by C. L. Coffey
“Yes,” Raphael answered.
My attention was fixed on Cupid as he pulled two black leather items from a cupboard. He wrapped one around the opposite thigh to the quiver, hooking it to my belt. The other he wrapped around the shin below the quiver. “Is all this really necessary?” I asked them both, staring down at the numerous pieces of leather woven around my legs. None of it was restrictive or felt uncomfortable, but I honestly felt ridiculous.
Cupid reached over and took my sword from the side, slipping it into the dagger length sheath on my thigh. “You tell me?” he shrugged.
I glanced over his shoulder, catching my reflection in the window. I still had the gloves and arm guard on, but it wasn’t the equipment that was the problem. It wasn’t even the fact I was wearing white gym gear. Even the bright red hair wasn’t the issue. Sure, combined, it was a pretty amusing sight, and I would probably be the first to snicker at someone who walked past looking like I did.
The problem was the fact that I felt like a fraud. Listening to Paddy tell me all about the Plague of Snakes and how she had stopped a fallen angel, well, that was impressive. She may have been tiny, but she was a force to be reckoned with.
I felt like an imposter: an imposter who had already allowed her charge to be injured because she couldn’t do her job and live up to the many expectations there were of her. If I wanted to keep Joshua safe – if I wanted to keep anyone I cared about safe – then not only did I need to trust in Michael, but I needed to trust in myself. I had been given a second chance, and I’d been given extra abilities to help me succeed. I also had three archangels who were prepared to teach me what they knew to help me.
I inhaled deeply, through my nose, and then exhaled through my mouth. I straightened my back and turned to Raphael, meeting his gaze. “Let’s do this.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the surprise on Cupid’s face change to one of pride. I kept my head high and returned to the gym, Raphael behind me.
I did my best to keep my confidence at the same level throughout the training, but it was hard work. Raphael moved with his sword like they were one liquid-like mass. Every moment, though calculated, appeared effortless. My reactions, by comparison, were slow and clumsy.
We weren’t even using the swords to duel.
For another three hours, my training session consisted of me being thrown around the room to land correctly. The only difference was that I had to learn to draw my sword either as I landed, or as I was being tossed through the air.
“Angel, you’re supposed to be drawing your sword, not your dagger,” Raphael called in exasperation, after what felt like the four hundredth fall of the afternoon.
“I know,” I grunted to myself, as I stuck the dagger back in the sheath, sending death glares at the black metal.
The blade didn’t automatically grow. Instead, I was supposed to will the metal into its longer form. Stationary, it wasn’t a problem, but trying to accomplish this while not face-planting wasn’t as easy.
I turned back to Raphael and braced myself, but he shook his head. “Why don’t we call it a day?” he suggested.
“No, I can keep going,” I assured him. I still hadn’t gotten the hang of it and I was determined I would do.
He stepped forward, resting his hand on my shoulder, and I braced myself for the push. Instead he shook his head. “Michael is expecting you.”
I sighed. I guess I did have questions for Michael.
We packed up and then I cleaned up. Dressed in my uniform, I only just remembered to grab my coat, before hurrying upstairs to Michael’s office.
He was on the phone when I stepped in, but indicated that I should sit on one of the two brown leather couches in the corner of the room. I did as he requested, staring around the plainly decorated room as he finished up his call.
Like the rest of the convent, Michael’s office had cream walls with dark wood features. There were only a handful of paintings on the wall, but today, one in particular held my attention. It was a painting of a wooden dock over a mist covered lake. While I was absolutely certain it wasn’t the same lake as Joshua’s (his dock seemed much smaller for starters), I struggled to keep any sign of emotion from my face. I had mixed feelings about that piece and the last thing I needed was Michael questioning me.
“Is everything all right?” Michael asked me, breaking my replay of a night I shouldn’t be remembering. Judging from the way he was looking at me, I wasn’t succeeding in keeping the goofy grin from my face.
“Just thinking,” I told him, rising to my feet.
Michael’s expression quickly turned to one of regret. “I’m afraid I cannot take you back to Paris tonight,” he apologized.
“That’s okay,” I told him, even though I was a little disappointed. Over the last couple of weeks, we had visited almost every site. According to Michael, the only thing left was the Louvre, and I really wanted to see what the fuss was about the Mona Lisa’s smile.
“I have a meeting shortly,” Michael explained. “I don’t want to have to rush us.”
“It’s fine,” I assured him. “Do you want me to come back tomorrow?”
He considered me, then gestured that I sit back down. I did. He paused for a moment and then sat down opposite. “You have something on your mind?”
“I…” I shrugged. “I have some questions, but it can wait until later if you don’t have the time.”
Michael shook his head, and settled back into the chair. “I have the time.”
“I was thinking about Lilah,” I admitted. “Well, her charge,” I continued, trying not to feel put off by Michael’s frown.
“What about him?” he asked, his tone guarded.
