Read Online Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) by C. L. Coffey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: C. L. Coffey
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high-pitched screech echoing around us.
Much of my training had revolved around
defense, and for several minutes, that was all I could manage, blocking blow
after blow. Finally, I caught his sword at the right angle and purely through
fluke, managed to twist my arm, jarring it free. It shot from out of his hands.
I was so startled at that accomplishment,
he caught me with a high kick to my hand – he may have looked old, but he
didn’t move like an old man. Without meaning to, I let go of my sword and it
went flying to the side, clattering across the stone just out of reach. My eyes
followed the sword to where it had landed instead of keeping their focus on Valac.
He had punched the side of my head so hard, I thought I was going to throw up.
Stunned, he took advantage once again and swung his fist once more. The blow to
my cheek sent me tumbling down, my side taking the full impact as I hit the
ground.
The fall winded me, but before I could
catch my breath, Valac was on top of me. I only just managed to get my arms
over my head so they could field the worst of the blows aimed at my face. Still
winded, and with Valac’s weight pressing down on my chest, I couldn’t breathe,
much less work out how to get him off me.
“It’s in your head,” Michael’s voice rang out
as I struggled to inhale while fending off the blows raining down on me. “Your
vessel does not need to breathe in the same way your body did.”
Being an angel meant that I could move
faster, and be stronger, for longer. It didn’t mean that I could survive
without breathing. My heart didn’t beat the same way it used to, but it still
beat. I could feel it hammering in my chest now. From under my hands, I caught
Michael staring helplessly at me: I had no choice but to survive this. I knew
in my gut if I didn’t survive, Michael wouldn’t either. Why did I always have
such a problem believing in the impossible?
I closed my eyes, sent a quick, silent
prayer out, and then allowed what oxygen was left in my lungs to leave. I was
dead. I was an angel . This wasn’t my body, but my vessel. I allowed
myself to believe it – to accept it. No sooner had I done that, then I could
feel the restrictions in my chest lifting.
But I could also feel something else. Even
as I continued to fend of the blows, beneath me the ground was vibrating. At
first I thought it was one hit to my body too many, but then Valac pausing in
his punches long enough for us both to look up along the tracks.
TRAIN!
“Michael!” I screamed. I reached out,
grabbing onto a rock, and then swung my arm with all the strength I could
muster. It hit the back of Valac’s head hard enough to cast off blood. Valac
lurched, swearing, and I swung again. He fell to the side, clutching the side
of his head. I scrambled away from him as the train sounded its horn in short,
loud blasts.
I lunged for the nearest sword, half-clambering,
half-crawling across the ballast. My hands curled around the hilt, finding my
grip, just as Valac threw himself at me, and his arms wrapped around my legs.
My head was spinning and there was the coppery taste of blood in my mouth – I
was surprised I could only feel a large cut in the side of my cheek instead of
a gaping hole where a tooth had come out. From somewhere deep inside, I found
one last burst of energy.
I jerked a foot free, losing a boot in the
process, but kicked it at Valac’s head. I hadn’t done as much damage as I could
have done with the boot still on, but Valac grunted, nonetheless, and his grip
on me lessened. I pulled myself out, just enough that I could sit and get a
reasonable angle as I swung my arm around, my hand clutching tightly to the
sword as it impaled Valac through his chest, all the way to the hilt. He dropped
limply on top of my legs, the blade preventing him from completely trapping me.
I pushed his body up with my foot, feeling a wet trickle down my leg as I pulled
the sword free. With one last thrust, I kicked him off me
Much of my training had revolved around
defense, and for several minutes, that was all I could manage, blocking blow
after blow. Finally, I caught his sword at the right angle and purely through
fluke, managed to twist my arm, jarring it free. It shot from out of his hands.
I was so startled at that accomplishment,
he caught me with a high kick to my hand – he may have looked old, but he
didn’t move like an old man. Without meaning to, I let go of my sword and it
went flying to the side, clattering across the stone just out of reach. My eyes
followed the sword to where it had landed instead of keeping their focus on Valac.
He had punched the side of my head so hard, I thought I was going to throw up.
Stunned, he took advantage once again and swung his fist once more. The blow to
my cheek sent me tumbling down, my side taking the full impact as I hit the
ground.
The fall winded me, but before I could
catch my breath, Valac was on top of me. I only just managed to get my arms
over my head so they could field the worst of the blows aimed at my face. Still
winded, and with Valac’s weight pressing down on my chest, I couldn’t breathe,
much less work out how to get him off me.
“It’s in your head,” Michael’s voice rang out
as I struggled to inhale while fending off the blows raining down on me. “Your
vessel does not need to breathe in the same way your body did.”
Being an angel meant that I could move
faster, and be stronger, for longer. It didn’t mean that I could survive
without breathing. My heart didn’t beat the same way it used to, but it still
beat. I could feel it hammering in my chest now. From under my hands, I caught
Michael staring helplessly at me: I had no choice but to survive this. I knew
in my gut if I didn’t survive, Michael wouldn’t either. Why did I always have
such a problem believing in the impossible?
I closed my eyes, sent a quick, silent
prayer out, and then allowed what oxygen was left in my lungs to leave. I was
dead. I was an angel . This wasn’t my body, but my vessel. I allowed
myself to believe it – to accept it. No sooner had I done that, then I could
feel the restrictions in my chest lifting.
But I could also feel something else. Even
as I continued to fend of the blows, beneath me the ground was vibrating. At
first I thought it was one hit to my body too many, but then Valac pausing in
his punches long enough for us both to look up along the tracks.
TRAIN!
“Michael!” I screamed. I reached out,
grabbing onto a rock, and then swung my arm with all the strength I could
muster. It hit the back of Valac’s head hard enough to cast off blood. Valac
lurched, swearing, and I swung again. He fell to the side, clutching the side
of his head. I scrambled away from him as the train sounded its horn in short,
loud blasts.
I lunged for the nearest sword, half-clambering,
half-crawling across the ballast. My hands curled around the hilt, finding my
grip, just as Valac threw himself at me, and his arms wrapped around my legs.
My head was spinning and there was the coppery taste of blood in my mouth – I
was surprised I could only feel a large cut in the side of my cheek instead of
a gaping hole where a tooth had come out. From somewhere deep inside, I found
one last burst of energy.
I jerked a foot free, losing a boot in the
process, but kicked it at Valac’s head. I hadn’t done as much damage as I could
have done with the boot still on, but Valac grunted, nonetheless, and his grip
on me lessened. I pulled myself out, just enough that I could sit and get a
reasonable angle as I swung my arm around, my hand clutching tightly to the
sword as it impaled Valac through his chest, all the way to the hilt. He dropped
limply on top of my legs, the blade preventing him from completely trapping me.
I pushed his body up with my foot, feeling a wet trickle down my leg as I pulled
the sword free. With one last thrust, I kicked him off me
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