Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) (19 page)

“I really didn’t think anyone would get
hurt,” Ty said, although he refused to look at me. “And I really don’t know
much more than what you do.”

“But you do know something else?” I pried.

“Since Michael died, my dad and Asmodeus
won’t discuss business in the house anymore. I don’t think they trust me
either. The
only
other thing I know is that whatever’s there,” he
finally met my eyes, “It’s dangerous, and a lot of people are going to get
hurt.”

“More than the drinking population of
Louisiana?” I scoffed.

“I think this one could involve kids,” Ty
said.

“What the hell is your dad into?” I asked
in disgust, all kinds of thoughts going through my mind.

Ty was back to staring at Jackson’s statue.
“Dad’s never done anything involving children before. Evil as he is, he has
always
done what he can to make sure no minors get into his bars.”

“Let’s give him a round of applause for
being such a morally upstanding citizen,” I sneered, clapping as I spoke. “And
here’s me wondering why he never got that humanitarian award.”

“You need to stop him,” Ty said.
“Asmodeus, I mean. I think if he’s gone, dad will be fine.”

“You and I have two very different
definitions of ‘fine’,” I scoffed, getting to my feet.

Ty jumped to his. “Does this mean you’ll
help?”

“I don’t know about helping,” I said. “But
I will do everything I can to stop children being hurt. I can’t promise what
that means for Terrance.”

Ty nodded glumly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I muttered under my
breath as I walked away. If Beelzebub was up to something nasty involving
children, he deserved everything he got. I was still thinking about what that
was as I hurried to the convent. As I already had parking and didn’t want to
waste any more time trying to navigate the one way streets to get closer to the
convent, I hurried on foot. If I was gone for much longer, I wouldn’t have put
it past Joshua to send out a search party.

I was just one corner away from the Old
Ursuline Convent when a hessian bag was dropped over my head. Again. “Oh, hell
no!” I cried as I felt my feet find themselves on different flooring. I had had
enough of Garret. As soon as the bag was removed from my face and I saw his
smug face in front of me, I swung and punched.

“Not likely, princess,” he scoffed,
deflecting the blow.

“Stop kidnapping me!” I yelled at him,
swinging again.

This time, he caught my fist, and using my
momentum against me, flung me over his shoulder. “Not going to work,” he said,
still smug as he glared down at me.

“Will you two quit fighting?” I heard
Veronica say.

I fought to get the breath he’d knocked
out of me, back in my lungs. “Jerk,” I muttered, not bothering to hide my words
as I rolled onto my knees. The next thing I knew, I was crumpled in a heap
against one of the room’s support pillars, pain exploding through me. He’d
kicked me hard enough in the ribs that I had gone flying halfway across the
room. It didn’t take a doctor to tell me the agony I was experiencing was more
than likely caused by a broken rib and a ruptured lung.

It was only through Michael’s words
suddenly springing to my mind – ‘your vessel does not need to breathe in the
same way your body did’ – that I managed to get to my feet. It hurt like hell,
but realizing I no longer needed air meant I was mobile. My sword was out and I
was charging back across the room as Garret could only stare in a weird
combination of horror and surprise.

My sword never hit him. I swung – I was
out for blood at that point – but this blow was deflected by another sword. Veronica’s
sword. “No!” she cried, spinning and whacking her sword, the wide side of the
blade, down on my wrist, hard enough that I dropped my weapon. “That is
enough!” she bellowed.

I crumpled to the floor, unsure as to
whether I should be nursing my wrist or side as both seemed to be hurting
equally. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, sucking in gasps of air
that were so painful, it had tears appearing in my eyes.

“I will have no more of this,” Veronica
said. I was unsure if she was addressing me or Garret.

“Then leave me the hell alone,” I snapped.
“Stop kidnapping me, and just leave me alone.”

Veronica’s expression softened. “We can’t
leave you alone, but we will stop kidnapping you, and we will stop attacking
you,” she said, apparently using the royal ‘we’ as she sent death glares
rivaling my own to Garret. “Won’t we?”

Garret, the smug rat, shrugged.
“Whatever.”

