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

Across the road from the toppled obelisk and a few steps closer to the gate, the van stood partially affixed to the tree, sliding door wide open. I gripped the bag under one arm and held my tee over my head, as best I could, while running for the open door. Roger must have thought it was a good idea too, because he ran after me and piled into the far back seat.

Moments later, Phoenix reached the obelisk. He stopped and inspected the stone before he clawed down into one of the crevices I had broken open. He threw dirt one way and the other, finally overturning the obelisk’s granite base. Roaring with rage, he tossed the heavy black monument stone away. It broke a row of headstones before tumbling to the ground. With both hands he dug deeper into the earth searching for the Talisman.

I laid the bag on the middle seat beside me and scrutinized it. Inside I found a small wooden box, maybe six inches deep, twelve inches across, and fourteen inches long, with a golden veneer. Four rings adorned two sides of the container. The hinged lid was heavy, and on it kneeled two angel figurines. Frozen in gold, they bowed to each other. The miniature winged statues held cups, and in unison, poured a solid golden stream onto the lid. Inside the box, I found a book—The Book of Uriel.

It appeared common. Brown distressed leather, golden tips on the corners, and a multi-pointed star-emblazoned the cover from a centered gemstone. With no title on it, I still knew without a doubt, it was the book we were searching for.

Roger and I sat in the shelter of the van admiring the book. The center of the embossed star was especially beautiful—the gem—a sparkling yellow topaz set in a disc of blue Lapis. I gazed deep into its sparkling splendor. There, suspended in the amber color, were the words I had just spoken, Dei Angelus Vero Benedicam. This disc had to be the talisman we were searching for. I pulled at it, but it didn’t detach. I pulled at it again. It held onto the leather by something stronger than me.

From the back seat, Roger told me, “Talk to it. Remember, ‘by the word of the child-like prophet, he will rain justice on the Earth.’ Okay, that’s not exactly what Flower wrote in her notes, but it’s close.”

I nodded to Roger, then commanded it to detach. It fell off into my hand. The flat disc fitted comfortably in my palm and weighed about the same as a baseball. The only protrusion on it was the faceted gemstone in the center.

The hammering thud of falling stone on metal quieted. The sprinkling rain of brimstone pebbles abruptly stopped.

Roger took the book from the seat. Quickly, he turned pages, reading as fast as possible—soaking up as much of its secrets as he could before Phoenix came for it. I knew he would. That was why he appeared—to get the book and the talisman for Ishtar. I wrapped the golden box in my smoldering Bruce Lee tee and stuffed it under the seat of the van.

Since the hail of fiery brimstone had stopped, I stepped out of the van, and with the talisman in hand, ran toward Stoney and Flower. I didn’t quite make it before Phoenix flexed his wings and a concussive wave of force knocked me to the ground. I scrambled to my feet seventy-five feet from where Stoney and Flower stood next to the monumental cross.

With each sizzling step, steam rose from Phoenix’s sandaled feet as he approached. He roared upward, toward heaven before glaring down at me. “I am victory incarnate. Join me or be decimated by my magnificence.”

“Go to Hell, Phoenix. I know what you want and you’re not getting your slimy hands on the talisman,” I yelled. “I’ll use it on you if you take another step.” I sounded brave, but the truth was I had no idea how to make good on my threat.

Holding his fists out to his sides, lightning flashed and danced across his winged form. “Child Prophet, give me the talisman and avoid the pain of a lingering death.” He cackled a maniacal laugh that sent chills up my spine. “Compared to me, you are nothing more than an insect. See me stand on consecrated soil. I have taken the power upon myself to resist the stinging darts of this cursed place,” Phoenix trumpeted.

He waved his right arm to the sky. “Behold Calypso, the Mage of Ishtar,” then waving his left hand, “and my loyal Dominion in possession of the mortal form of Sheriff Briggs.”

The two abominations imbued with mystic prowess descended from the cloud of flies above and hovered inches over the sanctified soil; one on each side of the angel who stood flat-footed and ablaze with electrical fire. “They will feast on your flesh like birds of prey claiming carrion on the battlefield. See them and tremble, for they are the harbingers of your doom.”

I stood there, the focus of his rage, my friends yards away. I suddenly felt vulnerable and alone.

To my right, Stoney had stripped off his tie-dye T-shirt and donned a leather harness with two-inch-wide straps that buckled around his chest and secured over his shoulders. A handle attached to the back of it allowed Flower to hold on to him, and in turn, her healing power could rejuvenate him if he were wounded.

He reached into his satchel and drew out two long daggers. Without hesitation he attacked the sheriff, plunging the steel into the demon’s side. Red steam hissed, erupting from the wound. The demon’s face contorted in confusion.

“Surprised, Demon? You should be. These are blades blessed by the sainted protector of the Jerusalem church, Baldwin IV, The Leper King.” Stoney laughed. “They burn demon flesh to cinder and have