Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One) by C. L. Coffey

detective gave me, I suspect you told him you were on
vacation. What happens if you meet him again, a month down the
line?” he glanced at me. “More to the point, you are a minor. That
could have been a lot worse.”
    “I didn’t think of that,” I muttered. “I was
a little preoccupied in hoping that they wouldn’t properly ID
me.”
    “Every action has a consequence, Angel,” he
warned me. “And you need to be extra careful. You need to think
before you act.”
    He was right. Only that’s not me. I act
first, think later, and I also suffer badly from foot-in-mouth
disease. “Why is it alright for Joshua to know, but no one else
can?” I asked him.
    Michael gave me a look that said you’re really
asking me that ? “How
would you feel if people were stopping you all the time, asking for
miracles you couldn’t possibly give them?”
    Yet another good point. I sighed and turned
my attention to the world outside the car window. We were almost at
the convent now. “I’m sorry,” I muttered.
    “You are forgiven,” Michael told me. He
pulled up outside the back gate and produced a small control from
the door pocket. Seconds later, the giant black gate slid open and
we drove in.
    As I had yet to explore the convent properly,
I hadn’t discovered the small fleet of silver GMC Yukons that lined
up in a small parking lot. There had been some serious money spent
here. “Exactly how much does your congregation donate?” I asked
Michael in amazement.
    “If you need them, these vehicles are at your
disposal,” he told me, once again avoiding answering my question.
“The keys can be located behind the front desk. Right now, you need
to find Cupid and begin your archery training.”
    I slid out of the car and trudged around to
the front of the building, keeping my head down as I passed some of
the model-like angels in the gardens. Judging from the looks I was
getting, word of my morning adventures had already reached them. I
was going to murder Cupid when I found him.
    He was behind the front desk, reading today’s
issue of the Times-Picayune. “Don’t tell me I’m in that,” I groaned
as I leaned over to see what he was reading: horoscopes.
    “Hardly,” Cupid grinned. He looked up and his
expression turned to one of horror. “Angel, what did you do to that
outfit?”
    “I’m fine by the way,” I told him, pointing
at my eye.
    “That will be gone by tomorrow,” Cupid
informed me, waving it aside. “But those stains? Blood is
impossible to get out.”
    “I’m talking bloodstains with Cupid,” I
muttered. “I’m never going to be able to celebrate Valentine’s Day
again. You need to teach me archery, by the way.”
    Cupid looked me up and down. “Girl, there are
more important things I need to teach you first.”
    “That’s fine,” I told him, hopping up onto
the counter. I pulled the paper over to me and turned to the front
page. “I’ll read this while you tell Michael.”
    Cupid snatched the paper out of my hands and
tossed it behind him. “Yeah, yeah. Get your butt off my reception
desk,” he ordered, slapping the body part. “I will just have to
teach you the other part in your free time.”
    I jumped off and followed him into the
building. “You mean I get free time?” I asked him.
    “Not anymore you won’t,” he informed me,
grinning.
    He led me to the locker room, where I stood
in the doorway, eyeing up rows of lockers. “So which is mine?” I
asked him.
    “What’s your room number?” he asked me.
    Without answering him, I located the locker
numbered 238 and pulled it open. It dawned on me that I had yet to
find a door that was locked in this building. It was one thing to
trust other angels, but what if someone else got in the
building?
    Inside the locker were two pairs of bright
white Nike’s, and three sets of gym clothing. I pulled them out.
They consisted of a white sports bra and a pair of white Lycra
cycle shorts. I turned to give Cupid an unimpressed look.