Veronica whirled around and smacked him
upside the head, not holding back on her strength. “Garret, enough is enough.
It’s not Angel who needs to take a vow, it’s you. Now take one, or
I’ll
swear to God and you’ll be done.”

They engaged in a glaring competition,
until finally, like the petulant teenager he invoked, he stamped his foot and
folded his arms, glaring at me. “Fine. I swear to God I will not kidnap you
anymore.”

“And,” Veronica prompted, although it came
out as a growl.

“And I swear to God that I will not cause
any further injury to you,” he spat, like the words were leaving a bad taste in
his mouth.

“Now get out,” Veronica commanded.

With one last glare which had me thinking
he would have broken his vow had it actually caused the damage he seemed to
want it to, Garret disappeared, leaving us alone.

With a pained gasp, I fell back so I was
sitting more comfortably on the floor. Or at least as comfortably as I could be
considering I could barely breathe and I was also registering the fact my back
really
hurt. Being an angel sucked. Okay, being thrown around and injured as much as I
had been sucked. Being an angel meant I was lucky that I could survive this
without needing a hospital visit, but yeah, it still hurt.

“Here,” Veronica said, swooping down to
help me up.

I jerked back. “Just leave me alone,” my
words sounding more forceful than they probably should have done. I really was
in pain.

Veronica took a couple of steps back. “I’m
really sorry, Angel.”

“It’s not really you who should be
apologizing,” I pointed out. “What is his problem?”

Veronica rubbed at her arms as she bit her
lip. “He, uh… he’s a jerk.”

“So is Zachary, but he’s never given me
internal bleeding,” I snarked. “So what the hell gives with him?”

“He has a couple of centuries of pent up
aggression,” she said, waving her arms about. “He’s been telling Michael that Lucifer
wasn’t dead since, well, long before people thought the world was flat and was at
the center of the universe.”

“So why does he think that he can just
throw me around? Literally,” I added.

“I think he’s upset that you changed
Michael’s mind in mere weeks of being here.”

With considerable effort, I managed to
stand, and glared at her. “Again I ask, what makes him think it’s okay to
attack me?”

“Well you did attack him first,” Veronica
said, once again awkwardly rubbing at her arms. I narrowed my eyes and glowered
at her. She was hiding something, and damnit, I was going to find out what it
was. I waited, impatiently, until finally, she sighed. “He blames you,” she
admitted.

“For what?” No sooner had the words left
my mouth, I knew: Michael.

“He thought that Michael would be the only
one who would be able to stop Lucifer again,” she said quickly, as though
trying to justify her confession.

“He wasn’t the only one,” I muttered to
myself.

“I don’t think Michael’s the only one who
can stop him,” Veronica said.

I looked up and found her staring at me,
but her eyes were full of determination instead of remorse. “Why do I get the
feeling that you’re not going to tell me anymore?”

“I made a vow,” she shrugged.

“Oh, for the love of God, I’m so done with
this crap,” I muttered, heading to the door – there was a lift, but there was
nothing that would make me risk using it in this building. I wondered why
Veronica didn’t try to stop me until I opened the door to the stairwell… and
discovered there was at least one flight of stairs missing. “Are you kidding
me?” I cried (then winced at the effort) as I whirled around to face Veronica.

“We needed to make sure no-one would come
up and find us. We can all just-” She disappeared, and then reappeared a few
feet closer to me. “You know?”

“You know,” I mimicked, with a similar
shrug of my shoulders, only it was more of a grunt of pain than a wince, which
followed. “The thing I can’t do because I’m only an
angel
.” Seeing as
doing anything was hurting me, I shuffled over to a chair and eased myself down
into it. “So not only are you kidnapping me, you’re holding me against my
will.”

“No!” she objected. “I can take you to the
convent any time you want.”

I gave her a pointed look.

“I will!” she said, folding her arms and
pouting at me. “I just need you to listen first.”

Partly because I was tired of this
nonsense, partly because it hurt too much to do anything else, I leaned back in
the chair. “What?”

“Have you had any luck with Lucifer?” she
asked.

