Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) (20 page)

I stared at him, feeling like a deer
caught in headlights. All of it involved taking the dress off. “It’s really not
that bad,” I tried to assure him. “It’s already healing.”

“Please,” he said, his voice low and
raspy.

He had that look in his eyes which said he
wasn’t going to drop it, which meant he probably didn’t have a clue how bad,
and how much of me, it covered. “Fine.” I stepped back towards the bed pulling
the sweater of and dropping it on the comforter. With one swift movement, the
dress followed. I turned back to Joshua as soon as I heard his sharp intake of
breath.

“He’s dead,” Joshua growled, looking like
he was ready to storm out of there and murder the cherub.

“You’re slightly more breakable than I
am,” I pointed out. “If he touches me again, he’ll fall anyway.”

“That is not doing anything to convince me
not to break his neck,” Joshua informed me. He took two strides to me, his face
like thunder as he examined the injuries.

I looked down myself. It really was
looking better already, even if the inside wasn’t. That wasn’t fair – I guess
the inside was healing just as fast, but there were more extensive injuries to
heal. The bruises would probably be gone before it stopped hurting to breathe.

Hesitantly, Joshua’s hands reached for me,
tracing the mottled blues and greens around my side. I flinched. Not because it
hurt – he was barely touching me – but because it tickled. Joshua’s hand shot
back. “Sorry!”

“It doesn’t hurt,” I quickly told him. The
look he gave me told me he didn’t believe that for the second. “Okay, it hurts
like hell,” I admitted. “But you touching me: that doesn’t hurt.” I looked back
down. In the dull light of the bedroom, my skin was more blue than anything and
a strange image appeared in my mind. “You know, a few more square feet of this
and I’d look like Mystique.” When that didn’t get the response I was hoping
for, I figured he maybe wasn’t up on his movies. “The blue woman in X-Men who
can make herself look like anyone else when she isn’t wandering around naked?”

“No more bruises,” Joshua said. Just like
that, his bedroom eyes made an appearance. If I wasn’t completely distracted by
the fact that I was standing in front of him in only my underwear and a dagger,
and this was the first time he’d ever seen me with so little clothing on, then
I might have found it amusing. Instead, my throat had suddenly gone bone dry,
and I was regretting not picking a sexier set of underwear – or at least one
that matched.

Well hell, I was only young once.
Mentally, at least. I don’t know if it was conscious or instinctive, but I
swallowed my nerves and grabbed him by his cardigan, and tugged him towards me.
He didn’t resist in the slightest. He followed me as I led him backwards, until
my legs banged into the side of his bed. His hands shot around my waist to
steady me causing me to gasp at the touch of his cold fingers on my
surprisingly hot skin.

He swore and let go of me. “Sorry!” he
hissed.

“I’m not,” I assured him, reaching for his
hands and putting them back on me.

That was all it took. Joshua’s hands
skimmed over me, up my body and under my arms to where there was the least
amount of bruising, so he could lift me back onto the bed. Then his lips sought
mine and the hard lines of his body were pressed down over my softer curves.

I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. I just
felt good, heat radiating through me. Joshua turned his attention to my
collarbone and I took the opportunity to get his cardigan off him. The
turtleneck soon followed, and then Joshua’s mouth was back on mine.

There was a loud knock at the door and we
leaped apart from each other like a current had passed through us. “Just a ten-minute
warning,” Maggie called through the door. I swear I could hear amusement in her
voice.

We lay on the bed, frozen until the door
from the kitchen had closed and Elvis’ voice had become muffled once more. How
had we missed that? With an exhalation of breath, Joshua collapsed onto his
back and groaned. “We still have ten minutes,” I suggested, wanting the heat of
him back.

Joshua was back over me, but this time his
kisses were long and slow, and his hands were being annoyingly well behaved. He
pulled away and stared down at me, his eyes dark. “You deserve much better than
ten minutes,” he told me, firmly.

“Oh I really don’t,” I objected, as my
arms reached up, trying to pull him back to me.

His lips quirked up into a smile before he
used them to kiss the tip of my nose. Then, with regret in his eyes, he pulled
out of my grasp and sat up next to me. “Never have I wanted to pass on a cooked
meal more,” he muttered, running a hand over his face.

