Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) (31 page)

“We
will be in touch,” Grace announced. Then, as quickly as Zachary and Savannah
had disappeared, so too did Grace and Metatron.

I
sank back into the leather couch and released a long breath. “Wow,” I muttered.
I looked to Cupid. “Do we need to be worried?”

Cupid’s
normal relaxed demeanor was still oozing stress as his back remained straight
and his jaw tense. “No, but it’s going to take some effort to return New
Orleans to normal.”

I
shook my head. “I meant about Raphael. No one has heard from him, right? Don’t
you guys share a connection with Grace?”

“Grace?
Thank goodness, no,” Gabriel said, shuddering. “Archangels share a connection
with the members of their House. We report into Grace, but nothing upwards.
That’s why we hold meetings like we do. I’m sure Raphael is fine. Paddy would
have said something if he hadn’t been in touch.”

“Paddy!”
my eyes went wide. I’ll admit, I had forgotten about Paddy. Paddy, a tiny
Scottish female with long, natural red hair, and better known to the world as
St. Patrick (yes,
the
St. Patrick), was Raphael’s second-in-command of
their House in Dublin. She was Raphael’s partner in every sense of the world. They
had come to New Orleans a couple of months ago, to investigate a lead that
thankfully, had led nowhere. They had both stayed on to help out after the
cherubim had left, until Michael had been killed. Raphael’s way of dealing with
it had been to disappear, leaving Paddy behind. To help us destroy Asmodeus,
she had gone to Australia to see if she could find a lead on just what kind of
trap could keep an angel prisoner.

“I
spoke to Paddy,” Cupid assured me. “She said she will remain in Sydney with
Remiel a while longer. This House isn’t in a state where we can have her here,
anyway.” He looked to Gabriel. “Are you planning on staying?”

 “I
figured I would see what damage the fire had done and see if I could lend my
expertise there,” Gabriel replied.

“You
have experience at cleaning up after a fire?” I asked, dubiously.

Gabriel
half turned on the couch to face me. “No, but I know woodwork and carpentry,
and my guess is you’re going to be have your hands full with the after-mess
that was Asmodeus.”

I
couldn’t help but examine the clothing that Gabriel was wearing. Warrior, yes.
Carpenter, not so much. “Woodwork?” I repeated.

“I
may have spent some time with a carpenter or two,” Gabriel grinned. When the
doubt remained, his grin faded and he looked to Cupid. “Really?”

“I
thought we were doing better,” Cupid sighed in disappointment.

“Oh,
for goodness sake,” I snapped at Cupid. “I am well aware of who Joseph was,
Cupid. What I’m struggling to believe is that even if he devoted his life to
training you,” I gestured at Gabriel, “That you now suddenly know enough to be
able to restore a four hundred year old building.”

“Woah!”
Gabriel protested, holding his hands up. “I said help. Clean up, help out with
a lick of paint… maybe even replace a floorboard or two. Certainly not restore
a convent. You’re going to need professionals for that. Professionals that I’m
happy to help oversee while you two are busy trying to fix everything else.”

“Shall
we see what the damage is?” Cupid suggested.

As
far as the fire department was concerned, this was the first time any of us had
stepped foot in the convent since the fire had been put out four days ago. In
reality, we had returned to the convent shortly afterwards, but only to check
something in the armory. I’d hoped to quell a nagging feeling in the pit of my
stomach, but had instead confirmed something I had been avoiding for weeks.
Along with a large portion of our weapons, Lucifer’s sword had been stolen.
When I had seen the gap on the wall, along with Michael’s sword, now nearly
back to its original white, I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Lucifer
was alive.

I
was also certain that he was using the body of Luke Goddard. Luke Goddard was
the teen pop sensation who was apparently cutting his world tour short and
returning home to Louisiana following a family tragedy. I was willing to bet
that tragedy was Asmodeus’ death.

The
office, which backed onto the library, was mercifully at the other end of the
building to the armory, and had been spared of any fire damage. The heavy oak
doors had been closed at the time, so the worst problem in both the library and
the office was a light, lingering smell of smoke. As soon as we stepped out
into the hallway, our nostrils were assaulted by the charred remains of the far
side of the building. A thin layer of grey ash seemed to cover every available
surface. As we walked down the corridor, our footprints leaving a trail, the
ash was kicked up into the air so I could see the small particles dance in the
sunlight.

