laugh. It was followed by a lot of spluttering and coughing, and then I watched the life die in her eyes. She slumped to the floor, still smiling up at me.

  The last thing I remembered was an almighty explosion of light and being thrown backwards, still clutching at Joshua’s hand.

  EPILOGUE

  I could sense myself rousing from sleep before I opened my eyes. For a brief moment I was at peace. Nothing was wrong, nothing was bothering me, and I didn’t have anything to worry about. For the moment, at least.

  Then it came rushing back faster than the speed of light. My eyes shot open and I couldn’t help but shoot upright, ready to find Joshua, to fight my way out to safety, but I found myself chained to the spot, a hand pressing me back down, and another clamped across my mouth. In blind panic I tried to free myself, fighting against all my bonds, but whatever I did – it wasn’t working.

  “Stop fighting before you attract attention!” a voice hissed at me.

  I looked down at the hand over my mouth, following it up the arm covered in a white doctor’s coat, and to the face of a beautiful woman. A woman who was far too strong to be human. It took a second for me to realize I knew her and as soon as I did, I relaxed back into something soft.

  As she carefully removed her hand, leaving it hovering inches from me, I glanced around the room. This wasn’t an abandoned attraction in the middle of an abandoned theme park, in the middle of a hurricane. For starters, I was lying in a bed with a pale blue blanket that tickled the skin on my bare-arms. My legs were feeling the warmth from the bright sunlight that was filtering between the blinds into the room: the room of a hospital.

  “Josh-”

  The hand was clamped back over my mouth before I could finish crying his name. “You need to be quiet!” Lilly hissed at me again. “We don’t have much time before the police return as it is.” Again, she slowly removed her hand.

  “What?” I whispered, confused. Lilly pointed down at my arm, handcuffed to the bed. “What the heck?” I asked, giving the handcuff a tug.

  “Stop that, before you snap it,” Lilly told me, scowling.

  “What happened?” I demanded, returning her scowl.

  “We were hoping you could tell us that,” Michael said, suddenly materializing next to my bed. Lilly’s hand was back over my mouth before I could let out my startled scream.

  Using my free arm, I pulled my hand away from her. “I have to be quiet,” I told her through gritted teeth. “I get it.” I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

  That was when I felt it. Or rather, felt two things. The first, the most important in my mind, was that not only was Joshua alive and safe, he was rooms away from me.

  The second... it was hard to explain. It was like a connection... to Michael. I knew that if I opened my eyes to look at him, I would see an expression which would allow him to kick ass at poker. But even with my eyes closed, I knew with an utmost certainty that he was worried (about me), concerned about what had happened, that there was an, almost hidden, deep-rooted fear of something I couldn’t quite tell, and on top of all that, a smidgen of pride (again, bizarrely, directed towards me).

  This time, I did open my eyes and look up at him. The moment our eyes met, the guarded look changed for one of understanding. “You earned you wings,” he explained. As I started to turn to look behind me and see if I could see them, he stopped me, shaking his head. “Not here,” he told me. “For now, they are hidden. When you get released and return to the convent, then you can see them. But not here.”

  “Why am I handcuffed to the bed?” I asked him. “My experience of beds and handcuffs doesn’t exactly go like this,” I added, trying to add some humor to the situation.

  It fell on deaf ears. “You have been arrested for the attempted murder of Joshua Walsh,” Michael began to explain.

  “I didn’t-” Lilly’s hand was clamped back on my mouth. I pulled it away in frustration. “I swear to God, if you don’t stop doing that, I am going to grant you your own personal visit from an Angel of Death,” I hissed at her.

  There was a loud sigh from Michael, as Lilly took two steps back from me, and I looked back to him. “Angel, you’re a full-fledged angel now. If you make an oath to God like that, you have to keep it.”

  My mouth fell open. “Seriously?” I blinked. “Hang on. I’m an angel? You mean I earned my wings?” Michael nodded, finally looking proud. “But how?” I asked.

  “You acknowledged what you are,” he said, simply.

  Simple was not going to cut it. “And what does that mean?” I demanded. “How exactly did I achieve that?”

  “You acknowledged what you are,” Michael repeated. “You accepted the fact you are
an angel”

  “Then I’ve had my wings for a while,” I told him. “Transporting a girl across the city in the blink of an eye is proof enough for me.”

