by C. L. Coffey
Maggie seemed oblivious as she carried over more bowls – I wasn’t even sure where she was going to fit them on the table as every inch was covered in food. Once again, it looked like she was cooking for at least double the amount, but the place settings confirmed it would just be the three of us.
Finally, just as Maggie and I sat, Joshua appeared. He had taken the time to straighten his hair, but his cheeks were still flushed and his lips swollen. Lord, it was more than obvious what we had been doing.
Maggie didn’t say anything though and I decided that focusing on the food might give my own skin the opportunity to cool down. As far as turkeys go, the one Maggie had cooked was a small one, but it was still big enough that it would make sandwich fillings for at least a week. Surrounding it were at least four different kinds of potatoes, countless vegetables, cranberry sauce, gravy, fresh cornbread… I was glad I’d chosen a dress which flared out with an empire waistline.
The centerpiece, however, was a homemade autumnal tree, but in amongst the leaves were photographs. I recognized some faces – Joshua’s family was in there, as was Maggie’s husband – the rest, I assumed were other members of Maggie and Joshua’s family.
“My family,” Maggie confirmed. “Some by blood, some by choice. Some with their own families, and some no longer here, but they’re the things I’m most thankful for ever having in my life.”
“I think that’s something we all agree on,” Joshua said. I nodded my agreement, my own thoughts on my parents and Michael. He raised his glass. “To our loved ones.”
Maggie and I joined him in the toast before tucking in. The food was delicious, but the atmosphere in the room had stepped into somber. Eventually, Maggie set her cutlery down. “Is that all you’re thankful for?” she asked, her mouth twitching into a smile.
“Of course not,” Joshua said, slowly. He, like me, seemed to be trying to work out where she was leading with the question. “Friends, family, a roof over my head, a job, the ability to pay my bills and still enjoy life, my good looks-”
“Your undying modesty,” I cut in.
“My education, Dave…” he finished after smirking at me.
“Oh,” Maggie said, blinking with feigned innocence. “Are bedrooms not included on that list?”
Joshua dropped his fork, but the clattering was drowned out by me choking on a piece of asparagus. “Maggie!” he exclaimed, as mortified as I was.
I hurriedly reached for a glass of water, wishing the ground would swallow me up.
* * *
The back of the car was full of food. Just looking at it had me feeling nauseous as I had certainly eaten more than I really should have, once my embarrassment had died down. We’d survived the dinner with Maggie not realizing I was injured, and only commenting on Joshua’s rasping voice, which he somehow managed to convince her was due to the remnants of a cold. After doing the dishes we’d watched a movie with Maggie, and then she had insisted on Joshua taking all the leftovers. He hadn’t protested once – that was his meals taken care of for at least a week.
“You never said why you were at the Plaza,” Joshua said, suddenly. “We got a little distracted.”
“Like hell I know,” I said, wearily. “In all the times I’ve been there, I’ve yet to find out.”
“How many times have you been there?” Joshua asked me sharply. “How many times has that happened to you?”
“I’ve been there three times now, but that’s the first time anything like that has happened,” I said quickly, trying to reassure him. “They’ve wasted that much time trying to be all secretive about where their Bat Cave is that I’ve never learned much more than that.”
“Angel, I swear if that cherub has hurt you before, I will kick his ass,” Joshua ground out.
“And thus, the mystery of why you need a guardian angel is solved,” I muttered, not thinking as I spoke.
“He has hurt you!” Joshua cried, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles went white.
“Okay,” I said, holding my hands up. “Firstly, you need to calm down before your blood pressure makes your throat swell up. Secondly, No. No he hasn’t hurt me, he’s just a grade A douchebag and I have no idea how he’s still got his wings.” The grip on the steering wheel lessened. Sweet as it was that Joshua was prepared to defend my honor, he stood no chance against Garret. Whatever internal injuries I’d sustained were evidence enough of that. “The cherubim have moved into one of the upper floors of the Plaza Tower, judging from the view. Well, I assume all of them are there. I’ve only ever seen half of them, but as they’re very good at kidnapping me the moment I step out of the convent, I wouldn’t be surprised if the other half were out in the city staking out Bee’s or the precinct. Hell, they could well be trying to work out where Lucifer is.”
“Kidnapping?” Joshua repeated, somehow staying calm.
I could have kicked myself. “They have got it in their heads that no one can know where they are, but I have no idea why. When they want me, they get me. They don’t ask, they just stick a bag over my head so I can’t see anything, and then the next thing I know, I’m in their base. The effort has earned Garret at least one bloody nose,” I added.
“That’s my girl,” Joshua said, proudly.
“The best I can figure is that it’s something to do with Lucifer.” When Joshua didn’t respond I looked over at him, and found him staring grimly at the traffic. “What’s the matter?”
“I keep forgetting about Lucifer,” he muttered.
“There’s been that much going on, I’ve been living with the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ theory. I’m hoping we can resolve our problems with the other Fallen in the city before we have to take on the King of Hell.”
Joshua let out a long breath. “Do you remember when the world was much simpler and angels and fallen angels were things of stories?” It wasn’t long ago that I had been human, but it felt like centuries had passed since I had been part of that oblivious world.
