Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) (10 page)

“Michael’s dead!” Cupid exploded. “If
we’re going to survive without him, we’re going to have to do things differently.”

“By breaking the rules?” I yelled back. “We’re
already down eighteen angels in this House! Why are we doing stupid things that
risk any one of us falling? The police had no evidence of anything, and maybe
Joshua could have done something.”

“No one is falling!” Cupid shouted back, impatiently.
“No rule has been broken. I made a calculated judgement call which was mine to
make: I am in charge of this House now!”

“Well you doing such a mighty fine job,
you clearly don’t need me,” I snapped back. I headed for the door: I was so
angry I was shaking. If I stayed in there for much longer, I was going to say
something I would regret.

“Angel!” Cupid yelled after me. I ignored
him, allowing the door to slam closed behind me.

The thought of going to my room didn’t
appeal to me, and tempting as it was to go see Sarah, it was getting close to
dinner time. She would be busy in the kitchen which would no longer be as empty
as it had been now she finally had some help. I headed for the main doors –
past the now empty reception desk – and stepped out into the muggy afternoon
air.

It was just after four and it was already
showing signs of getting dark. The streetlights were slowly flickering on, and
the various floodlights around the grounds were already illuminating the area.

I headed straight for the gates. My hand
was on the latch before I remembered I wasn’t wearing my cap, but I shrugged
that thought from my mind. If Cupid could tell Leon what we were, why was it
even important anymore? It was probably the time of day, but the crowd that
normally lingered outside the church had dropped down to only a handful of
people and they paid me no attention.

I headed to the Quarter. I had no real
destination in mind – I just needed to walk. If I didn’t get rid of this built
up energy, this anger, I was probably going to explode.

There was a steady stream of people in the
Quarter, particularly on Bourbon Street, but I wasn’t paying attention to them,
nor to where I was going. Not until I saw the familiar yellow building. It
still had the building length banners of Luke Goddard draped from the balcony,
but aside from that, there was nothing to suggest a live music event had taken
a turn for the weird a month ago. I stared up at the banners as a feeling of
nausea washed over me.

Luke Goddard.

I had tried my best not to think too much
about what had happened on Halloween, because every time I considered it, I
couldn’t fit all the pieces together to make a coherent enough argument for
Michael to believe me. I had gone to Bee’s because I believed the Fallen had
tried to raise Lucifer. I’d ended up fighting Beelzebub and only survived
because he wanted me to survive. Michael had believed me about Beelzebub – and
Asmodeus – but the topic of Lucifer had resulted in the cherubim leaving the
House.

Lucifer was back. There was no doubt in my
mind about that. The problem was that I was certain he was back and possessing
the body of Luke Goddard. Only, I had no proof. There was also the question of
why the hell would
Lucifer
possess a teen pop idol? Seriously, if I was
the King of the Hell and I made it back to earth, I would definitely find
myself a more prominent vessel. The President – I could do some damage in that
vessel. Until I could convince myself of why Lucifer was on a sellout tour
around the country instead of controlling nuclear warheads, there was no way I
would have been able to convince Cupid, never mind Michael.

I stared at the poster, growing more
annoyed. It wasn’t like I could check, either. At this moment in time, Luke Goddard
was somewhere on the West Coast, probably surrounded by half a dozen security
guards, and probably fifty screaming fans. I wouldn’t be able to walk up to him
and ask him, and I certainly wasn’t able to just appear in front of him. Maybe
there was an answer inside of Bee’s?

I’d only taken one step towards Bee’s when
an arm wrapped around my waist and dragged me backwards. The next thing I knew,
I was standing in front of Veronica.

As the arm let go of me, I whirled around
and swung. Garret wasn’t expecting it, but he recovered from the punch quickly.
“Garret!” Veronica bellowed before Garret could hit me back. His eyes narrowed
and he growled, but he took a step back.

“There is no need for violence,” Veronica
cried in exasperation.

“There is no need for kidnapping me,” I
snapped at Garret.

Garret’s lip curled upwards. “You wouldn’t
have come with me.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” I assured him. “You’re
a jerk.”

