Angel Eclipsed (The Louisiangel Series Book 2) (8 page)

“Humans can suck big-time," I muttered. “So, is Paddy Raphael’s second-in-command? Can a saint be second-in-command?”

“It depends on how you look at it,” Veronica said returning to the table. “Personally, I like to think that she is the one in charge. After all, the wife is the one who usually is.”

I let out a squeak as my jaw hit the floor. “His wife? Paddy is Raphael’s wife? They’re married?” I stared at Veronica, my eyes wide; convinced she was pulling my leg.

“That’s what I said,” Veronica shrugged.

“You said angels were not allowed relationships,” I said my tone accusatory.

Veronica shook her head. “No,
humans
and angels are not allowed to be in relationships. Angels and angels don’t do relationships. A saint is not a human or an angel.”

“What on earth are they?” I asked.

“Well,” Veronica frowned looking thoughtful. “They used to be human. They were special humans, I suppose. Very special. They’re a bit like you in that respect, but they accomplished something in their life that was truly extraordinary; something which took an unbelievable amount of bravery; something which saved a lot of people and which required their ultimate sacrifice, and in return, they were granted immortality.”

“Immortality?” I repeated. “Their souls are going to live forever too?”

Veronica slowly shook her head. “No, they live forever. Their bodies live forever. Their bodies are frozen in time, like our vessels, only they can’t change them. If their bodies die, they do too, but they will be granted entry to Heaven.”

I sat back in the chair staring at her in amazement. “So you mean,” I was saying the thought out loud as I thought it, but before I could voice the words properly, the door opened and Paddy walked in, Raphael right behind her, the pair of them holding hands. Behind them both were Michael and Cupid.

There was a look shared between Veronica and Michael, and then she ducked out of the room closing the door behind her. The group approached the table, and unsure what the correct etiquette was when dining with archangels and saints, I started to stand. “You don’t have to get up for us,” Paddy said giving me a smile.

I hovered above my chair, midway between standing and sitting. Next to me, Raphael pulled out the chair for Paddy. At that point, I sat. Raphael took the seat next to Paddy, while Cupid took the one next to me, leaving the seat opposite for Michael.

“Please tell me we get tacos to eat too?” Raphael asked Michael with an easy grin on his face.

“When have you ever had anything else when you’ve visited?” Michael returned. “You’d think your cherubim were incapable of cooking Mexican food.”

“It’s just not the same,” Raphael sighed. An impish grin appeared on his face. “Besides, I like watching you try to eat tacos with a knife and fork instead of your fingers,” Raphael added winking at me.

I glanced at Cupid, sure that Raphael was joking. With the exception of one time when I’d accidentally caught Michael in his pajamas, the only thing I’d ever seen him wear were immaculate designer suits, just like the charcoal one he was wearing now. I couldn’t imagine him eating tacos, never mind with a knife and fork. When Cupid just shrugged at me, I stole a glance at Michael. Although Michael was now talking to Paddy who was agreeing with Raphael’s opinions of the chefs in our House, his brown eyes were fixed firmly on me.

“
What is troubling you
?” Michael asked, using our psychic connection.

“
Nothing that can’t wait until after dinner
,” I told him. “
Unless you really do eat tacos with a knife and fork
?”

The slight frown was replaced by soft smile. “
My brother has a habit of exaggerating
.”

“Angel?”

Somehow, while having the psychic conversation with me, Michael had been able to maintain his conversation with Raphael, Paddy, and Cupid. I, on the other hand, had not mastered that level of multitasking. “I’m sorry?” I apologized to Cupid, who had said my name.

“Paddy had asked you what your favorite food was. I was telling her you didn’t discriminate.”

I shot Cupid a glare, poked my tongue out at him, ignored Michael’s grunted disapproval, and turned to Paddy. “I do like most foods,” I told her. “But I absolutely adore chocolate éclairs.”

“Good choice!” Paddy told me. “Do you get them round these parts though?” she asked.

“My aunt makes them.”