* * *
“Paddy, one day I will possess as much skill as you,” I grunted as I rolled over onto my knees and then to my feet. “And on that day, I will kick your butt in repayment for all the bruises you’ve given me.”
It was Friday morning and life had continued on as normal in the convent. I’d discovered, upon my return the previous night, that although the angels had never celebrated thanksgiving before, Sarah had insisted they also prepare a feast. Not one to turn my aunt’s cooking down, I’d had another gluttonous meal before retiring to my room in a food coma.
This morning, giving myself my own penance, I had set myself going on the treadmill – even though I had no need to worry about things like weight gain and clogged arteries – and had run for an hour, before I went and started on my cleaning duties. Without a break, I’d returned to the gym to get an even worse workout from Paddy. She was relentless.
“I prefer payment in the form of cash, check, or gift cards; specifically, Amazon gift cards,” she taunted in her thick, Scottish brogue. “But don’t worry, you have plenty of time to source that.”
I narrowed my eyes, but instead of commenting, I launched an attack on her. The action surprised her, but as always, she recovered quickly, blocking each blow that I rained down on her. Just when I thought I was getting the upper hand and charged, she dropped to a crouch and I went sailing over the top of her, face-planting the mat.
“That looks tasty,” Joshua’s voice carried across the room, a slight rasp remaining.
“You’re early,” I grunted, rushing to get my things in order so I could hide my embarrassment.
“Hey, you were doing pretty good up until then,” he offered, trying to be helpful.
I just grunted again, and turned back to Paddy, who was waiting patiently. “We can finish up here. I’ll keep waiting on those gift cards.”
My response was delayed by Joshua’s phone bleeping at him. He pulled it out and frowned. “Leon’s checking I’m back in today,” he said, after reading t
he text. “There’s been a murder.”
“Thank you, Paddy,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She nodded her head and left the gym. Before she could close the door and I could question Joshua further, Nyle hurried into the room, looking worried. “Nyle? Is everything alright?”
“I was just wondering if you’d seen Eugene?” he asked, looking around as though he was expecting him to be in here with us.
The last place I’d ever expect to find Eugene was in the gym. I shook my head. “Not since breakfast. Didn’t he say something about us needing more chili peppers for the sweet chili chicken?”
“Yes, but he hasn’t come back yet,” Nyle said, his face drawn with worry.
That was three hours ago. Even if he’d gone for supplies for the rest of the week he’d be back by now. “No, but Cupid has the psychic connection, right? Maybe we should talk to him?” I suggested.
Nyle chewed at his lip. “Okay.”
“If you’re worried about getting him in trouble, why don’t you give it another hour? Or speak to Sarah. She may have asked him to run a few errands for her while he was out?” I offered, hoping I was being helpful. Nyle looked dubious, but he nodded and left, leaving Joshua and I alone. “I need a shower. I’ll be quick,” I promised him.
“Cupid?” I called, on my way up to my room.
“Angel?” he responded.
“Do me a favor and turn on your LoJack for Eugene?”
There was a moment’s pause. “He’s on the corner of Royal and St. Peter’s. Why?”
There was grocery store there. “No emergency,” I assured him. “Nyle was wondering where Eugene went. Seems like he’s running an errand for my aunt.” Knowing that Eugene would be back soon, I hurried on to have the quick shower I’d promised. The advantage of having hair that was permanently one style, was that I could leave it wet and know it wasn’t going to frizz up.
We were at the crime scene in under an hour. We parked up outside the Municipal Auditorium – one of the many buildings which had been damaged during Hurricane Katrina but had taken until late last year before anyone had done anything with it. Now it was undergoing a huge restoration process so it remained empty and not a stop for many tourists. However, the park it was built in was. Just on the border of the Quarter, located in Tremé, was the Louis Armstrong Park.
As we walked around the building, I discovered that the victim had been murdered in Congo Square, an area directly adjacent to the Municipal Auditorium. Congo Square was a large open space, the ground made up of bricks laid in a swirling pattern. Once upon a time, the Jazz Fest had been held there until it moved to the race course. Now, Congo Square’s busiest day was a Sunday.
Except today. Today there were all kinds of onlookers swarming around, trying to see past the crime scene tape which held them back at the trees around the perimeter. We ducked under and I followed Joshua to where Leon was waiting with the body.
Leon gave me a surprised look. “Is he one of you?” he asked.
My attention shot to the nearby police officer who seemed close enough to hear the conversation, but was currently busy looking through the nearby bushes. “By one of me, you mean a college student?” I asked. The victim, a young man, looked like he could have passed for college age, though I had my doubts. The overalls he was wearing were covered in oil and grime, as well as the dark bloodstain pooled around his neck, now almost dry in the midday heat.
Leon’s eyes went wide before he too looked at the nearby officer. “According to the victim’s driving license, he’s Alexander Ramsey. We’ve also got a work ID for the Port.”
I knew what Leon was implying as that wave of grief crashed over me. “Michael,” I started, and then, remembering the nearby officer, stopped. Leon nodded and led us away to a spot far enough that nobody could overhear us. “The person… the fallen angel who killed Michael is dead,” I said, the words coming out quick and thick. “His body was destroyed. I don’t know who that guy is, but he had nothing to do with Michael’s death.”