“Please can we not argue?” Veronica
sighed.

I turned back to Veronica, finally taking
the time to look at my surroundings. We were back in the room with the table,
but things had improved in here – wherever here was. It was clean – all the
piles of trash and rubble had been removed. The air no longer smelled of damp
and whatever had been left decaying had been replaced with the artificial lemon
scent which came with disinfectant. Judging by how my nose was tickling, I
suspected they’d pretty much bathed the place in the stuff.

The room was dimly lit. They’d apparently
not managed to get power on in the building, and were instead using hundreds of
candles. They lined the edges of the walls, flickering in the drafty room.
Although it gave the room some light, I was a little wary of how close they
were to the large, mismatched drapes which hung over the windows. It was a good
job that they still had the ability to transport themselves to another location
in the blink of an eye, because I wasn’t convinced whatever sprinkler system
was installed was still working.

Veronica was tapping her foot as she
waited impatiently for me to finish looking around the room. “It looks a lot
different in here,” I said, slightly envious of how much effort the cherubim
must have put in to accomplish so much in such a short span of time, while I
was unable to get the angels to clear their plates at meal times.

“Would you like a guided tour?” Garret
suggested, though the amount of sarcasm dripping from his tone indicated that
was the last thing he was prepared to do.

“Sure,” I accepted brightly. “Maybe you
can show me the exit?”

“You could start with one of the windows,”
Garret shrugged.

“And you wonder why I don’t want to come
with you,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Can we please stop arguing?” Veronica
begged, addressing the question to Garret. “You agreed we need her help.”
Although Garret folded his arms and glared sullenly back at Veronica, he didn’t
say anything. “Thank you,” Veronica muttered, turning back to me. “We were
wondering if you had reconsidered our offer?”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going
on?” I demanded impatiently, my hands finding their way to my hips.

“Are you going to swear an oath not to
tell Michael anything?” Garret responded, hotly.

Just like that I could feel the blood rush
from my head, and I couldn’t stop myself from swaying on the spot. I reached
out for the nearest chair, using it to steady myself. They didn’t know Michael
was dead. Mentally, I shook myself: how would they know? They no longer had
that connection and no one knew where to find them.

“Are you okay?” Veronica asked, hurrying
over to me. Her gray eyes peered at me in concern from behind her black bangs.

“You don’t know,” I mumbled.

“Know what?” she asked.

“Michael,” I said, before clearing my
throat. “Michael was killed by one of the Fallen last night.” The words seemed
to make my throat burn.

Veronica stared blankly at me. “I don’t
understand,” she said, taking a step back.

“He was caught in a trap,” I struggled to
explain. “He didn’t survive.”

Veronica’s hands flew to her mouth to
cover a sob. She stared at me, silently begging me to tell her it was lies as
she shook her head.

“You’re lying,” Garret said, although he
sounded unsure of his own words. “Michael can’t be dead. He’s Michael.”

“Who?” Veronica demanded, her hands
curling into fists as the shock in her eyes was replaced with rage.

“Valac,” I replied. “But he’s dead too. I
killed him.”

“You killed Valac?” Garret scoffed in
disbelief. “You?”

“
You
can go jump out that damn
window,” I growled at him. I looked to Veronica. “Who was Valac?”

“He was a throne,” she said, quietly. “I
thought he was in Argentina, actually. Running around with the drug cartels. He
shouldn’t have been a problem for Michael, though.” Her shoulders sagged. “Are
you sure?” she asked me.

I nodded my head. “He’s gone.” Veronica
whirled around to Garret. “This changes everything.”

“This changes nothing,” Garret disagreed.
“We need to discuss this with the other cherubim before we do anything else. I
don’t care if she can’t tell Michael anything; this does not change our focus.”

Veronica paused then nodded, turning back
to me. “Sorry,” she said. She caught her lip between her teeth and wrapped her
arms around herself. “I’ll take you back.” She stepped forward, and just like
that, I was back in the grounds of the convent. “How’s Cupid?” she asked,
glancing up at the white building behind us.