“Who was he?” I asked. “I mean, why did he need a guardian angel? And what happened to him after Lilah fell?” Michael stared at me. There was no movement, not even blinking, and I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under his gaze. “I know he was important enough to need a guardian angel, but why wasn’t he assigned to me after? Or did he accomplish what he needed to so that he didn’t need a guardian angel anymore?” I pressed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.
Finally, with a long exhalation of breath, Michael blinked. “Everybody should have a guardian angel,” he said, finally. “Everybody should have someone watching over them, from the moment they are born, to the moment they die.”
“Everybody?” I repeated, skepticism lacing my tone. “Including murderers and terrorists?”
“Everybody,” Michael agreed. “Including murderers, terrorists, Christians, Muslims, Atheists and even Manchester United fans. Humans were blessed with free will, but that’s not to say they do not need a little guidance from time to time.”
“I think there are a lot of people out there that would disagree with you,” I muttered. Myself included.
“That’s because you are thinking of the now, rather than the before. If a person has killed, then yes, it is too late for the victim they have killed. It may not be too late for that person to be stopped from killing again. If that same person was given a guardian angel from a much younger age, then perhaps they could be guided towards a more positive life.”
“So why aren’t you giving me a child as a charge?” I asked. “Why Joshua? Why is he special? Or am I supposed to stop him from becoming a serial killer?”
“I have no control over the choice of your charge,” Michael responded, somehow managing to sound patient. “Right now, I am trusting that the reason Joshua was chosen is because he has yet to do greatness, rather than evil. I also trust that this is something that will happen sooner, rather than later.”
I sat, gnawing at my lip. If the choice was between greatness and evil, I was certain Joshua was certainly going to accomplish greatness. “So how can I help him, if even you don’t know what he’s going to do?”
“Free will,” Michael said, simply. “Humans have to make that choice.”
“How can they make that choice if they don’t know they have it?�
� I couldn’t stay seated. Instead, I got to my feet and began pacing back and forth between my side of the coffee table and the couch.
“How can they make it if they know they do?” Michael returned.
“That makes no sense,” I grunted in frustration.
“If I were to tell you that your personal greatness could be achieved by saving the life of a man, would you?” he queried, patiently watching me pace.
“Of course,” I said, without even considering it. “I wouldn’t even expect greatness from it,” I added.
For some reason, that earned me a smile. “What if I told you that to save this man, you would have to pull him from in front of an incoming car?”
“I would still try,” I shrugged. “Even if it meant hurting myself in the process,” I added as Michael started to open his mouth.
Yet again, I was rewarded with a smile.
“What if, in the process of saving this person, the driver of the car saw your movements and made the effort to swerve? What if, when swerving, he sent his car in another direction and in the process killed a child?”
I blinked. “Are you saying that Joshua is going to be a child killer?”
“Would that affect how you treated him as your charge?” Michael asked.
I was never playing poker with this guy. I paused in my pacing to rub at my forehead. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess I would try to find a way to save both of them?”
“What if I told you that person crossing the road was a surgeon and would go on to save countless lives?” Michael continued. “What if that child was to grow up to be a drug dealer?”
I sat down heavily on the couch and glared at Michael. “I don’t like this game.”
“The point I am getting at, is that sometimes it is better not to know. It needs to be a human’s choice, not yours,” Michael added.
“But how can a person make a choice if they don’t have all the information?” I returned.
“People do it every day,” Michael pointed out. “They make all kinds of decisions without knowing all the facts.”
“Yes, and then we end up with war,” I returned, stubbornly.
Michael was ever patient. “We also end up with advances in medicine and science which would never have happened without guesswork and intuition.”
I leaned forward, resting my forehead in my hands. “Okay, so maybe it’s better not to know all the details,” I sighed, wearily. “Maybe it is too much responsibility.” I was actually getting a headache now.
“Just because you don’t know the details, doesn’t mean you can’t guide a person to doing the right thing. There is a difference between hurting someone by accident, and allowing a person to strap an explosive device to their chest,” Michael continued to explain.
It was evident that I wasn’t going to get out of Michael why Joshua was important, or what he was going to do. But that wasn’t the only question I needed answering. I raised my head and found Michael watching me. “Tell me about Lilah’s charge.”
Michael’s face darkened. “Darell is safe.”
“Was he a detective too?” I asked.
“Darell was a Ranger,” Michael told me, shortly.
“As in Park Ranger, or US Army?” I asked. “Never mind, Lilah was based here.”
Michael took a deep breath. “Darell was in the US Army, but when he was under Lilah’s watch he had already been honorably discharged and was working security in the city. It is my understanding that he has yet to achieve what he needs to, from a heavenly perspective. However, as he no longer has a guardian angel, we can only hope that he can accomplish this by himself.”
My mouth fell open. I felt dizzy. “You mean, if something happens to me, Joshua would be all by himself? Was this because they slept with each other?”
“Unfortunately, the two sleeping with each other did play a part, yes. By doing so, Lilah was no longer welcome in this House and she lost her wings. Consequently, Darell lost his guardian angel. Joshua wouldn’t be by himself, but we wouldn’t necessarily be able to assign him to someone else,” Michael responded. “We are aware that he is important, but he’s not the only one, Angel,” Michael continued. “I continue to check in on Darell when I can, as I would with Joshua.”