Leon glanced back at the body. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that his body has turned up here.”
“I do,” I shrugged, following his gaze. “The Port stretches along most of the Mississippi on both sides. That’s a lot of area to work in.”
Leon’s phone bleeped at him and he pulled it out, reading the screen. “Looks like we’ve got another one at the French Market.” He looked to Joshua. “How are you feeling?” he asked. “You feel well enough to handle one by yourself?”
“Just getting over the sore throat,” Joshua nodded.
“You stay here with this one, make sure the vultures keep away until the ME arrives, and then can you handle the notification while I take the other one?” At Joshua’s agreement, Leon walked away, grumbling under his breath about how Black Friday was supposed to be a quiet day for homicides.
I watched as he headed for the crime tape and ducked under it, then noticed that the crowd had grown. “Joshua,” I said, keeping my voice low even though no one could hear me where we were. “Do you mind if I hide out in the car? I won’t be far if you need me.”
Joshua gave me an amused smile. “I’m perfectly capable of handling a crime scene by myself, darlin’,” he said, handing over the key fob. “I don’t know how long I’ll be though.”
I was being paranoid, I know, but I’d been in such a rush that I hadn’t bothered to pull a cap over my wet hair. I knew there was at least one church in the nearby area, and we weren’t far from St. Louis Cemetery No. 1.
It did give me time to go over my list. I had struck three things off it, but one objective had to be amended: ‘work out exactly whose side Ty was on’. I’d also added to the list: ‘work out what the cherubim are up to’. Okay, the progress was more like one step forward and two back, given the scope, but it was something and I was managing to do this without Michael.
I was contemplating heading back to the crime scene to see how things were going, but it was warm in the car, and I was comfortable, and the next thing I knew, I was in Paris.
Well, I wasn’t in Paris exactly....
I was asleep.
I looked around at the night sky and groaned. I was in Paris on a specific day – the first time I had been there with Michael – I recognized an old couple as they strolled past me.
I’d always wanted to go to Paris. I’d always wanted to travel the world, but I’d gone to college and then I’d died. Michael had brought me to Paris not too long ago and I’d explored everywhere with him while he taught me some things about the city, the history, and a few things about angels. What I hadn’t realized at the time was that they were dates.
Yes, I was that oblivious. In my defense, Michael had all but told me that he and I could never be a thing. He was no good at sharing his feelings, and I was no empath, but even if I had been completely unaware of why I was there, I’d had a really nice evening.
My gaze had been on the Eiffel Tower which was looming over me, lit up in the dark, but I brought it down to the grass in front of me where I knew I would be sitting. Sure enough, there I was, beside Michael on a picnic blanket; devouring a sandwich. I winced as I watched myself: the sandwich had been fresh and tasty, but I really needed to slow down when eating. It was not dignified in any way.
“You enjoyed that.”
I turned my head, slowly. Standing beside me, watching me watch me, was Michael. “This is weird,” I said. Weird was an understatement. This was bordering on disturbing and it was giving me a headache.
“Yet you do not seem surprised,” Michael observed.
“No, I suppose not,” I agreed. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. I’d walked into Joshua’s dream once and relived a memory with him. This was just as painful. “I suppose I’m more impressed with my memory recall.”
Michael tilted his head. “I do not understand.”
“This,” I said, gesturing to the Eiffel tower above. “And that,” I added, pointing at the memory of me and him. “A
nd definitely you.”
“Me?” He seemed surprised.
“It’s not that I would ever forget you,” I hurried to tell him. “It’s more that it’s odd that I would choose to bring you here, while you’re sat just there. Does that make sense? Because in my head it does… Only this is in my head too.”
“This is your memory?” he asked, amused.
“My dream,” I shrugged.
“Are you sure?”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You’re dead,” I said. My words were blunt, but apparently my psyche needed a talking to. “And I can do this.” I focused on the memory of us, still eating. It took some effort, but they vanished. I turned back to the remaining Michael. “See?”
“How did you do that?” he asked, perturbed.
I shrugged. “Like hell I know how dreams work.” I wandered over to a bench and took a seat. Moments later I was joined by Michael. “The question is, what am I doing dreaming about you?” The question was rhetorical but he opened his mouth to respond. “Well it’s obvious,” I said, before he could. “I miss you.”
“You do?”
“You seem surprised,” I told him. Michael stared up at the tower in front of us, considering what I had said. “Or maybe it’s me that’s surprised,” I mused. “A shrink would have a field day with this.”
“Why?” Michael asked.
I stared at him and pulled a face. I was talking to a memory of him aka, myself. Then I thought about what he had asked. I sighed. “A shrink would be bored. This is textbook.” I sighed again and raked a hand through my hair, discovering that it was still red. I wonder what my inner shrink would say about that? “Being an angel is hard work,” I admitted.
“You are struggling?” he asked, finally looking back at me.
“It turns out that even when I probably seemed like I wasn’t listening, I really was, and now you’re not here to help me, I have no idea what to do next,” I told him.