“Is she as good as the French?” Raphael asked, looking curious.

I shrugged. “I’ve never been to France,” I admitted. “Actually, I’ve never tried anything other than my aunt’s chocolate éclairs.” I could feel Michael’s gaze on me and I flicked my eyes over to meet his. His head was slightly cocked as he studied me. As usual, his stare had the ability to make me feel instantly guilty. I dropped my eyes to my empty plate in front of me.

“Éclairs aren’t food,” Cupid objected. Behind him the door opened and Veronica re-entered the room this time pushing the cart laden with serving dishes. It was that wonderful aroma I had smelled in the dining room earlier.

“If they’re not food what are they?” I demanded.

“A pastry? A desert? A snack? Food should be nutritional and substantial,” Cupid disagreed, as Veronica unloaded the cart onto the table. She then worked her way around the table serving up the tacos.

“In which case I don’t have a favorite food,” I shrugged. “I like them all. Except rice pudding.”

“Rice pudding is not a food,” Cupid disagreed. “It’s a desert just like éclairs.”

Veronica had finished dishing up dinner but instead of leaving the room like I was expecting she stood back to one side as though to remain there all evening, like a waitress. It felt weird.

For a period the only noises coming from around the table were those of people eating. I did my best to ignore Veronica and instead focused on the food in front of me. It was easier than I thought. I’d never experienced cooking by any other cherubim, but the ones that resided in our House were masters. I don’t think I’d ever had tacos that tasted as good as these.

“So,” said Raphael, finally. “Cupid tells me you are his star pupil at archery.”

I blinked, and then looked suspiciously at Cupid. “Aren’t I your only pupil in archery?” I asked him.

Cupid flashed me cheeky grin. “I suppose that depends on your definition of pupil? I mean, you actually have to turn up to training for me to be able to teach you, and for you to be my pupil.”

I frowned at the not-so-subtle dig. Before I could apologize Michael spoke up. “You are to resume both the lessons with myself and Cupid tomorrow,” he informed me. I nodded seeing no reason to disagree. I needed to be able to wound, not kill.

“Have you had any joy hunting out the Plague of Snakes?” I asked Raphael.

“We have had a few leads, but so far nothing has panned out,” Raphael replied, after glancing over at Michael as though he had to check his permission to answer my question.

“Because they’re not here? Because they’re covering their tracks?” I could feel Michael’s gaze burning into the side of my head, but I kept my attention focused on both Paddy and Raphael.

“We don’t know,” Paddy said carefully. “So far, there has been no definitive proof of the group resurfacing here in New Orleans.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you? I mean, is there something I can be keeping my eye out for?” I offered.

“
Angel
,” Michael’s warning tone echoed in my head.

I ignored him. “You said when they were in Ireland they were trying to raise Lucifer. How?”

“They
thought
they could raise Lucifer,” Paddy corrected me. “Lucifer is dead. He cannot be raised.”

“You all keep saying that, how can you be sure?” I asked in frustration.

“Because I killed him,” Michael snapped angrily, slamming his fist hard enough on the table that all the plates bounced and rattled. “I’m not going to have this conversation with you again. And you will not bring it up or speak Lucifer’s name to me anymore.” His tone was one I recognized. It was the one where, no matter what I wanted, his decision was final. “Now finish your tacos.”

I glowered at him, but did exactly as he ordered, and picked up the last taco on my plate. My cheeks flamed.

The room settled into an awkward silence until finally Raphael spoke. “The Plague of Snakes is dangerous,” he said, causing me to stare at him with my eyes wide. “Not because Lucifer
can
be raised from the dead. As Michael has said, this is not possible. Paddy and I eradicated the Plague of Snakes centuries ago, but that hasn’t stopped man from finding old texts and thinking they can resurrect the group. They are dangerous because they
think
Lucifer can be raised from the dead. They based their beliefs on a centuries-old story that if enough souls can be corrupted it will give Lucifer the strength he needs.”

