Amber Dan-Dwayne Spencer (romantic books to read .txt) 📖

no doubt he was trying to put me under some kind of spell. His fragrance blew my way, filling my senses with a tingly and strangely gratifying sensation.

Not wanting to make eye contact, I glanced behind me. There, standing between the tent’s flaps, was Homer. His head peering in—eavesdropping. He had followed us all across the carnival. When my head turned toward the opening, Phoenix saw him too.

“Homer,” Phoenix shouted. “Don’t you have some visitors to corrupt? Why do you stand there spying on me?”

Without reply, Homer dogged back and the tent flap closed tight.

“Ah, friend of Felisha, remain where you are if you wish. I see it would be futile to continue to cast upon you. You are willful and resistant. You should be proud you can resist my glorious charms.”

Flower huffed, “Pride is a sin. Of all God’s creatures, you should know that.” She crossed her arms and changed the tilt of her head. “I’m only here to ask a question and then you may never see me again.”

“Lover of my soul. You mock me with vain words. If I thought you spoke the truth, my rage would consume me, for I could not bear a life without you.”

“Phoenix, watch your idle tongue. How many times has your rage consumed you, and yet, you rise anew?”

The angel tilted his head in an unassuming pose, and replied, “More times than the years measuring your carnal life.”

“Yes, and what drove you out of your Master’s graces?” She didn’t give him time to respond. “Wasn’t it foolish talk such as that?” She glared at him in disgust. “Remember, you took your eyes off your Creator and dared to gloat about your carnal love for a woman—and it got you thrown out of paradise. Bridle your tongue or your Master will strike you further. As I recall, He is a jealous God.”

I stood totally amazed at how Flower utterly despised this guy. She bravely spat her words at him. But, for me, the sheer idea of talking to an angel was thrilling. Not in the amorous way it affected Seth. No doubt the angel entranced him, but rather, I felt excited with the fascination of it all. I had stood my ground and willfully resisted Phoenix’s commanding geas, his mystic charm. I might have been a bit prideful, just a bit. It also didn’t escape my notice how Flower’s speech had changed since we arrived. I always thought she talked funny, not the ha-ha kind, but the weird kind. Still, she had passed funny back at the gate. Ever since then it had progressed into something heavy—something so far-out—it sounded old.

Phoenix gave us an over-the-shoulder gaze and fluttered his wings so they glimmered once more. This time I heard loud chimes like the gonging doorbell at the Reynold’s house. Seth sighed and said, “Master Phoenix, is there nothing I may do to help your sorrow? Your pain is beyond my measure to contain.”

“I told you to stop it.” Flower sounded pissed. “There is no need to put Seth through the torment of your charms when it is me you wish to mesmerize.”

“I can see my effort is in vain, but you cannot fault me for trying.” He sighed. “What is it you desire of me? You need only speak and I will give you an answer.”

She went straight to the point. “The sheriff of Cherokee County has a vendetta against my commune. It’s unnatural. He is possessed by a spirit and I want to know by whom?”

A puzzled expression weighed on Phoenix’s face. “Unnatural? Possession? I was not aware of any unnatural possession of the dear magistrate.”

“He is not acting naturally, therefore, it must be unnatural.”

“Would you not say, it is natural for one spirit to hold possession of one man?”

“I would say.” Flower’s expression changed to worry. “Explain.”

“Dear Flechia, your Sheriff Briggs died in the accident earlier this year.” He paused and Flower stood in deep thought. Phoenix continued, “He had what you might call an out-of-body experience. His spirit left his body in an astral ascension before his heart stopped, leaving his carnal vessel vacant. An apparition, a spiritual minion owned by angel kind, claimed the beating heart as his own. There is nothing unnatural about one spirit inhabiting one body.” The angel scoffed at her assumption.

“So then, who is it? To whom does this minion hold allegiance?”

“He belongs to the Herald. The one who has come to make the way straight.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop beating around the bush. This poetic crap is driving me nuts. If you know who it is, give us his name.”

Flower said, “I know the name. Phoenix doesn’t have many of his kind here on Earth and as far as I know, only one has been given the title of Herald. The minion possessing the Sheriff belongs to the Herald of the Dawn—Venus.”

Chapter Thirteen

Mr. Dark

Phoenix closed his eyes and slightly bowed. “Now, Venus comes not to usher in the dawn but the dusk.”

Flower scoffed at his reply. “Surely not. You must be mistaken—or you’re lying.”

“I would not lie to my Lady-Love. The truth may burn, but for her, it is a pleasant pain I gladly endure.”

Flower said, “Being an usher is not her only purpose, she has flooded men’s hearts with lust since time began. Why would she change into the harbinger of death now?”

As before, Phoenix’s answer was cryptic. A wicked grin spread across his face. “August the month of angels—number eight. The number nine, the number for the Creator of angels. Unless there has been some defiling slaughter raining death on the day set aside for the angel’s Creator—August ninth. Then I am surely mistaken and your fears are unfounded.”

I thought about what Phoenix said and about what we heard on the Mustang’s radio