Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) (4 page)

BOOK: Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3)
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Savannah let out an impatient sigh and
dragged her eyes over to this other angel. “You have something to add, Gabriel?”

Holy cow!
This was Gabriel?
The
Gabriel?
Don’t get me wrong, he had a friendly looking face and warm sky blue eyes, but
I was expecting a serene, non-threatening messenger, not someone who looked
like he could hold his own with Michael, Raphael and Cupid. It was stupid of me,
really, considering that they were all archangels.

“Zachary, you really need to lighten up.
Angel and Veronica have done this in the most technologically advanced age yet.
They’ve both got a long way to go before they obtain the same level of fame as
Michael and I,” he grinned.

Savannah’s eyes narrowed. “You were both
sent to those humans. Angel and Veronica were not,” she told him, saying our
names like they were creating a bitter taste in her mouth.

“And as we were discussing before she
walked into this room, the action was not planned,” Gabriel pointed out. “So,
why don’t you just get to the point and stop dragging this out.”

Savannah and Zachary shared a look. “Very
well,” Zachary said, turning to Michael. “The virtues are not convinced of your
leadership abilities. You are in charge of all the angels, archangels, and
cherubim on earth, tasked with protecting mankind in secret. Under your watch,
you have had one archangel conspire with the Fallen to orchestrate the killings
of numerous potentials; your latest recruit has announced the existence of us
to the humans – regardless of whether it was intentional or not – after
thousands of years of being able to walk amongst them in secrecy; the cherubim
have deserted you and set up their own faction; and both Beelzebub and Asmodeus
are here in this city. Far from protecting the humans, you have put a giant
target over New Orleans.”

For the whole speech, Michael hadn’t
moved. He hadn’t even blinked. Even now, it was impossible to read any emotion
on him.

“You’ve been waiting centuries for that,
haven’t you, Zachary?” Gabriel said, taking a few steps to join Michael’s side.
“When are you going to get over the fact that Grace wanted you to stay in
heaven and Michael in charge on earth?”

“This is nothing to do with jealousy,”
Savannah was quick to interject. “Michael has a role and he’s not performing.”

“According to you,” Michael said, slowly,
finally responding. “I have been to Grace and she is aware of what has been
happening here. She has also been informed of how I intend on righting this
situation. Now, unless you have something to add from Grace herself, I think it
is time you both vacated my House.”

Both Zachary and Savannah straightened
their posture at Michael’s words. “You need to get your House in order,”
Savannah sniffed. “We came here to warn you that there will be consequences,
but it is up to you to hear that warning and act before it is too late.”

“Michael is not the only one who must
think of the consequences of their choices,” Zachary added, directing the
comment at me. The next moment, the pair of them had disappeared.

“You leave them alone in Heaven for a
couple of centuries and power they don’t even have goes to their head,” Gabriel
muttered, clapping Michael’s shoulder, sympathetically. “We should get one of
the dominations to have a conversation with them.”

“There is truth to their words, and they
have Heaven’s best interest in mind,” Michael responded, surprisingly
diplomatically.

“Doesn’t mean they have to be the biggest
jerks about it,” I muttered under my breath.

Gabriel finally turned to me, smiling. “So
you’re the new recruit I’ve heard so much about,” he said.

“It’s not all true,” I said, remembering
the videos I had just watched. “Well, some of it is, but I’m not the same
person I was when I was alive,” I shrugged, wearily. It was only mid-morning
and I was already exhausted.

“You should consider training to become a
virtue instead of an archangel,” Gabriel declared, before turning to Michael. “I
have a meeting with Francesco in a few minutes, and have several other
appointments this afternoon, but I will return tonight.” He glanced back at me,
nodded his head, and then disappeared.

The room was suddenly very empty. I gave
Michael an awkward smile. “I’m sorry you got told off because of me.”

“That was not a reprimand,” Michael
responded wearily. “That was a warning; a warning that is well intended. The
words Zachary spoke were the truth.” He turned his back to me and walked around
to the other side of his desk to sit.

