Angel in Training (The Louisiangel Series, Book One) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to
his. “Take me to the food,” I told him, by stomach choosing the
moment to emphasize the fact I was hungry.
    He led me downstairs to the opposite side of
the building. Once upon a time, the building had been used as a
girl’s school, and the canteen still remained. It was now full of,
as Cupid had described them, models. All of them turning to stare
at me in curiosity.
    “Can we get a to-go bag?” I hissed in Cupid’s
ear.
    He turned to me and grinned. “Don’t worry,
they’re all drones. Give it ten minutes and their meals will be
more interesting.”
    I followed him over to the food. It was a
help yourself system, although behind the counter, what I assumed
to be the cherubim were keeping the containers well stocked. Cupid
had been right; they were all emo teenagers, although there were a
few females in there, much to my surprise. All of them were wearing
far too much eyeliner, their hair inky black, and none of them
smiled. I ignored the grits and piled my plate high with bacon,
eggs and biscuits – the Louisianan equivalent of plain scones.
    “I haven’t eaten for months,” I told Cupid as
I sat opposite. He had been staring in disbelief at the amount of
food piled up on my plate. It wasn’t until I had devoured half of
my breakfast that I paused long enough to question Cupid. “I
thought I was the only female,” I accused him.
    Cupid looked momentarily confused before the
understanding washed over him. “You mean the cherubim?” He laughed.
“They are stuck in puberty for eternity. They hardly count. All
those hormones and insecurities?” He shuddered.
    “We’re more female then you are,” a voice
announced taking the chair between me and Cupid. Behind the shaggy
black hair, hidden underneath layers of kohl, were two sparkling
gray eyes. She looked about sixteen.
    Cupid let out an exaggerated sigh. “This is
Veronica. She spends her life wallowing in an imaginary quagmire of
torment.”
    “Because you’re not a walking cliché
yourself,” she retorted, stealing Cupid’s fork and stabbing it into
a pile of scrambled eggs.
    I watched the pair bicker, unable to keep
myself from smiling. Despite their words, they were obviously good
friends. While Veronica’s focus was on Cupid’s food, he winked at
me. “Veronica is just pissed because the cherubim used to be the
highest ranking angels, and now they’re just the help.”
    If I’d have blinked, I would have missed the
movement, but with her free hand, she punched Cupid’s arm. “We
volunteered for this, as you well know,” she told him, smiling in
satisfaction as he rubbed his arm. She turned her attention to me.
“Don’t let him tell you otherwise.”
    “Jeeze, Ronnie, whoever decided to stick you
guys in the kitchen because you couldn’t fight has clearly never
been on the other end of your fist,” Cupid complained.
    “Too right,” Veronica agreed. “We never saw
the front line the last time around. This time, we volunteered to
help and Michael placed us behind the scenes. Everyone just assumes
we’re sulking because we’re the help, as Cupid labeled us. We’re
just pissed we’ve not been given the chance to train in weaponry.
We could kick ass given the chance.”
    “And on that note, I need to take Angel to
our fearless leader,” Cupid interjected.
    Veronica snorted. “Angel? Okay, resorting to
calling us the help was a little immature, but calling new recruits
by their rank is just pathetic.”
    Cupid looked horrified as he stared at
Veronica, but I laughed. “No, I’m Angelina, otherwise known as
Angel, the appropriately named angel. Or, if we’re going to be
picky, the appropriately named Angel Potential.”
    “Oh,” Veronica flushed, a bit of color
finally highlighting her pale cheeks. “I’m sorry, it’s just Cupid
is normally quite bitchy and-”
    “Pot meet kettle,” Cupid sniped, offering his
hand to Veronica for a handshake. “You’re the only person around
here who is bitchier than