It
tickled at my nose and I fought to keep back the sneezes. “Jordan will be
happy,” I muttered to no one but myself as I swiped a finger across the bottom
of a picture frame. The effort turned my fingertip black. “He loves dusting.”

We
passed into the main entrance and the welcome desk Cupid had once favored. The
ash was getting worse, little piles building up in the corners, but so far the
damage was limited. Even the beautiful cypress wood staircase seemed to have
escaped any structural damage. There was evidence of many more footprints here,
but looking at the heavy set prints, it was likely they belonged to the fire
department.

“It’s
going to take more than a duster to clear up this mess,” Gabriel said, blowing
out a breath as he surveyed the area.

The
closer to the armory we got, the more I realized that it wasn’t going to be
just a case of using a bit of elbow grease to clean up. Here things were charred.
Thick black soot lined everything so that it looked like we were walking down
an endless tunnel of darkness. The doors to the armory had been devoured in the
fire. I glanced up and the last remaining shred of optimism disappeared when I
saw through the ceiling of the floor above and the clear blue skies. It was
only the fact that the walls were made of old stone that they were still
standing, but all the woodwork that had been attached to it was gone. “Oh,
hell,” I muttered. I was willing to bet the fire department had given us conditions
to our return to the building, which included not venturing this far down, and
probably a hard-hat. Only the fact that both Cupid and Gabriel had the ability
to zip us out of there in an emergency vanquished the fear that the building
could collapse on us at any moment. “It’s going to take more than a lick of
paint to sort this,” I sighed.

“The
armory took the worst of the damage,” Cupid confirmed. “I spoke to the Fire
Chief. He advised us to keep this whole wing out of bounds until a structural
engineer had been in, but he figured that the engineer would say the same thing
– we’re going to have to lose at least half of the bedrooms while work is
undertaken.”

No
Michael, no cherubim, half a House… we had a huge mess to fix, and that was
before
we looked outside the convent walls. We were in crisis-mode.
 

The hardest part about writing
a book, it turns out, is writing the acknowledgements. I have so many people to
be thankful to that I have to make sure this section doesn’t turn out to be
longer than story while making sure I don’t miss anyone out!

First up is my parents. I’ve
said it before and it is something I will most certainly be saying again and
again, but I have the best parents. As well as being generous and supportive, I
love the fact that I can send random text messages (Dad) which include the
phrase "I'm trying to kill someone", and have a response back without
being alarmed. I love you both.

Becky, it’s here in writing – I
love you. No one else has a sister who will turn up to a book signing, get
distracted by a Star Wars colouring book, and then spend the rest of the time
yelling in the store “Oh my god, is that C. L. Coffey?”

No one else has a cousin like
Vicky who will stand out in the street, trying to get people to come into the
store to a book signing, get mistaken for flogging the Big Issue, yet somehow
have to convince people I’m not the author of Harry Potter (true story) – and
drive for over an hour to get there, all while being ill, and having a mother
who couldn’t do her nails for it! You’re amazing!

Next up is you. Yes, you. You
reading this right now! There aren’t enough thank you’s for you. You stuck with
the story, and you’ve enjoyed it… well, you might not be too happy right now,
but as Michael would say, "Have faith." I hope you will continue with
Angel's journey. Thank you to everyone who has left a review. It still blows me
away to see that people are enjoying this series, and I hope you continue to
enjoy it.

To everyone who came to a book
signing, shared a post on Facebook, or retweeted a Tweet, I say a massive thank
you. Your support really does mean the world to me – without it, I would be
stood in a bookstore by myself, wishing for somebody to like my book. Liking a
post might not seem like much, but it helps so much.