I watched him, chewing my lip. He really
did look tired. I wasn’t helping here. The best thing for me to do was keep my
head down. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” I said.

Although he nodded a response, his
attention was elsewhere. He didn’t seem to acknowledge me leaving the room as I
ducked out.

I walked down the stairs, surprised at how
angry I was getting with every step. Angry at Zachary and Savannah who had
appeared and judged me with no real understanding of what had happened that
night.

Yet the brunt of my anger was directed at
myself. A lot of what they had said had been true, and none of it would have
happened if I had thought before acting. Michael was bearing all the
responsibility, and yet it was wrongly placed. Yes, I needed to keep my head
down, but I also needed to step up and own my actions. I needed to prove that I
should be here, and more importantly, it was time to stop Michael taking all
the blame.

I wasn’t sure how I was going to
accomplish that, but I was sure that I was going to think first and act later.
I was going to come up with a plan and I was going to try to think of all the
possible outcomes before I acted – like I was playing a game of chess.

The question was, what piece was I?

CHAPTER FOUR
La Douleur Exquise

 

My aunt was settling into her bedroom
while I was cleaning up after lunch. I was up to my elbows in soapy water,
singing along (only slightly off key!) to the radio. The kitchen had an
industrial dishwasher, but I had learned that it didn’t work on the bigger pans,
so elbow grease it was. I rinsed off the pot I had been scrubbing and turned to
place it in the draining rack, then let out a startled squeak as it fell from
my hands. Before it hit the floor, Michael had caught it. “Thank you,” I said,
as he set it in the rack.

“I never thanked you,” Michael said,
softly.

“What for?” I asked him, suspiciously as I
reached for a towel and dried my hands off.

Michael gestured to the sink. “For this.
You have taken on the role of the cherubim without hesitation.”

I pulled a face. “There’s no need to thank
me for the same three meals.”

“They are meals nonetheless,” Michael
disagreed. “It is not just the meals. I am aware that you’re trying to keep on
top of the communal areas, unaided. We angels have allowed ourselves to become
complacent and expect that someone else will do the work.” He took a few steps back.
“I am also aware that only your archery lessons with Cupid have continued since
Halloween as Raphael and I have been occupied with other matters.”

I stood, wringing the towel around my
hands. “That’s kind of understandable,” I told him. Don’t get me wrong, I was
willing – and wanting – to improve my sword skills, but if the other option was
two archangels succeeding in removing two of the Fallen from the city, I’d
rather that option.

“Maybe so,” said Michael. “But it is not
acceptable. There will come a time when you will be an archangel in charge of
your own House.”

I set the towel down on the side before
looking at Michael. “Are you planning on going somewhere?” I asked, remembering
the earlier conversation with the virtues.

“No,” he replied, firmly. “One day, you
will be. When that happens, I want you to be prepared.” He looked into the sink
and at the dirty water. “How much longer will you be?”

“I’m done, why?” I asked him. If he had
walked in even a few seconds later, I would have been pulling the plug out.

“I think now is as good a time as any to
resume your lessons with me.”

I glanced down at myself. I had never
bothered getting changed from earlier, so I was still wearing the skirt and
vest top – not suitable for any form of training Michael had in mind. “Give me
ten minutes to change?”

“You are fine in what you are wearing,” he
said, his eyes skimming up my body. They came to a stop at my head. With a
frown.

I sighed. “I can grab a cap.”

Michael pursed his lips and nodded. “I
think that would be for the best.”

I pulled the plug to allow the water to
drain. “I’ll be five minutes.”

“I’ll be in the parking lot,” he nodded.

I hurried upstairs to retrieve my cap,
pulling my hair back into a ponytail to feed it through the loop. Michael had
never seemed all too happy with the color of my hair; even so, normally I would
be happy not to wear a cap – my ears really stick out when I do – but today, it
seemed like we were staying local. Before I left, I swapped my flip flops for a
pair of red cowboy boots.