“Are you serious?” I asked her. When she
nodded, I had to count to ten before speaking, and even then, the words were
strained as I spoke them. “Veronica, in the ten days since we last had this
conversation, no I have not ‘had any luck’ with Lucifer. I have barely thought
about him as I have been trying to deal with Michael’s death; with suddenly
being put in charge of a House I have no idea how to run; with trying to deal
with Cupid who is as pissed off at the situation as I am; with many other
things more important than Lucifer.”

“Lucifer is dangerous,” Veronica said,
solemnly, clearly not picking up on the fact I was doing my best to control the
anger which had certainly been getting the better of me recently.

“Lucifer is not in New Orleans,” I calmly
pointed out. “And if he is, he is keeping his head down. Until he pops up, I
have more pressing issues caused by the likes of Asmodeus. Unless you have
anything further you would care to share about Lucifer, then I suggest you
change the subject.”

“I can’t share with you that information
until you make a vow,” she cried in exasperation.

She wasn’t the only one getting
frustrated. “It’s not happening, Veronica,” I told her. “I’m done with all the
secrets and half-truths. If there’s something that I can’t share with someone,
then I need to be the one to make that decision. If you and the cherubim don’t
like that, then that’s fine. I don’t care. More importantly, I’m done having
this conversation. If you want to be useful, you can tell me about what kind of
trap can keep an angel prisoner.”

She blinked at me a few times then.
“Traps? You’re not trapped.”

I let out a long breath. “So you say, but
that’s not what I’m talking about. Michael died because he was stuck in a trap.
I want to know what kind of trap that was, and more importantly, how do you I
get someone out of that trap?”

Veronica looked puzzled as she shook her
head. “There’s no such thing. Angels can’t be trapped.”

“Michael was,” I corrected her. “I don’t
think he would have stayed in the path of an oncoming train unless he was
unable to move from in front of it.”

“No, really, they don’t exist. Angels
can’t be trapped.”

With a sigh, I lowered my gaze to the floor.
“Take me home, Veronica,” I requested quietly. “Joshua will be wondering where
I am.” Veronica didn’t say another word. Instead, she walked over and clamped
her hand on my shoulder. The next thing I knew, I was alone, sitting on a bench
in the convent gardens.

Knowing that Joshua really would be
concerned about me, I headed inside. I didn’t know where anyone was, and at
that point I didn’t care. I went straight to my room and gingerly stripped of
my clothes so I could examine myself in the bathroom mirror. While there wasn’t
anything visible on my face, somehow, my back, side, front and one of my legs
had turned into one ugly purpling bruise. At least it was a sign of healing. I
had a few scrapes on my arms, but they were already looking in a much better
state.

Wearily, I returned to the bedroom and
pulled out the only summer dress I had. There was nothing I could do about the
bruise poking out below the knee-length skirt, but I pulled a sweater on to
cover the marks on my arms. Finally, I pulled the dagger and phone from my
trousers. The dagger I hid under the skirt, choosing to strap it to my
unbruised thigh. The phone, after quickly responding to Joshua’s texts, I
tucked into my bra. Then, with still no one around, I left the convent and
hurried back to the car.

Despite taking less time to get to
Maggie’s then I had predicted in the text, Joshua was waiting outside for me.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, running over to help me out of the
car. The pain had certainly subsided, but I was still feeling stiff and sore.

“Do we have time, or is Maggie going to
wonder what we’re doing out here?” I asked him.

“I don’t really give a crap,” he said as
he put his hands on my waist.

It wasn’t a forceful action by any means,
but I was apparently much more tender than I first thought and I recoiled from
his touch. “Sorry,” I winced.

“Angel, what the hell?” he demanded, his
voice growing hoarser. We certainly made an interesting pair. He finally caught
sight of the bruise that was poking out from under the skirt and started to
lift the fabric. “Angel, what the hell?” he repeated, only this time, it came
out much squeakier.

“Not here,” I hissed, my hand clamping
around his to stop the skirt going any higher. “Your neighbors!”