I wanted to ask what Lucifer would do with that strength, what he needed it for, but apparently that question went against what Michael had previously instructed me. Instead, I just nodded.

“Men can be so impressionable especially when they think they can gain power from their actions,” Paddy told me. “It has been hundreds of years since I’ve heard anything concerning the Plague of Snakes. I think that if they were to have tried anything, they would have done so long before now. Now, what chances do you think the Saints have at winning the Super Bowl this season? I have a soft spot for that team.”

Legal Restrictions

Although it was reasonable a time for me to go to sleep, I didn’t feel tired, and I couldn’t get my brain to switch off. I was finally starting to convince myself that it really was the best option to get Joshua assigned a new guardian angel. I had wanted to bring it up with Michael after dinner, but he and the others had left together and I was still mad at the fact he wouldn’t listen to me about Lucifer.

I was lying on my back on my bed, my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling, when there was a soft rap at the door. I turned my head in the direction of the door but didn’t get up. “Hello?” I called.

The door opened and Veronica’s head popped round. “Good, you’re still awake,” she said.

I frowned and sat rested my weight on my elbows. Over the last six weeks I’d heard Veronica outside of my door but she had never been in my room, even now she was just poked her head around the door. “Is everything okay?” I asked her.

“Can I come in?” I nodded and she entered my room, closing the door softly behind her. “Is it true you banned Michael from your room?”

It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about, and then it dawned on me: I had. I flushed remembering the severity of my words. “I was mad,” I quickly explained. “I just want to be left alone.”

“Good,” she said.

“Good?” I repeated, confused.

She nodded. “Yes. I need to talk to you.” I stared expectantly at her, puzzled at her words. She didn’t explain further. Instead she approached my bed. I sat up and shuffled backwards against the headboard, as she perched on the end of the bed, folding her legs beneath her. “I believe you.”

“Believe me about what?” I asked her.

“The night Hurricane Tabatha hit New Orleans: you said Lilah released Lucifer. I believe you.”

My mouth fell open and I stared at her as my brain processed her words. “You believe me?”

She nodded. “I knew Lucifer. He always had the last word, he was stubborn - even more so than Michael - and whenever Michael would beat Lucifer at anything, Lucifer would always demand a rematch until he won.”

I continue to stare at Veronica. Her words left me feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was one thing to hear Joshua believed me, but he had been there. Veronica was the first angel to believe in me. I could have kissed her. “But no one else believes me.”

“Of course they don’t,” Veronica shrugged. She was trying to be nonchalant, but her gray eyes darkened again, and I could see a long rooted anger within her. “All of the archangels, though Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael in particular, have similar personalities. They are courageous, determined, and strong, but they are also stubborn, and set in their ways. Do you remember why the cherubim, are here on earth?”

I nodded. “You think a war is coming. You want to be as close as the front line as you can.”

“We have said for a very long time there will be another war, and humans will be stuck in the middle of it. I admit, I wasn’t expecting it to involve Lucifer, but this does not surprise me, or any of us,” Veronica agreed.

“Us?” I repeated. “Who else believes this?”

“The cherubim,” Veronica told me. “All of the cherubim. Not just the ones in Michael’s House, but in all of the Houses across the world. We are on your side.”

“I’m not asking anyone to choose sides,” I quickly told her.

“You don’t have to,” she shrugged. “I suppose, if anything, you’re on our side.”

“I don’t want to choose sides either,” I hurriedly added. I let out a long, deep breath and slumped back against the headboard. “I don’t want to cause arguments. I just want somebody to help me fix the mess I created before anybody else gets hurt.”

“Then let me help,” she suggested, her eyes sparkling.

"How?" I asked, dubiously. “Lucifer is out. How on earth do we get him back into hell?”

“We need to find him first of all,” Veronica shrugged again.