“I would have no objections,” I told him.
When he looked at me, torn, I sighed. “No, we’re not going to do that to
Maggie, much as I want to.” Reluctantly, I got up and reached for my dress,
pulling it on.

“You might need this too,” Joshua said,
sheepishly, as he handed me my sweater.

Slowly, I took it from him. “Why…?” My
free hand flew to my neck, patting it down. “Joshua?” I cried. When he gave me
an impish smile, I stormed over to the mirror. “You branded me!” I cried in
horror, looking at the ugly purple mark on my collar bone. When Joshua’s
reflection merely smirked at me, I turned around and glared, thrusting my arms
into the sweater’s sleeves. “It’s a good job I love you, Joshua Walsh, because
that’s not cool. I can’t believe you gave me a hickey.”

Before I had finished speaking, he was in
front of me. “What did you say?”

I pointed at the hickey. “Not. Cool.”

“Before that.”

“Oh, I said I love you, though I’m currently
wondering why,” I grumbled. “I would have said it sooner but I didn’t want you
to think I was only saying it because you said it to me.”

“Only you could be grumpy because you love
me,” he chuckled.

I glared up at him. “I’m grumpy because
you branded me!”

“I love you too, darlin’,” Joshua said,
his bedroom eyes back.

I took a step back and gave him my best
innocent expression. “Shame we only have two minutes, isn’t it?” I asked,
rhetorically. Then, I smiled. “But I do love you,” I added.

I headed straight to the kitchen. “Is
there anything I can do?” I asked her, glancing around. Maggie was busy at the stove,
dishing up greens into a serving bowl, which was when I caught my reflection in
the oven window. I’d been so focused on the damn hickey that I’d paid no
attention to my hair. It was ruffled to say the least.

I hurried to flatten it, but Maggie
turned, saw what I was doing, and gave me a knowing smile. “You can put these
on the table,” she said, handing me the bowl. I took them, eager to be doing
anything else as I waited impatiently for Joshua to join me in the awkwardness.

Maggie seemed oblivious as she carried
over more bowls – I wasn’t even sure where she was going to fit them on the
table as every inch was covered in food. Once again, it looked like she was
cooking for at least double the amount, but the place settings confirmed it
would just be the three of us.

Finally, just as Maggie and I sat, Joshua
appeared. He had taken the time to straighten his hair, but his cheeks were
still flushed and his lips swollen. Lord, it was more than obvious what we had
been doing.

Maggie didn’t say anything though and I
decided that focusing on the food might give my own skin the opportunity to
cool down. As far as turkeys go, the one Maggie had cooked was a small one, but
it was still big enough that it would make sandwich fillings for at least a
week. Surrounding it were at least four different kinds of potatoes, countless
vegetables, cranberry sauce, gravy, fresh cornbread… I was glad I’d chosen a
dress which flared out with an empire waistline.

The centerpiece, however, was a homemade
autumnal tree, but in amongst the leaves were photographs. I recognized some
faces – Joshua’s family was in there, as was Maggie’s husband – the rest, I
assumed were other members of Maggie and Joshua’s family.

“My family,” Maggie confirmed. “Some by
blood, some by choice. Some with their own families, and some no longer here,
but they’re the things I’m most thankful for ever having in my life.”

“I think that’s something we all agree
on,” Joshua said. I nodded my agreement, my own thoughts on my parents and
Michael. He raised his glass. “To our loved ones.”

Maggie and I joined him in the toast
before tucking in. The food was delicious, but the atmosphere in the room had
stepped into somber. Eventually, Maggie set her cutlery down. “Is that all
you’re thankful for?” she asked, her mouth twitching into a smile.

“Of course not,” Joshua said, slowly. He,
like me, seemed to be trying to work out where she was leading with the
question. “Friends, family, a roof over my head, a job, the ability to pay my
bills and still enjoy life, my good looks-”

“Your undying modesty,” I cut in.

“My education, Dave…” he finished after
smirking at me.

“Oh,” Maggie said, blinking with feigned
innocence. “Are bedrooms not included on that list?”

Joshua dropped his fork, but the
clattering was drowned out by me choking on a piece of asparagus. “Maggie!” he exclaimed,
as mortified as I was.

I hurriedly reached for a glass of water,
wishing the ground would swallow me up.