“He’s in charge of the House,” I shrugged.

“How’s he
doing
?” she pressed. “He
never wanted that, and Michael…”

“Angry, grieving, trying to do a job he
doesn’t want – still missing his best friend,” I added. “You could go in and
ask him this yourself,” I pointed out.

For the first time since I had met
Veronica, tears flooded her eyes, but she shook her head. “I can’t. We left the
House.”

“You left Michael’s House,” I said, but I
was speaking the words to an empty garden.

While my anger had finally dissipated, I
still had no desire to return inside, so I left the convent grounds once again.
It was completely dark now, but the weather was still thankfully warm enough
that I could walk around without a jacket on and not look too out of place.

This time, I was more aware of my
surroundings as I strolled along to the banks of the Mississippi, following it
until I reached a spot not too far from the St. Louis Cathedral. I spotted an
empty bench and took it, staring out across the water to the lights on the
opposite side of the bank. There was a strong breeze tonight. This late in the
year, there should have been a chill to it, but instead there was the same
muggy warmth there had been in late August. I leaned back and allowed the
breeze to tug my hair behind me as I tried to concentrate on the sound of the
water lapping against the bank in front of me, over the noise of rush hour in
the city behind me.

Finally, I had some time to myself, time
to think and collect my thoughts. I’d been avoiding this all day… Ty. I could
not get past the fact that
he
was the person who had sent me to that
Port. Had he really overheard a conversation with Asmodeus? Asmodeus
had
looked shocked to see Michael’s body, but who was to say he wasn’t a really
good actor? What if that had been the intention all along? And if it was, how
could I tell any of the archangels –
anyone
– that he had sent me there.
At the end of the day, it was me who had chosen to act on that information.
Once again I had put my trust in a nephilim and this time someone had been
killed.

My hands curled into fists around the
wooden slat of the bench. I was going to kick Ty’s ass the next time I saw him.
I let out a low growl, the wood snapping off in my hands. Kicking his ass was
way less than what he deserved. Kicking his ass to the gates of Hell – that was
more like it.

I glanced down at the pieces of wood in my
hands, before launching them at the water. I couldn’t tell anyone about Ty. It
wasn’t like anyone was asking about the details, but it didn’t change the fact
that I was a naive, gullible idiot who had looked to find the good in a
nephilim. Again.

I sank back into the bench and sighed.
What the hell was I doing? I stared back out across the water, sucking in a
deep breath of the muggy air, the scent of diesel mixing with the slight damp
smell. It was kind of reassuring – that no matter what was happening, New
Orleans was carrying on as normal. Maybe I would be able to return to that.

When my phone vibrated in my pocket, even
though I knew it would be Joshua, I took a moment before reading the text
message: sat there, right in that moment, I felt so small and insignificant,
and it was wonderful. How the hell did
I
get to this point? A year ago,
if you’d have told me that angels existed, I would have rolled my eyes. Try
telling me that I was going to become one and help run a house full of angels?

Finally, I opened the text message.
Where
R U? X

I quickly responded to Joshua. When his
response didn’t come – I assumed he was driving – I closed my eyes again. This feeling
of insignificance wasn’t going to last long, but I was going to make the most
of it.

Seventeen minutes later, someone joined me
on the bench. “That smells delicious,” I declared, opening my eyes to find
Joshua offering me a plastic tub of spicy smelling food. I took it, and the
silver fork, peering into the transparent container at the rice. “I take it
this is Maggie’s jambalaya?” I asked.

Joshua pulled the lid off his own tub, the
steam escaping into the night. “You know I can cook, right?”

“I know that you haven’t had the chance to
cook in the last few days,” I said, stabbing my fork into a piece of meat that
was either chorizo or Andouille sausage and taking a bite. (It was the latter).
“Your cutlery also has squarer handles than these, so I’m guessing you called
in to see your godmother and she loaded you up with dinner, and you ‘borrowed’
the forks when she wasn’t looking.”

