Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) Read Free

tightly. “I’m okay, Angel,” he
muttered.
    “Maybe it’s me that needs the hug,” I
countered.
    We stood there for a while – long enough
that most hugs would have turned awkward but I could tell Cupid needed it. “I
miss her, you know?” he admitted, finally.
    “I know,” I said.
    “I just want to know she’s okay,” he
added.
    I pulled back slightly to look up into his
sad brown eyes. “Can you not just ask Michael where she is?”
    Cupid shook his head. “I already have. He
doesn’t know.”
    I finally stepped back out of the embrace,
frowning. “I thought he had a connection with all the angels in the House?”
    “Only if they’re part of the House,” Cupid
explained. “And the cherubim are no longer part of any house.”
    “Surely there’s someone in Heaven who has
a trace on them?” I suggested. “I mean, it’s not like they fell, is it?”
    “No,” Cupid agreed, his expression grim. “But
this is only half a step away from that. They’re lucky Michael didn’t consider
it a rebellion. They have you to thank for that.”
    “Me?” I repeated, dumbly.
    Cupid nodded. “You stormed into Michael’s
office and you got him to listen. You made him realize that he was as much to
blame for their leaving as they were.”
    I stared at him, dumbfounded. My memory of
that conversation was a little hazy: I’d seen red and shouted at the most
famous archangel. I also wasn’t in any particular hurry to remember that
conversation either. I’m fairly certain I resorted to some form of name
calling. He probably should have kicked me out.
     
    * * *
     
    After the angels had left the dining room,
and I had cleared up after them, I turned my attention back to the dinner I had
planned. Chili without onions didn’t seem right. Strangely, it was a missing
ingredient which made something in me snap.
    Enough was enough. I was getting out of
this convent. Alright, so maybe I had revealed the presence of angels to the
world – something which had been successfully hidden for millions of years. Or
had it? If I remembered correctly (I had finally taken it upon myself to start
reading the Bible) there were several angels (including Michael!) who
had made an appearance to man, so I wasn’t the first.
    I was just the first to do it in a world
of social media.
    Whatever. I hurried up to my room to grab
a cap I knew I had buried in the bottom of the closet. I pulled my hair into a
high ponytail so that I could feed it through the cap loop and examined myself
in the bathroom mirror. It covered my head well, making the tail less
noticeable, and with the denim skirt and white tank top I was wearing, I could
probably pass unnoticed. I stuck a credit card in my pocket (it turned out that
the House had a bank account – they needed to pay for the groceries somehow)
and was about to head for the door when I grabbed a purse at the last minute.
    Downstairs I made a quick detour to the
unlocked armory and ducked in to collect my sword. My heart sank. It did every
time I saw the black metal – it always reminded me of how I had turned it
black. I fought back a sudden burst of pain as I thrust it in my purse and then
exited the convent.
    Michael’s House is the Old Ursuline
Convent on Chartres Street. Although the convent is no longer open to the
public, St Mary’s Church, which technically lies on the convent’s ground, is
still used for services in the local Catholic community. Thankfully, the main
entrance to the church doesn’t involve going through convent grounds. The
convent also has a brick wall that has to be at least ten feet tall going
around it.
    Unfortunately, I could hear a gathering on
the other side. Although my ‘publicity stunt’ had been written off as a hoax by
most there were still a few individuals who believed. According to Paddy there
were a few people lingering around all the churches in the French Quarter –
just in case they came across an angel.
    The angels still used the main gate,