* * *

The back of the car was full of food. Just
looking at it had me feeling nauseous as I had certainly eaten more than I
really should have, once my embarrassment had died down. We’d survived the
dinner with Maggie not realizing I was injured, and only commenting on Joshua’s
rasping voice, which he somehow managed to convince her was due to the remnants
of a cold. After doing the dishes we’d watched a movie with Maggie, and then
she had insisted on Joshua taking all the leftovers. He hadn’t protested once –
that was his meals taken care of for at least a week.

“You never said why you were at the
Plaza,” Joshua said, suddenly. “We got a little distracted.”

“Like hell I know,” I said, wearily. “In
all the times I’ve been there, I’ve yet to find out.”

“How many times have you been there?”
Joshua asked me sharply. “How many times has that happened to you?”

“I’ve been there three times now, but that’s
the first time anything like that has happened,” I said quickly, trying to
reassure him. “They’ve wasted that much time trying to be all secretive about
where their Bat Cave is that I’ve never learned much more than that.”

“Angel, I swear if that cherub has hurt
you before, I will kick his ass,” Joshua ground out.

“And thus, the mystery of why you need a
guardian angel is solved,” I muttered, not thinking as I spoke.

“He
has
hurt you!” Joshua cried,
gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles went white.

“Okay,” I said, holding my hands up.
“Firstly, you need to calm down before your blood pressure makes your throat
swell up. Secondly, No. No he hasn’t hurt me, he’s just a grade A douchebag and
I have no idea how he’s still got his wings.” The grip on the steering wheel
lessened. Sweet as it was that Joshua was prepared to defend my honor, he stood
no chance against Garret. Whatever internal injuries I’d sustained were
evidence enough of that. “The cherubim have moved into one of the upper floors
of the Plaza Tower, judging from the view. Well, I assume all of them are
there. I’ve only ever seen half of them, but as they’re very good at kidnapping
me the moment I step out of the convent, I wouldn’t be surprised if the other
half were out in the city staking out Bee’s or the precinct. Hell, they could
well be trying to work out where Lucifer is.”

“Kidnapping?” Joshua repeated, somehow
staying calm.

I could have kicked myself. “They have got
it in their heads that no one can know where they are, but I have no idea why.
When they want me, they get me. They don’t ask, they just stick a bag over my
head so I can’t see anything, and then the next thing I know, I’m in their
base. The effort has earned Garret at least one bloody nose,” I added.

“That’s my girl,” Joshua said, proudly.

“The best I can figure is that it’s
something to do with Lucifer.” When Joshua didn’t respond I looked over at him,
and found him staring grimly at the traffic. “What’s the matter?”

“I keep forgetting about Lucifer,” he
muttered.

“There’s been that much going on, I’ve
been living with the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ theory. I’m hoping we can
resolve our problems with the other Fallen in the city before we have to take
on the King of Hell.”

Joshua let out a long breath. “Do you remember
when the world was much simpler and angels and fallen angels were things of
stories?” It wasn’t long ago that I had been human, but it felt like centuries
had passed since I had been part of that oblivious world.

* * *

“Paddy, one day I will possess as much
skill as you,” I grunted as I rolled over onto my knees and then to my feet.
“And on that day, I will kick your butt in repayment for all the bruises you’ve
given me.”

It was Friday morning and life had
continued on as normal in the convent. I’d discovered, upon my return the
previous night, that although the angels had never celebrated thanksgiving
before, Sarah had insisted they also prepare a feast. Not one to turn my aunt’s
cooking down, I’d had another gluttonous meal before retiring to my room in a
food coma.

This morning, giving myself my own
penance, I had set myself going on the treadmill – even though I had no need to
worry about things like weight gain and clogged arteries – and had run for an
hour,
before
I went and started on my cleaning duties. Without a break,
I’d returned to the gym to get an even worse workout from Paddy. She was
relentless.

“I prefer payment in the form of cash, check,
or gift cards; specifically, Amazon gift cards,” she taunted in her thick,
Scottish brogue. “But don’t worry, you have plenty of time to source that.”

I narrowed my eyes, but instead of
commenting, I launched an attack on her. The action surprised her, but as
always, she recovered quickly, blocking each blow that I rained down on her.
Just when I thought I was getting the upper hand and charged, she dropped to a
crouch and I went sailing over the top of her, face-planting the mat.