Joshua just grinned at me as he wolfed down
his food. I couldn’t blame him. Maggie’s jambalaya, a spicy, tomato-based
paella-style dish was phenomenal. This one was full of shrimp, chicken, and
sausage, and boy was it delicious. I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was
until the container was empty.

Joshua finished his almost as quickly as I
did. He gathered up the containers and forks, and put them on the far side of
him, before shuffling over and pulling me close to him. “What’s the matter?” he
asked, resting his head against my own.

“What makes you think there’s something
wrong?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Because I know you better
than you think I do.”

“Do you now?” I retorted, shifting my
weight so I could look up at him.

“I do indeed,” he responded with a grin. “I
knew you were hungry, didn’t I?”

“I’m always hungry,” I muttered as I sank
back against him. “Cupid told Leon.”

“I know, I was there,” Joshua responded.

“There are rules,” I clarified. “Don’t
drink, don’t do drugs, don’t have sex, don’t tell anyone I’m an angel, and
don’t tell anyone about the convent.”

“You know you broke two of them yourself,
right?” Joshua asked. “Your aunt knows about you, and we both know about the
convent.”

“Technically, I told Sarah in a dream,
you, on the other hand, played sneaky and found out about the convent on your
own,” I said, poking him in the ribs.

“Just doing my job, darlin’,” Joshua
muttered, reaching over to rub at the spot I’d poked. “But I don’t see what the
big deal is? Leon knowing is going to help.”

“The big deal is that Michael kept
insisting that the rules couldn’t be broken or there would be dire
consequences, and then Cupid goes ahead and does it, and nothing happens,” I
said. I stood up and wandered over to the edge of the water. There weren’t any
barriers here, and the water was lapping up against breaker rocks only a couple
of meters from me. “It’s not that I want something to happen to Cupid, because
I really don’t,” I explained as Joshua came to stand beside me. “It’s just…
what other rules aren’t actually rules? Lilah said she never fell, Michael said
she did.”

“This is important to you?” Joshua asked,
quietly.

“I just want to know the truth,” I
admitted. “Not just about the rules, but about everything! I’m supposed to be
helping Cupid run that House and I don’t think I’m being told everything.”

Joshua rolled his shoulders before turning
his attention away from the water to face me. “I found Darell.”

It took me a second to place the name, before
I quickly whipped around on the spot. “Darell? Lilah’s Darell? You found him?”
I repeated as a bolt of excitement shot through me.

Joshua nodded. “Once you told me his name,
and the fact he was once US Army, combined with the fact he was in the city for
a time, it was quite easy. He’s in Houston.”

“That’s only a six-hour drive – less
depending on traffic,” I said, already planning on heading back to the convent
for an SUV. Okay, it was a day roundtrip, but it was a day out of New Orleans.

“I’ll go with you, if you want?” Joshua
offered.

I blinked, looking up at him. “You want to
come?”

“Of course,” he said, frowning at the
suggestion he wouldn’t. “I get that you can take care of yourself, but it’d be
pretty lousy of me to let you go on your own.”

I flung my arms around his neck and kissed
him. I was completely prepared to drive to Houston by myself, but the fact that
Joshua was willing to come with me relieved some of the tension I was feeling.
“Are you ready to go?”

“Now?” Joshua asked, his head cocked.

“Might as well get going,” I confirmed.

The confused look remained. “You don’t
want to run by the convent?”

“I think some space is a good thing right
now. Besides, if we leave now, we can be back before Cupid notices.”

Joshua still looked concerned, but
eventually shrugged. We gathered up the dinner containers and made our way to
his car. Soon, we were on the road and New Orleans was nothing but a series of
lights in the rearview mirror as we headed out to the west.

No sooner had we left the city and hit the
causeway, the rain moved in. It was only a drizzle that seemed worse than it
was because of the speed we were moving at, but the sight of the windscreen
wipers going back and forth startled me. “How long has it been since it rained
last?” I asked.

