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

who didn’t do sarcasm. “It’s a compound bow. There is a difference.
Today’s lesson is going to consist of learning names. Until you can
learn them, you’re not going to pick a bow up.”
    What was potentially going to be an
interesting lesson had quickly become very boring. “Oh, yay,” I
muttered dryly.
    By the time Michael appeared in the gardens,
I think my mind was ready to melt again. “I’ll get you a book to
help,” Cupid promised me as the archangel joined us.
    “How was your first lesson?” Michael asked,
studying me.
    “Not as hands-on as I would like,” I told
him, watching Cupid disappear back into the gym. “And I’m not sure
why I needed to get dressed up for it,” I added, pointing to my
attire.
    “That is for your training with me,” he
informed me.
    “ You mean I get to play with a sword?” I
asked him hopefully. Listening to Cupid reel off each and every
part of the compound bow, as well as each mechanism’s purpose in
the grand scheme of things hadn’t exactly been exciting stuff. The
prospect of Michael telling me the names of each part of a sword…
well I wanted to do something.
    He stared at me, and I could feel the hope
drain away with my smile. “Let us see how well you have adjusted to
your vessel first,” he said, indicating that I should go back
inside.
    We headed for the machines, stopping at the
punch bag which Veronica was trying to hide behind. Michael
scowled. “You should be in the kitchens getting dinner ready,” he
told her.
    Veronica gave him a polite nod, and as soon
as his back was turned, poked her tongue out at him.
    “Now, Veronica.”
    I was surprised that archangels seemed to
have eyes in the back of their head, but Veronica just shrugged and
walked off. I glanced back at Michael who was looking at me
impatiently. At my puzzled expression, he pointed at the wall in
front of us. The mirror covered wall. I groaned and tried to cover
my embarrassment by jumping on the treadmill.
    Michael came to the side and pressed a few
buttons. Before I knew it, I was running at a very fast pace.
“What? No warm up?” I yelped, trying to match my speed with the
machine. I wasn’t a runner and I avoided running at all costs.
    “You don’t need a warm up,” Michael informed
me. He moved to the far side of the room and picked a book up off
the side, bringing it and a chair back with him. “How far have you
run?” he asked me as he seated himself in front of my machine.
    “I’ve only been running for a couple of
minutes,” I told him. He just sat staring at me until I glanced
down at the digital display. “A quarter of a mile.”
    “For the record, you’re capable enough to
have run a couple of miles by now,” he said, stretching his feet
out and opening the book.
    I nearly fell off the treadmill. “A couple of miles? I thought a four
minute mile was good and I’m nowhere near capable of
that.”
    Michael flicked through the pages, finding
his place. “Angel, as a human you may not have been capable, but as
a Potential possessing a vessel, you are capable of much more than
the average human. You just have to realize that.”
    I was already at the stage that I was
struggling to breathe, so I kept quiet and instead glared at him. I
reached up and wiped the sweat off my forehead.
    “You should also be able to do this without
looking like you’re going to keel over,” he added, without looking
up from the book.
    I have mentioned that I want to punch him,
right? Or take that big thick book of his and use it to smack him
around the head. I wouldn’t of course. But right then, I really wanted to grab that book and
use it as a weapon.
    When I saw he was reading Paradise Lost I
nearly fell off the machine for a second time. I decided to
concentrate solely on my running. I managed twenty minutes, running
as though I was being chased, and then I could feel my legs begin
to wobble. “Michael,” I panted. “I can’t go anymore.”
    “You can run for hours at