I chewed at my lip for a moment, and then realized that if she could believe me about Lucifer she would probably agree with my suspicions regarding Bee’s. “Lilah was looking for Potentials because she thought it would be easier to corrupt them. She thought she could convince them, more easily than it would be to convince an angel, that killing was the right thing to do, if it was to save someone,” I explained. “When I was helping Joshua, we ended up in a bar called Bee’s, just off Bourbon Street. Lilah was working in there. So were the Fallen who were helping her.”

“It looks like we’re going out then,” she told me with a grin. She looked me up and down examining my outfit, and scowled. “But we’re getting changed first.” She leaped off the bed and made her way to the door, looking back with a smile. “I’ll be back in fifteen,” she told me. “Oh, and Angel?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you earned your wings.” She bounded out of the room.

I shuffled off the bed and opened my closet. Dressing for a bar was much easier than dressing for dinner with an archangel. I pulled on a pair of black fitted jeans, which I paired with a black ribbed halter-neck top, a pair of knee-high leather boots with a low heel, and finally, a dark denim jacket. I had just selected a pair of silver earrings, when there was a soft knock at the door. Veronica slipped in. With the exception of ballet flats, and a cord jacket, it was clear we had the same idea of what to wear: something which wouldn’t draw too much attention to either of us.

“Are you ready?” Veronica asked me. I nodded and followed her out of my room. I continued to follow her right to the opposite end of the corridor, where we used the back staircase to exit the building into the gardens. Veronica led me to a side gate that I didn’t know was there, and judging from the plants which were growing over it, it was safe to assume many others didn’t know of its existence either.

“Why do I feel like we’re sneaking out after curfew?” I asked, casting a glance over my shoulder at the convent behind us.

“Because we are?” Veronica suggested. “You may have picked up on the fact that Michael and I disagree over many things. He certainly wouldn’t approve of this. He wouldn’t approve of me doing this anyway, but the fact you’re involved will definitely annoy him.”

“Veronica? Is this going to get you in trouble?” I asked cautiously. I wanted her help, but I didn’t want her getting into trouble over it.

“Probably,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “On the other hand, if we prove Lucifer is back, I’ll probably get promoted out of the kitchen.”

I hadn’t considered it until we were actually on Bourbon Street, but it was a Wednesday night, and we were still a couple of weeks away from Halloween. It was much quieter than I was expecting, but it was the part of the month which dipped for tourists. As I led the way towards the quieter end of the street where Bee’s was, I had the sudden thought that the bar would be closed.

Thankfully, it wasn’t. Our problem was something I hadn’t considered at all. We walked right up to the main doors, and were about to take a step through into the bar, when an arm was lowered in front of me, blocking my way. “ID please,” a deep voice requested.

“Since when do you need ID to get in here?” I demanded, staring down at the surly bouncer.

He scowled back at me. “New policy. ID, please.”

I had a fake ID. Somewhere. I’d paid a reasonable amount of money to a guy at college to provide me with it. The problem was that the last time I had seen it was the night I’d been murdered. I gave Veronica a helpless look, and then realized that as someone who looked even younger than I did, she wasn’t going to be able to help either.

“I don’t drink,” Veronica told the bouncer. Somehow, I refrained from laughing; I might as well have tried to convince him that I was twenty-one.

“No ID, no entry,” the bouncer said, looking as unimpressed as I felt.

I put my hand on Veronica’s elbow and took her back before she could argue with the bouncer. I knew a lost cause when I saw one. “What was that about?” she demanded, when we were a safe distance away.

“Veronica, you have to be twenty-one to drink in Louisiana,” I pointed out.

“I’m older than Louisiana!” she exclaimed in outrage.

“You barely look old enough to be in high school,” I told her. “Why on earth did you choose a vessel which looks like a sixteen-year-old?”

“I’ve had this vessel since I had a form, and there certainly weren’t any restrictions on the consumption of alcohol then,” she grumbled, shooting me an annoyed glare.

“Hang on,” I said, my eyes wide. “You’ve always looked like that?”

Veronica pulled a face. “Of course I have. What else would I have looked like?”

“Michael told me I would have to change my vessel,” I indicated to my body. “I have, perhaps only fifteen years before I would have to change my appearance,” I explained, trying to do my best impression of the archangel.