The question was more aimed at myself than
Joshua but he answered anyway. “That was on the news the other day. Apparently
there was one storm back in October, but before that was only what was left
over from Hurricane Tabitha. It’s got the weather guys confused. They seem to
think that any raincloud diverts itself before it actually hits the city, and
obviously that’s not possible.”

“October?” I muttered. That had to have
been the night I had found Joshua in an abandoned house being held at gunpoint with
his own gun. If that was the case, that was six weeks ago, and although I had
no idea what the average rainfall for the area was, I was willing to bet it was
significantly more than ‘nothing’. “I wonder if it’s the work of the Fallen,” I
mused.

“I thought the Fallen were more interested
in sending hurricanes in our direction?” Joshua frowned. “What benefit would it
be to them to stop all the rain? It’s a city, not farmland, and it’s not like
we have a drought watch going on. The Mississippi has the highest levels this
year thanks to heavy rainfall upstream.”

“I don’t know,” I said as I raised a
shoulder in a half shrug. “I’ll bring it up with Cupid when we get back.”

“Speaking of Cupid,” said Joshua. “I
realize that I brought up this little road trip, and I’m not against
spontaneity, but is this okay?”

“Is what?” I asked, turning to face him.
“Discussing the weather?”

Joshua shook his head. “We just took off,
darlin’,” he pointed out.

I pulled a face. “On a road trip. It’s not
like we’re running away and eloping. We’re coming back tonight.”

Joshua briefly took his eyes off the road
to look at me, an eyebrow disappearing under his hair. “Tonight?”

“Yes?” I responded, suddenly confused.
“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Because it’s a five and a half hour
drive, longer judging from this traffic: we’ll be lucky if we get in before
midnight at this rate. Were you thinking we’re going to turn up unannounced on
his doorstep in the middle of the night?”

“Yes?” I admitted. Okay, I hadn’t
considered that. Then something else occurred to me. “If you weren’t planning
on seeing him tonight, why are we leaving now?”

“You’re the one that wanted to leave
straight away, darlin’,” Joshua pointed out. “I assumed you were happy with us
grabbing a room at a motel, or something.”

“I don’t have anything to sleep in, much
less a change of clothes for in the morning,” I realized.

Joshua glanced at me and gave me a huge
grin. “When you didn’t want to swing by the convent, I figured you were happy
to be sleeping nude.”

My mouth fell open. “Of course you were,”
I grunted, backhanding his arm.

Joshua laughed. “Look, we’re nearly off
this bridge, I can turn around and head back, if you like?”

“What were you going to do for clothing?”
I asked, curious.

“We’re going to Houston, not the boonies.
They have 24-hour stores there,” Joshua chuckled. “I believe you can even get a
toothbrush in some hotels.”

I rolled my eyes, a gesture lost in the
dark of the car. “Keep going,” I grumbled, reaching for the radio. I knew
better than to change the station from the country one Joshua favored, and
though I would never admit it to him, it was growing on me the more I listened
to it, but some background music was what was needed now. I was also hoping Joshua
would sing along too.

* * *

The trip was uneventful until we crossed
into Texas. By this point, we had made time, with most of the traffic
disappearing from the roads as we passed Lafayette – rush hour being over and
commuters arriving home. It was just after ten when we arrived in Houston, the
traffic picking up despite the time. Although Darell lived near Memorial Park,
Joshua had suggested we get a room in a more central location in Houston,
closer to where he worked, as it would be easier to catch him there than at
home in the morning.

I didn’t object as we pulled up outside a
24-hour superstore, blinking from the bright lights of the parking lot. It
hadn’t stopped raining, and combined with the lack of need to refill the car,
we hadn’t stopped. I was quite happy to get out and stretch my legs – even if
that meant a dash to the doors.

Joshua darted around to my door before I
was barely out of the car, a jacket hovering over his head as he attempted to
shelter us both under it as we ran for the door. It was a pointless effort –
the wind blowing the rain in all directions so that even an umbrella would have
been useless – and I couldn’t help but laugh as I caught our reflections in the
glass of the doors. We were drenched. “Thank you for trying,” I told him,
trying to wipe the water from my bare arms.