Joshua’s lips disappeared into a thin
line, but he let go. Instead, his hand wrapped around mine and he led me into
the house. No sooner had the door closed, then a short, gray-haired woman
materialized from the kitchen. Her eyes twinkled at me and she hurried over,
placing herself between Joshua and me so she could envelop me in a hug.
Thankfully, I was a whole head taller than her so she didn’t see my gasp.
Joshua did and his eyes narrowed.

“Angel dear, you look lovely,” Maggie told
me, stepping back to look me up and down. “I’m so glad you could come.”

“Thank you for having me,” I responded,
politely. “I hope you haven’t gone to too much trouble. Is there anything I can
do to help?” I asked, aware that it earned me a glare from Joshua.

“Not at all,” Maggie assured me. “I did
most of the preparation yesterday. Just the pecan pie to finish while the
turkey is roasting. Besides, it’s yours and Joshua’s job to do the dishes
afterwards,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Why don’t you and Joshua go finish
watching the end of the parade? Dinner will be another forty minutes.”

“Actually, I’m going to show Angel my
room,” Joshua said.

Maggie turned back to him and tilted her
head. I watched as a mischievous smile appeared on her face. “Show her your
bedroom? Is that what you young folks call it these days?”

Appropriate timing or not, I couldn’t help
but be amused at how quickly Joshua’s face went red (even if mine was doing the
same thing). “That’s not… Maggie, we’re not…” he said, all flustered as he
tried to find the words.

“Of course not, dear,” she said. “You two
go have fun in the bedroom. I’ll be in the kitchen. I’ll even turn the radio
up.” With another wink, she sauntered back into the kitchen and closed the door
behind her. Moments later, we could hear Elvis filtering through into the hallway.

“Wow,” I laughed.

“I am never going to hear the end of
that,” Joshua muttered, glancing back at the door behind him with a sigh. When
he looked back at me, his face took on a more serious expression. Clearly on a
mission, he took my hand once more and led me further into the house.

Maggie lived in a large single-story,
ranch-style home in Jefferson. Maggie was Joshua’s godmother, and the woman who
had taken him in after his mother had left and his father had died. They
weren’t related, but I knew that Joshua adored her, even if she was anything
but subtle when it came to her opinions on his life.

I’d been to Maggie’s only a handful of
times yet I had never seen Joshua’s bedroom. He’d only spent some of his high
school years living here, but I really was curious about it. I stepped in and
looked around. It was a decent size, especially as there was only a single bed
in the corner, topped with a – I grinned – plaid comforter. Short of a couple
of tokens of his support for the Saints, and two car posters on the wall, it
was surprisingly sparse.

“Is the reason you look like a walking
bruise the same as why you were at the Plaza Tower?” Joshua demanded, as he
pushed the door closed.

I whirled around and found him staring at
me, his arms folded across his chest, like he was doing everything he could not
to touch me. “The Plaza Tower?” I asked.

“You were gone a long time and not
responding to my calls,” he said. “I got worried and used my Find My Angel
app.”

There was no such thing as a Find My Angel
app. He had simply tracked my phone. I know I should have felt weird about
that, but I didn’t. I mean, this was only the second time he’d used it, and I
had been gone a while. Besides, I had him permanently LoJacked with my own
angelic tracking system, so it was only fair. Currently, I was staring at him
in awe. I would never have thought to do that and now I knew where the cherubim
were hiding. Knowing that would annoy Garret made me exceptionally happy. I
bounded over to Joshua and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You are a genius,” I
told him.

“No, I’m a concerned boyfriend,” he
corrected me, worry lines showing around his eyes. “Angel, why are you
injured?”

I took a step back. “I had a run in with
the cherubim.”

Joshua’s concern melted into confusion.
“The cherubim? As in Veronica? The angels who left the convent? They did this?”

As I nodded, I could see Joshua’s hands
curling into fists. “Not Veronica. It was Garret. He’s an asshat.”

I could see the tension in his jaw. “Show
me,” Joshua requested, quietly. It took me a second to process what he was
asking of me before I lifted the skirt. Only an hour had passed since I had
sustained the injuries, but the bruises were already looking better than
Joshua’s. “All of it,” Joshua added.