“Way back when…” Veronica quickly quietened as a small group walked past. She frowned. “We really shouldn’t have this conversation here.”

I glanced up spotting the balcony I had sat on earlier that afternoon. “Follow me.”

Qube didn’t have a bouncer on the front door. The only thing that had changed from earlier was that the rock music was now playing at a louder volume. It was just as empty as it had been before, and Ty was still working behind the bar. “Back so soon?” he asked me as I approached the counter. “Does this mean you’ll model for me?”

Veronica shot me a sideways stare but didn’t say anything. “I still haven’t decided,” I muttered. I ordered us a drink each, and did my best to appear unaffected as both Veronica and Ty kept staring at me. Finally the drinks were set in front of us and I snatched them up, hurrying up the stairs and out onto the deserted balcony.

“Who was that?” Veronica demanded, staring down at me with her arms folded, as I settled into the chair I had sat in earlier.

“Just some guy who works here,” I muttered in embarrassment.

“He’s cute,” Veronica stated, sitting down next to me. She stared out over the balcony, her eyes coming to rest on Bee’s; however, her attention was soon back on me, complete with a sparkle in her eye. “He clearly thinks you’re cute too. Modeling?”

“It’s not like that,” I hurried to explain as I felt my face heat up. “And it’s also not what we are here to discuss,” I said giving her a pointed look.

Veronica nodded and settled back into the metal chair. Suddenly she sat upright, leaned over to the chair next to her, and pulled it in front of her with a loud screech. She then settled back into her chair, and used the other one as a foot rest. “As I was saying, when the angels were created, there were enough of us that every human had a guardian angel.” I nodded. This I remembered. “Given our jobs, we couldn’t afford to wait for one of these humans to die in order to have a vessel. Also, given how few humans there were, we couldn’t really use one of them as we didn’t want to upset anyone. We were all provided with unique vessels.”

“And yours just happened to be that of a sixteen-year-old?” I couldn’t help but ask before I could stop myself. I bit my lip and I was unsure if I had offended my friend.

“Humans didn’t have the lifespan they have now,” Veronica explained completely unperturbed by my question. “Sixteen was practically middle-aged.” She frowned and stared back at Bee’s. “Until now it has never been a problem. Any suggestions?”

“I’d suggest fake IDs,” I offered. “Only, Michael made it very clear I was not allowed to contact any of my former friends and acquaintances. So unless you happen to know anybody?” I left the question hanging.

“No,” Veronica sighed.

“Okay, well, what would we have done if we could have gotten in?” I asked her, thoughtfully.

“I have no idea,” Veronica admitted. I stared at her in disbelief. She shifted uncomfortably. “I was hoping I would just recognize Lucifer.”

My mouth fell open. “You were hoping you would just
recognize
Lucifer?” I repeated in bewilderment. “That was your master plan?”

“Well, what were you going to do?” she demanded. “It’s not like you even know what Lucifer looked like. Even if he obviously isn’t going to look like that anymore.”

“I don’t know what Lucifer looks like, no, so what does it matter what I was going to do? You do,” I pointed out.

“I
did
know what he looked like. Millennia ago. And then he was killed,” she told me.

“I thought we were here because we both agreed that he hadn’t been killed?” I asked her.

Veronica pulled a face. “We agree that he has risen,” she corrected me. “He may have been banished to Hell, his soul may never have died, but his vessel didn’t go with him. And if you think that vessel has survived hundreds of thousands of years, well then, yes he would be recognizable. Absolute best case scenario, where for some insane, unknown, and completely absurd reason Lucifer decided to return to that vessel, I think he would be recognizable to everybody, because he would look like something straight out of a horror movie.”

I sagged a little. I hadn’t thought about this at all. My thoughts had been consumed with Joshua and Lilah – and by default, Paige – rather than how I was going to prove that Lucifer was back. I sighed. “Well what about the Fallen in general? How do you recognize them? There must be something?”