If the hardest part of the
writing process is the acknowledgements, the scariest part is waiting for your
beta readers to feed comments back to you. Until this point, no one has read
the story and waiting for the comments to come back to see if the story is
enjoyed is downright terrifying. Thankfully, I have some of the best beta
readers, who give me brilliant feedback, and also (the important part), are not
afraid to be honest with me. Donna, I don’t know what I would do without you
and your suggestions. I know this story is a good as it is because you’ve
helped flesh it out and give it that extra detail it needed. Kris, your insight
is invaluable and you are always a brilliant sounding board – I'm glad you're
in another time zone so I don't keep waking you up when I need to pick your
brains! The both of you have been with me since the beginning and I can’t
imagine doing this without either of you, either through your support, or your
ideas. An hour long chat with you two, and I know I’m going to be writing for a
couple more years. (At least there was no pregnant robot criminalists this
time!!)

Libby, you’re not here to keep
me company at karaoke (boo!), but even though you are literally on the other
side of the world, you still manage to find a plot hole! Thank you so much for
that. Even more amazing is how you manage to arrange radio interviews for me in
China. Speaking of, isn’t it time you came home?

Rounding things off, is Martin.
You’ve not had the easiest of times recently, but the fact you still find the
time to read and comment floors me. Thank you so much for that. Thank you also
for continuing to give me more ideas to build this world.

Of course, I can’t go any
further without mentioning my beautiful cover. I’m fairly certain I said this
last time, but it certainly doesn’t make this any less true – Amalia, you are an
artistic goddess. I didn’t think you could outdo yourself, but you did. You
have, once again, managed to decipher my somewhat cryptic emails and put up
with my requests for tweaks, and delivered a simply stunning cover image which
perfectly captures the mood of a particular scene. I adore it! Thank you! It is
an absolute pleasure to work with you.

One of the most enjoyable parts
of the process for me is going through the edits with Paddy. I didn’t get the
opportunity to do this, this time. (Australia was apparently more important!).
While I missed that part, I haven’t missed out on the editing itself. Nor the
random conversations about what the characters are up to! Thank you for finding
the time, amongst packing up and abandoning me (the Dream Team is officially no
more), and still being able to get this edited.

A huge thank you must also go
to my proof readers. Naomi, thank you so much for turning this around so
quickly! I’m sorry you’re mad at me, but I hope I can make it up to you! What
is your price?

When I sent this story out to
for proof reading, I honestly thought that this time, I’d managed to send out a
good document. It was probably better than the last one, but thanks to Emily,
I’ve realised just how many words I miss out of sentences. Thank you: I’m glad
your keen eyes managed to fill those blanks in for me!

I can’t forget about my work
colleagues, who not only need a thank you, but also an apology (expect more
book cake), for putting up with me when I get overly excited at book covers,
and writing in general, but also for being brilliant friends. Anastasia (who
makes a better self-appointed groupie (no world book tour yet, I’m afraid.
You’ll have to keep looking at Trackwise a little longer) than a beta-reader),
Rebecca, Helen, Victoria, Scott, Debbie, Rob, (though you’ve moved on) Charles
and Helen, and Jane (or Jane’s mum!). At the other work, Jodof, Nic, Rob, and
Chuby – you too – thank you!

An especially huge thank you
must also go to Özgür. I’m sure you’ve bought half of the books I’ve sold and I
love you for it! This one is for you!

As always, I must send love and
appreciation to Jim and Jana, but also to their mothers for raising such
wonderful children. Jana, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, “Oh,
there’s a castle” … no, wait… These books wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you
welcoming me into your home. I also owe you an additional thank you for
‘translating’ things for me, without questioning it.

Of course, I cannot forget
(this time) Chris – thank you for putting me on the radio and subjecting your
listeners to my ramblings. They might not have appreciated it first thing in on
a Monday morning, but I did!

To all the bloggers, (and shout
outs need to go to Hannah at The Not So Public Library, and Nadine at Am Kinda
Busy Reading in particular), thank you for taking the time to read, review, or
simply share. Bloggers are so important and you deserve so much praise and
credit. It’s an honour to be included on your blogs!

Each time I write the
acknowledgments they get longer and longer as more and more people become
involved in the process. Each time, I’m getting more and more paranoid that I’m
missing someone out. If I have, please forgive me: I truly appreciate your
support.

To round things off, once more,
to all of you, I say THANK YOU!