Michael got to his feet and joined me on the couch. He sat down beside me, hesitating, before resting his hand on my knee. “Nothing is going to happen to you, and I have faith that you will not allow anything to happen to your charge.”
Too right I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him. I got to my feet, straightening my shirt out, and flipped my hair over my shoulders. I looked down at Michael and nodded. “I am going to do everything in my power to keep Joshua safe and make sure he accomplishes what he needs to.”
“I know you will,” Michael agreed. He got to his feet. “If you will excuse me, I need to go to my meeting. I hate to keep Lily waiting.”
In the amount of time it took me to blink, he had gone. Lily? Lily was an Angel of Death, posing as a doctor at one of the hospitals in the city. She didn’t like me very much, but the last time I had seen her, I had threatened to punch her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She Sang ‘Hey Jude’, Didn’t She?
Exactly one hour later, the alarm bells of Radio Joshua blared into life. I made my way towards the bars close to Canal Street. Here the crowds were busier. I stood outside one of the bars looking up at the neon sign lit up in one of the windows, certain that the internal tracking system I had on Joshua was on the blink. The neon pink lettering spelled karaoke: quite possibly one of the last places I ever expected to find Joshua.
I glanced up and down the street and then a jolt of awareness shot through me: something had hurt Joshua again, and whatever that was, it had originated from within the bar in front of me. As soon as I’d made up my mind to enter the bar, a female’s shriek escaped from within.
I darted in, pushing past a small group who were trying to exit the premises. Inside the lighting was dim, except for a small stage area in the corner, which had been lit by a couple of spotlights. The stage area was perhaps only a couple of feet square, but Joshua was right in the middle of it. Unfortunately, instead of a microphone in his hand, his grip was firmly clutching at the arm of a small Asian man. Joshua had pushed him up against a wall, with his arm twisted behind his back, keeping his movements restricted.
While half of the bar was starting to clear out, not wanting to get caught up in any trouble, the other half was crowding around, finding entertainment in what was happening. I weaved through them, making my way to the stage. As I pushed past the front row of the crowd I saw a young girl, probably no older than eighteen, on her knees on the floor of the stage, sobbing. “Let my father go. Please, let my father go. I’ll go home. I promise,” she was saying again, and again.
Meanwhile, the Asian man - obviously her father - was demanding that Joshua let him go, and that he had done nothing wrong. In fact, he was insisting that it was his daughter who was in the wrong, as well as Joshua.
Finally, Joshua looked up and noticed I was there. Those blue eyes clouded over. He didn’t look angry, maybe a little startled, and… I struggle to put my finger on it. Determined, maybe? “Angel? What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at him. “You’re asking me why I’m here? You’re the one in the middle of a karaoke bar.” I glanced around, happy to see the audience was growing tired and slowly turning their attention elsewhere.
“You’re also in a karaoke bar,” Joshua pointed out.
I gave the stragglers of the crowd one last look, and then decided there was too much of a gap to have this conversation. Instead I climbed up on stage and took two paces towards Joshua. An almighty wail assaulted my ears as I grew close. “Don’t arrest me!” The girl was howling.
I winced at the piercing shriek she continued to release, and glowered over at her. “How about you pipe down now? I’m not the police. I’m not here to arrest you.” She blinked
rapidly at me, continued to sniffle, but fell silent. I turned my attention back to Joshua, only to find he was staring at me like I had grown a second head. “What is the matter with you?” I asked him.
“You speak Chinese,” he said in amazement.
“Chinese?” I repeated. “I don’t speak Chinese. I don’t speak any second language, unless you count American English?”
“Funny,” he muttered dryly, although he continued to watch me with eyes wide.
I pulled a face at him. “In all seriousness, what are you doing here?”
“I came for karaoke,” he told me in a voice so serious, I honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “And then, the next thing I know, this guy has come storming in here, tries to grab her off the stage, and starts trying to drag her out of here.”
“Well,” I said, thoughtfully. “That might have something to do with the fact she snuck out. Granted, her dad may have overreacted a little bit,” my explanation faltered under Joshua’s expression. The look of sheer amazement was back. “What?” I demanded.
“How on earth have you managed to come up with that?” he asked.
“Am I the only one who has been paying attention?” I asked, looking around. Unfortunately, at this point, the only people paying attention were Joshua, the Chinese man, and his daughter. “He’s been like a broken record since I got here. And she is grounded for life,” I added pointing at the girl. The look of amazement remained. “Seriously, for a detective, even if you are a detective in training, you’re really not that observant. You might need to work on that.”
The amazement dwindled into something akin to understanding. “Will you tell him I’m about to let him go, and for him to get his passport out?” Joshua asked me.
I shot him a scathing look. “Tell him yourself.”
“Humor me,” Joshua insisted.
My eyes narrowed at Joshua, but I turned to the man. “The detective here wants me to tell you that he’s going to let you go. But he wants you to get your passport out. Apparently, he’s incapable of telling you this himself.”