When I had gotten back to the convent
earlier, I had taken my sword to the armory. I half considered not collecting
it for this excursion, but quickly changed my mind: it was best to be prepared,
even if I was going somewhere with Michael. I hurried down the corridor to the
armory and pushed the double doors open, making my way to where my sword was
stored. I had grabbed it and hidden it in my boot, when I noticed something was
off about the room. It took me a few moments to work out what it was. There
were a lot of empty spaces – where there had once been shelves and racks of
swords and bows, there were now gaps. I stared at a gap next to my own sword,
frowning. When I had returned it earlier, there hadn’t been a space. I glanced
around. There were certainly fewer weapons than there should have been.


Michael,

I called,
hesitantly. As the archangel of the House, he shared a psychic connection with
the angels which resided in it. He couldn’t read minds, but we could
communicate telepathically. I didn’t like using it – it seemed a little
invasive for me – and on the few occasions when I had, I had always been in the
same room, so I was unsure if it would work.


Angel?
” his response came quickly
and clearly.

“This does work,” I muttered, shuddering. “
I’m
in the armory.


You are. Why?

Having a conversation like this was weird.

Because I refuse to be unprepared if I meet Beelzebub in the street.
” I
frowned, looking around the room again. Under normal circumstances, there were
hundreds of weapons lining the walls – swords, daggers, and bows – now there
were a lot of empty shelves. “
There seems to be a number of weapons missing.

There was a moment’s pause and then I was
joined by Michael. His eyes were instantly scanning the walls and shelves
designed to house enough weapons to lead an army bigger than the numbers that
had ever been in the convent. As he took stock of the missing items, his
expression darkened. “Veronica,” he growled.

“They took their weapons?” I asked,
surprised. “I was in here earlier this morning and there had been nothing
missing then.”

Michael’s face remained stoic, but I could
see the anger in his eyes, and the telltale vein was pulsing at his temple. “I
need to get out of here,” he announced suddenly. He let out an agitated grunt
and stormed out of the room. I hurried after him.

He didn’t stop until we were outside;
standing in front of the small fleet of silver Yukon’s which belonged to the
convent. There was a few missing, but the numbers indicated there were more
angels in the convent than there were out delivering messages. By the time he
turned to face me, his anger levels seemed to have dipped fractionally enough
that the vein was no longer pulsing. He waited for me to catch him up,
examining my outfit.

Michael’s expression told me he wasn’t
really fond of my choice of clothes, but he said nothing. He was still wearing
his immaculate charcoal suit and I did look remarkably casual beside him,
especially considering he was wearing the jacket, despite the early afternoon
heat.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He let out a deep sigh. “Not where I
originally intended,” he responded vaguely. “I need to get away from here.”

Given that he had the ability to take us
to
anywhere
in the world in a blink of an eye, that covered a lot of
potential locations. When he unlocked the SUV we were standing beside, it
confirmed my earlier belief that we were heading to somewhere in the nearby
area. I slid into the passenger seat remaining quiet.

We drove for a while in silence. The
further away from the convent we got, the calmer Michael seemed to get. By the
time we had found a space to park, he seemed much more relaxed. He had taken us
to City Park.

City Park is huge. I know Katrina did a
lot of damage – thousands of trees were pulled down – but the city had been
working hard to replant and restore the area. It’s really quite pretty, and
houses a lot of things ranging from stadiums to stables, a botanical garden to
a golf course. Michael had parked so that when we entered, we were almost
central. I hadn’t been here for a while, but this was where the Couturie Forest
grew.

Even in the summer the park was busy.
There was enough to occupy most people within a short walk, and miles of paths
to follow for exploring. Today it was quiet. The heat seemed to hang in a haze
under the trees and everything looked hot and wilted.

It was a good job that it was quiet,
really. Michael was still wearing the suit jacket and he looked as fresh as if
he was in air conditioning. We walked along one of the trails. It was peaceful.
There was hardly any breeze, so the leaves of the enormous oak trees remained still.
Even the birds and cicadas must have been feeling the heat as they didn’t seem
to be chirping as noisily as they usually did.

“I like it here,” Michael suddenly
announced.

