Free Angel Tormented (The Louisiangel Series Book 3) by C. L. Coffey

and collapsed back on
the ground, trying to get my vision to stop dancing while willing myself to
stop trembling.
    The train blasted its horn again. It wasn’t
just a beam of light and a horn anymore. The metal dragon was taking form, its
body so long I couldn’t see the end, just the silhouettes of the shipping
containers on the carriages behind it.
    I ignored the blood covering me and started
to hobble over to Michael. My ankle was hurting – I think I had twisted it –
and my good foot was missing a shoe, but if the choice was between a broken ankle
or losing Michael, there was only one option.
    I had barely taken two steps when
something seemed to explode behind me, the energy of a shockwave knocking me
off my feet. The impact of my hands hitting the ground, jarring the bones sent
pain shooting up my arm. My wrist snapped from under me and I crumpled, my arms
unable to keep my weight. I lay on the ground, screaming at the agony. My
vision went white.
    “Angel?” Michael called, the panic in his
voice forcing me to lift my head up.
    “What was that?” I grunted, looking behind
me, barely seeing anything past the dancing white spots.
    “Valac. When angelic beings are killed,
their energy is released from their vessels violently,” he explained.
    The hot, burning pain from my wrist was
making my world spin. Using my good arm, wincing as the grazed palm bit into
the stone below, I pushed myself to my knees, screaming at the exertion. “Sweet
mother of God,” I sobbed, trying not to throw up at the sight of my left wrist
lying limply in my lap. The pain was excruciating. Just the action of
breathing, the arm rising and falling slightly as I did, sent agonizing bolts
of pain pulsing everywhere.
    “Angel!” Michael called again, causing me
to look in his direction. Michael was finally standing, although rocking on the
spot. I dug deep. I was hurt, but I was alive. If I didn’t move, and quickly,
it would be Michael who would … With a roar of determination, I managed to get
to my feet and hobble over to him, gritting my teeth against the blinding agony
as I moved. “Angel, you need to get out of here,” he told me, his voice already
sounding weaker. Michael’s skin had a sheen to it, and under the artificial
security lights looked gray. His eyes flickered anxiously as he looked over my
wounds.
    “Not a problem,” I agreed, doing my upmost
to not sound – or feel – like I was going to pass out. “Only you’re coming with
me.”
    “I’m not going anywhere,” Michael said
quietly. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath and tumbled to his knees, his eyes
momentarily losing focus. He took another breath and clenched his fists against
his thighs. “We don’t have time to break this trap.”
    “Maybe I can pull you out,” I suggested.
My voice had gone high-pitched, desperate, and I couldn’t keep the sob from it.
I glanced down the track towards the train. In a few minutes, the headlight
would pick us up. There wasn’t much time. I took another step towards Michael –
I was getting him out of there.
    “No!” he snapped. I froze. “If you cross
the line, you will get stuck too.” I dropped to my knees, looking for the outline
of the tracks. Did dark traps work like dark sigils? “It’s the tracks,” Michael
told me, as though he knew what I was looking for. I didn’t acknowledge him,
instead getting closer to the steel tracks which were now humming loudly from
the vibrations of the approaching train.
    “I can stop the train!” I cried,
scrambling to my feet. I limped a few steps, trying to keep on the wood which held
the tracks in place, without crossing the steel, but I was in so much pain, a
fresh wave of tears fogged my eyes.
    “Angel, the train is too close and moving
too fast. You will not stop it in time,” Michael called after me.
    I gritted my teeth. “I just have to move
fast,” I ground out, forcing one foot in front of the other, trying to ignore
how light-headed I was