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

Author:C. L. Coffey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy, angels, new orleans, paranormal romance, young adult, new adult

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Psychic

We waited until someone from Victim Support arrived to take our place and take them into the morgue. After making sure the door had been locked behind them, I followed Joshua back to the car and sank in, exhausted. I can honestly say I would rather flog myself to death on the treadmill than ever go through that again.

“You want to get something to eat?” Joshua asked me quietly.

“I’m not sure how hungry I feel,” I replied, shaking my head.

He pursed his lips and pulled away, but instead of taking the turn to lead us back to the causeway, he went in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going now?” I asked him wearily.

“To get some food.”

“But I said I wasn’t hungry,” I sighed.

Joshua firmly shook his head. “You said you weren’t sure, and trust me, after that, you will appreciate a very big steak.”

“Whatever,” I half agreed, keeping my attention on the world outside the car. Despite living here for so long, I had never really explored this side of the lake all that much. In fact, as he turned off the main roads and onto the back ones, I realized that I had no real idea of where we were.

I was too tired to argue anymore though. I just sat back and watched the cars passing by. We drove for a while until he turned off down a dirt road, driving carefully over the uneven surface until we pulled up outside a structure that resembled a shed, named ‘Gator Al’s’. I turned and arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

He tutted at me. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he chided, getting out of the car.

I followed him into the shed to be greeted by the most enormous man I had ever seen – both up and out. “Josh, it’s been a while.”

“You got room for two, Al?” Joshua asked, gesturing around the half empty bar. Al laughed – a long, deep noise that had his belly wobbling at the effort. He indicated we should follow and led us through to a table at the back, by a window that overlooked the bayou behind.

I sat down, examining my surroundings. Surprisingly it was much bigger on the inside than it looked from out front. It looked like a redneck hunting lodge. There were dead animals turned into trophies, hanging all over the room, ranging from a deer head, raccoons, possums – right up to the twelve foot alligator hanging over the bar. There seemed to be about four or five different sets of furniture, which, like the floor, were covered in a thick layer of dirt, leaves and the occasional crawfish shell.

“You’re turning your nose up and you haven’t even had the steak yet,” Joshua said, disapprovingly.

I wrinkled my nose. “A steak from what?” I asked, eyeing the gator. “And for the record, if the kitchen is anything like the floor, I'm not eating.”

“Just think of it as seasoning,” he grinned at me.

Al returned carrying two glasses of murky looking water, along with two bottles of beer.

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