“It’s pretty,” I agreed. I wasn’t really
the outside kind of girl, but this park had an ageless charm. The path turned a
corner, revealing a swing and a vacant fallen tree trunk which had been
fashioned into a bench. Michael walked over to it, lowering himself on it with
a weary sigh. “Are you okay?” I asked him, watching him as he leaned back and
closed his eyes.

“I’m tired,” he admitted.

I sat down next to him and stared out at
the bayou water peaking between the trees and the overhanging Spanish moss. I
pulled my cap off, and tugged the hair tie out of my hair. When I looked to Michael,
I found him watching me. “It makes my ears stick out,” I told him.

“I suspect that’s the last thing people
think when they look at you,” Michael told me.

“No,” I agreed. “I bet they’re trying to
decide if I’m really an angel, or an out of control child who needs to check in
to rehab.”

“I do not think that is the case either,”
Michael said softly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and
sighed. “The cherubim will not return to the convent,” he said, suddenly.

“I don’t think they’d want to,” I said,
thinking of the new base they’d set up somewhere in the city.

“I mean
no
cherubim will return to
the convent. Raphael and Gabriel have both confirmed that the cherubs in their
house were also considering leaving, but both have dissuaded them for now. All
the archangels have confirmed this, and they have also confirmed that none will
relocate to New Orleans. I, like the angels of my house, have become
complacent, allowing the cherubim to perform duties that we were perfectly
capable of doing.”

Cupid hadn’t called them the help for no
reason. They were a twenty-four hour maid service. “You weren’t the only one,”
I told him. I had been there a few months and had found it easy not to pick up
after myself. If Sarah knew how little I had done, she would have thrown a fit.

“Yet you were the first to take on the
role and help. You were the only one to do so,” Michael pointed out. He ran his
hand over his blonde hair. “The goal is for you to one day have your own House.
I had been considering handing over the Old Ursuline Convent to you.”

“You had?” I asked in surprise. I knew
that he did want me to have my own House, but I’d always assumed it would be
somewhere else in the country. “What about you?”

“New Orleans is a,” he frowned. “A hot
spot for the Fallen, it would seem. Leaving you this House would be setting you
up for failure.”

“Not if we manage to take the Fallen out
of the equation before I become an archangel,” I pointed out.

Michael sat back, turning to me. “They are
good angels and will follow instructions. They will be lucky to have you
leading them.”

I frowned. “Have I missed something? Are
you going somewhere? Am I close to becoming an archangel?”

Michael shook his head. “Becoming an
archangel is both simple and complicated. There are certain actions you must
complete, and they are simple enough, but they must be completed with no help
from me. But that is not what I meant.”

Michael: expert at giving vague statements
and advice with no tangible substance. “Then what did you mean?” I stared at
him, chewing at my lip as I tried to work out what he was saying, when I
realized he had changed the way he was looking at me. His expression had
softened and there was something in his gaze that wouldn’t allow me to look
away.

Michael leaned forward. “Is it not
obvious?” he asked, quietly. I was about to shake my head when I realized just
how close he was to me. My mouth dropped open, but before I could say anything,
he closed the distance and kissed me.

His mouth was soft but firm as it moved
against mine, but I was too in shock to reciprocate. Instead I sat, frozen, my
eyes wide. When Michael pulled away, he looked puzzled. “This surprises you?”

Yes… No… A little?

I knew he liked me. Past tense. He’d kissed
me once. Then he’d called it a mistake, apologized and claimed it would never
happen again. When Cupid was living up to his reputation and playing
matchmaker, I thought it was Cupid’s doing, rather than Michael’s. Memories
suddenly flooded my brain: this wasn’t just Cupid. I was just as much at fault
here: I had worked out what Cupid had been doing but not once had I told
Michael that wasn’t how I felt about him – that Cupid was trying to create
something that wasn’t there.

“This can’t happen,” I blurted out as my
cheeks heated up.

“It can’t?” Michael asked, his voice low,
as hurt and confusion filled his eyes. “You don’t feel the same way?”

“I do,” I blurted out. “That’s the
problem.”

“You…” he hesitated. “You love me?”

BOOK: Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3)
2.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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