“That looks tasty,” Joshua’s voice carried
across the room, a slight rasp remaining.

“You’re early,” I grunted, rushing to get
my things in order so I could hide my embarrassment.

“Hey, you were doing pretty good up until
then,” he offered, trying to be helpful.

I just grunted again, and turned back to
Paddy, who was waiting patiently. “We can finish up here. I’ll keep waiting on
those gift cards.”

My response was delayed by Joshua’s phone
bleeping at him. He pulled it out and frowned. “Leon’s checking I’m back in
today,” he said, after reading the text. “There’s been a murder.”

“Thank you, Paddy,” I said. “I’ll see you
tomorrow.” She nodded her head and left the gym. Before she could close the
door and I could question Joshua further, Nyle hurried into the room, looking
worried. “Nyle? Is everything alright?”

“I was just wondering if you’d seen
Eugene?” he asked, looking around as though he was expecting him to be in here
with us.

The last place I’d ever expect to find
Eugene was in the gym. I shook my head. “Not since breakfast. Didn’t he say
something about us needing more chili peppers for the sweet chili chicken?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t come back yet,” Nyle
said, his face drawn with worry.

That was three hours ago. Even if he’d
gone for supplies for the rest of the week he’d be back by now. “No, but Cupid
has the psychic connection, right? Maybe we should talk to him?” I suggested.

Nyle chewed at his lip. “Okay.”

“If you’re worried about getting him in
trouble, why don’t you give it another hour? Or speak to Sarah. She may have
asked him to run a few errands for her while he was out?” I offered, hoping I
was being helpful. Nyle looked dubious, but he nodded and left, leaving Joshua
and I alone. “I need a shower. I’ll be quick,” I promised him.

“
Cupid?
” I called, on my way up to
my room.

“
Angel?
” he responded.

“
Do me a favor and turn on your LoJack
for Eugene?
”

There was a moment’s pause. “
He’s on
the corner of Royal and St. Peter’s. Why?
”

There was grocery store there. “
No
emergency,
” I assured him. “
Nyle was wondering where Eugene went. Seems
like he’s running an errand for my aunt.
” Knowing that Eugene would be back
soon, I hurried on to have the quick shower I’d promised. The advantage of
having hair that was permanently one style, was that I could leave it wet and
know it wasn’t going to frizz up.

We were at the crime scene in under an
hour. We parked up outside the Municipal Auditorium – one of the many buildings
which had been damaged during Hurricane Katrina but had taken until late last
year before anyone had done anything with it. Now it was undergoing a huge
restoration process so it remained empty and not a stop for many tourists. However,
the park it was built in was. Just on the border of the Quarter, located in
Tremé, was the Louis Armstrong Park.

As we walked around the building, I
discovered that the victim had been murdered in Congo Square, an area directly
adjacent to the Municipal Auditorium. Congo Square was a large open space, the
ground made up of bricks laid in a swirling pattern. Once upon a time, the Jazz
Fest had been held there until it moved to the race course. Now, Congo Square’s
busiest day was a Sunday.

Except today. Today there were all kinds
of onlookers swarming around, trying to see past the crime scene tape which
held them back at the trees around the perimeter. We ducked under and I
followed Joshua to where Leon was waiting with the body.

Leon gave me a surprised look. “Is he one
of you?” he asked.

My attention shot to the nearby police
officer who seemed close enough to hear the conversation, but was currently
busy looking through the nearby bushes. “By one of me, you mean a college
student?” I asked. The victim, a young man, looked like he could have passed
for college age, though I had my doubts. The overalls he was wearing were
covered in oil and grime, as well as the dark bloodstain pooled around his
neck, now almost dry in the midday heat.

Leon’s eyes went wide before he too looked
at the nearby officer. “According to the victim’s driving license, he’s
Alexander Ramsey. We’ve also got a work ID for the Port.”

I knew what Leon was implying as that wave
of grief crashed over me. “Michael,” I started, and then, remembering the
nearby officer, stopped. Leon nodded and led us away to a spot far enough that
nobody could overhear us. “The person… the fallen angel who killed Michael is
dead,” I said, the words coming out quick and thick. “His body was destroyed. I
don’t know who that guy is, but he had nothing to do with Michael’s death.”