  “Proof enough for you, or proof enough that I am an angel?” Michael asked. As I stared mutely at him, he gave me a small smile. “Despite everything, you did not believe you were an angel.”

  He was right. Deep down I believed in angels almost from the beginning, even if I wasn’t willing to acknowledge it. The moment I knew I had the ability to save Joshua, when I asked for help – when I asked God to give me the strength – that’s when I knew I was an angel. Michael nodded. “We will discuss this later, but right now, I don’t have time. Currently you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Joshua,” he held up his hand before I could get further than opening my mouth to object. “As well as the murders of Paige Kenworth and two others.”

  “Who the heck is Paige Kenworth?” I asked, blinking at the fact that despite my attempt to say ‘hell’, heck had come out instead.

  He gave me a disapproving glare, as though knowing my desired choice of words. “Paige Kenworth was the human Lilah was possessing.”

  The other two must have been her Fallen sidekicks. The pain that hit me then was immense. It was like there was suddenly a gaping hole in my stomach and I couldn’t do much more than gasp in pain as I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, all the warmth sucked from me.

  Michael’s hand was on my shoulder and I could feel the waves of comfort sent my way. “It will get easier.”

  “Easier?” I gasped, looking up at him but only seeing his blurry outline through my tears. “I killed an angel – I killed a human... how the heck am I still... how... how the heck did I earn my wings?”

  “You saved Joshua’s life,” Michael explained, simply.

  “Then why do I feel like someone ripped my insides out,” I gasped.

  “That’s your punishment,” he told me, sadly. His hand slipped into his pocket and pulled something out.

  I glanced down at it as he laid it in front of my feet, and I had to wipe my eyes to see what it was. It was Lilah’s blade, now completely black. “I don’t want it,” I told him.

  “You have no choice,” Michael sighed. “The most important rule is to protect your charge. You did. But equally important is not to kill a human. You did. As such, you have to live with it. The pain, the guilt – it will get easier, but it will never go away.” He gave me a sad smile. “Trust me.”

  My eyes widen in horror as I realized I had forgotten the most crucial thing. “Lucifer,” I choked out. “Joshua was a key... he... I released Lucifer!”

  “Lucifer is dead,” Michael told me calmly. “I know, because he is the reason my own sword is black.”

  “But you don’t understand,” I told him, but he shook his head, scooping the dagger back up.

  “Right now Joshua has finished telling his partner a version of what happened two nights ago, the highlights of which are that he was taken by Paige and her accomplices and you managed to save his life. In a few moments they will come here and question you. I don’t condone lying, but in this instance, Angel, I think it would be for the best if you conveniently don’t remember anything. The sword is in my possession and they have no evidence that you did anything, other than save Joshua’s life.”

  “But Lucifer-”

  Michael nodded at Lilly and she left us alone. As soon as she had vanished he carefully wrapped his hands around mine and looked straight at me. “Angel, Lucifer is dead. He cannot rise.” The words were as loud and clear as though he had said them aloud. But his lips had never moved.

  I screwed my eyes up, wondering what kind of drugs I was on.

  “You’re not hallucinating,” Michael’s voice told me. “You earned your wings, Angel. You are an angel now, and with that comes a psychic connection with the archangel of your House – me.”

  My eyes flew open. “You can read my mind?” I asked in horror.

  Michael shook his head. “Think of it more as being able to communicate telepathically. But no, I cannot read your mind, although sometimes I admit it would be easier to know what you are thinking rather than trying to decipher your aura.” He let go of one of my hands and in a motion surprisingly tender, stroked my cheek, giving me a sad smile.

  I blinked a few times and swallowed a lump away. “But if you can communicate telepathically with your angels, how come you’ve never spoken to Lilah? Lucifer-”

  “Angel,” Michael interrupted me, firmly. “Lucifer is dead. He cannot rise. As for Lilah, as soon as an angel becomes an archangel, they lose that connection so they might share it with their own angels, or the angels which would reside in their House. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t have foreseen what she had planned for Joshua.”

  “But-” I tried again. He had to know about Lucifer.

  Michael, however, had other plans and silenced me by placing a finger over my lips. “What you experienced was extremely traumatic and I’m sorry you’ve had to go through it, especially as Lilah’s reasons make it all the more senseless, but Lucifer will not and cannot rise. You have nothing to worry about, so stop stressing your vessel.” At my nod he rose to his feet. “The police will be in shortly. Remember what I said and I shall collect you when you’ve been discharged later.”

  That was it. He was there, and then he wasn’t. All alone in the room, I lay back in my bed. Joshua was alive, I had earned my wings, and if Michael didn’t seem concerned about Lucifer’s rising, then maybe there really was nothing to worry about. Clutching at these few positive thoughts, I curled up into a ball on my side and waited for the police.

  Angel and the

  Darkness

  Book Two

  of the

  Louisiangel Series

  C. L. Coffey

  Coming October 2015

  CHAPTER ONE

  Trigger Warning

  October 20th

  New Orleans

  63,447.

  That was how many minutes had passed since I had killed someone.

  Apart from the first eight hundred or so where I had been unconscious, I had been aware of every single one of the sixty-three thousand, four hundred and forty-seven minutes. Painfully aware.

  When I first arrived in the convent, I couldn’t understand why there wasn’t a single clock in the building. The angels didn’t even wear watches. After I had earned my wings when I’d awoken in the hospital, the reason for this was apparent. I knew what time it was. Not from a rough guess driven from the height of the sun or the moon. I just knew. It was how I knew exactly how long it had been since I had killed an innocent human.

  Michael had told me that I would reach a point where both sleep and sustenance were more of a choice than a necessity, I hadn’t believed him. In my defense, I had just found out that he was an archangel, and I had died and had to earn my wings to become an angel myself. I didn’t believe in Heaven and Hell, or angels and fallen angels, and yet I was supposed to believe I was dead, despite the fact I was still walking and talking. On top of that, I was to become an angel called Angel? You try telling me you wouldn’t be skeptical.

  Had you asked me to describe an angel to you, my answer would have been beautiful men with large white wings, lying around on clouds, playing harps. Only the first part of that was right. Every single angel I had encountered was beautiful. Michael looked like he had been hand sculptured because there was no way anyone could be that handsome. Even the other angels in the convent were beautiful – except for me. I’d been stuck with my own body: too tall to be considered cute, too curvy to be considered model-like, and with my exceptionally large eyes, I certainly wasn’t a beauty.

  My body was now, as Michael called it, my vessel. It was frozen in time – never to grow old or gain weight. Had I known that was going to happen, I certainly would have made the effort to lose those last few pounds and tone up. As it was, that was the least of my worries when it came to my appearance. The a
rtificial cherry red hair that I thought would be a great idea for one night out, which had yet to fade despite the amount of shampoo it had seen, was now a permanent replacement to the blonde it had once been.

  It wasn’t just my appearance that should have made me one of the least likely candidates to become an angel. There was also the fact I’m probably the least likely person you could pick to be an angel. Angelina Connors PD (pre-death) was a college student, majoring in marketing, whose biggest ambition was to graduate. I was also a girl who liked to go out with my friends and make the most of the fake ID I had.

  Mardis Gras had fallen on my twentieth birthday, just over eight months ago. My friends had gone out dressed as angels, and I had dyed my hair bright red, found a red dress that my aunt would never have let me out of the house wearing if she had seen me in it, and played the part of a devil. I’d had too much to drink and lost my friends. My killer had taken advantage of that and stabbed me in my abdomen. I’d died in an alley.

  I had been convinced it was the drinking which had gotten me killed. I’ve since learned that it probably helped make my killer’s job easier, but I was going to die that night, regardless of how many hurricane slushies I’d had. I was just another piece in a puzzle: a puzzle to raise Lucifer.

  Michael had told me that was not possible. He should know. He had, after all, killed Lucifer millennia ago. It made what I had done even worse, because I had dragged Joshua into all of this.

  Joshua Walsh was my charge. He was a recently graduated cop in the New Orleans Police Department, on a special program to fast-track his way to becoming a homicide detective. He was the one person I was responsible for protecting. Ironically, had I not been his Guardian Angel, he probably would have stayed safe. Thinking of Joshua sent another jolt of pain shooting through my body and I rolled onto my side, wrapping my arms around a pillow and curling up into a fetal position.