With swords poised, angel and mortal champion circled, keeping a significant distance between their blades. Jimmy dodged a second too slow, and the edge of Phoenix’s blade burned through the armor and into his skin, leaving a seared gouge across his chest. On the return swing, Jimmy jumped back, the fiery tip slicing through the blue glow only centimeters away from his skin.
The angel boasted, “You are no match for my glorious splendor—my spectacular skill. Surrender before you feel my true wrath.”
Again Phoenix parried and jabbed. This time he cut a deep gouge in Jimmy’s left arm. The big guy staggered as if to fall. On Phoenix’s return swing, Jimmy straightened his leg behind him and raised his sword to block the searing hot blade.
Edge against edge, wicked and righteous metal clashed, sparks flew, and Jimmy pushed his sword forward. Jimmy’s residual swing looked oddly like a batter’s following through after hitting a home run.
The Sword of Gabriel had cut completely through Ishtar’s flaming blade. When Phoenix drew back, The Sword of Ishtar was two feet shorter. The fallen child of heaven gaped at it in disbelief.
“Come at me again,” Jimmy yelled. “I’ll slice off the rest of your devilish sword of death, and stuff it down your throat.”
Anger—no, nothing less than ultimate rage overtook the angel. He lifted his arms to heaven and roared again.
Jimmy lunged, thrusting the righteous blade at the winged hellion. Phoenix used the blunt sword like a bat, slapping The Sword of Gabriel from Jimmy’s grip. It flew and tumbled, landing fifteen feet away—returning to its disc-like form.
The angel slashed back and forth, stepping close to Jimmy in hopes one of his blows would make contact.
Jimmy ducked low, sliding under the blade’s to-and-fro movement. Emerging inches away from Phoenix’s back, the glowing knight grabbed the angel’s arms and pulled, forcing him to drop the broken sword behind him. He wrapped his forearm across the angel’s throat and locked it tight. With Phoenix in another headlock, Jimmy again pounded Phoenix’s head.
A rush of wings and the wicked child of heaven lifted off the ground—taking Jimmy with him. Phoenix shook and projected a forceful blast from his wings, but instead of dropping back to Earth, the big guy locked his legs around phoenix’s waist and continued to pound. With Jimmy’s awkward mass pressing against the narrow space between Phoenix’s wings, the angel hardly managed to stay airborne.
Owl-like, Phoenix rotated his head into an impossible position and opened his mouth—baring his teeth. Before Jimmy could stop, he socked a pile driver into that open maw and those razor-sharp teeth. Both angel and mortal screamed in pain.
Jimmy fell twenty feet before landing on his back with a thud. He stared at his blood-covered hand. Jimmy’s face grew stern and resolve showed in his eyes. It was the same look he took on when he talked about his drunkard father. I identified it as hate. It looked to be fueling his rage and his stubborn will. The big guy’s armor blinked off, then back on as he tried to stand. He looked like he was forcing the last push-up in Coach Garcia’s callisthenic regiment. He gazed at the ground. Realization flashed in his eyes. He had fallen next to the talisman. There it lay, just beyond his reach.
Phoenix landed directly in front of Jimmy. He put one foot on Jimmy’s back and stood over him.
Stoney advanced on the demon sheriff and slashed the air before him. The enraged monster staying out of the reach of the blessed blades retreated one floating step at a time. After what seemed an eternity of cautious dodging, the monster flexed his claws to an impressive nine inches and jabbed them toward Stoney’s face.
The hippie blocked the strike and sliced a claw off the demon’s knuckle before advancing again. The possessed sheriff back-stepped down the road and retreated between the two obelisks.
Stoney swung again, forcing the wretched demon backward. Slowly they inched toward the gate and the edge of the barrier. Enraged, Stoney slashed through the air, barely missing the retreating hellspawn. It backed out of the gate, passing through the barrier to the outside. The supernatural shield around the cemetery glistened with flashes of colored light. Once outside the gate, the demon-sheriff fell to the ground. Stunned, he staggered to his feet and charged the barrier. Hitting the supernatural astral shielding, he bounced back to the ground. Like rage incarnate, the hellish monster hammered on the barrier with his remaining fist.
The demon shook violently, then stood still. Sparks flew out from his shoulder where a new limb slowly emerged. The muscles and sinew wound together. Bone sprouted—regenerating. When the arm could move again, the demon clasped his fists together and pounded the barrier. Flashes of light sparkled, but the shield remained strong.
With the Sheriff no longer a threat, Stoney ran back to Flower. She had propped herself up against the monument of the harp-playing angel to allow herself time to recover from the tedious ordeal of healing Stoney.
Jimmy moved exceptionally fast for his size when he leg-swept the angel and jumped up, placing a kick between the angel’s wings. It sent the broken sword flying out of the angel’s hand. It plunged blade down into the pile of rubble near the sepulcher—only ten yards away.
With the aid of his wings, Phoenix made a swift in-air reversal and landed on Jimmy’s chest. Trying to gain a handhold, the angel clutched for the fabric of the big guy’s clothing, but the blue glow repelled his grasp. Unable to gain an advantage, Phoenix darted away only to bolt feet first toward Jimmy. The ferocious kick planted directly into the big guy's chest sent him flying, and the fallen child of heaven stepping back to earth.
Jimmy took out three gravestones and busted the side of a sepulcher before coming to a stop. His armor burned a bright blue flame around his form as it protected him. He stood and wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and waved for the angel to approach. “Come on. Is that all you’ve got?” he scoffed.
Phoenix catapulted himself onto Jimmy. The force knocking them both to the ground. Phoenix twisted around and from behind, pushed the knight’s face into the dirt before grabbing Jimmy around the neck with his arm. He grabbed his own wrist and pulled his forearm tight across Jimmy’s throat, constricting the big guy’s airway.
Jimmy gasped for air. He clawed at the ground and tried to reach behind to get a grip on his foe. But the angel remained out of his reach.
“Prepare yourself for a lingering death. I want to see you suffer.” The angel bellowed.
I yelled out, “No. Stop.” For the briefest moment, Phoenix froze. My influence over an angel wasn’t nearly as powerful as it had been on Calypso.
Clawing and searching the ground, Jimmy found the talisman. It instantly formed The Sword of Uriel. He twisted. Wide-eyed in surprise, the angel screamed as Jimmy broke free and drove the talisman’s blade into Phoenix’s chest.
In the next few seconds, fireworks, like I’ve never seen before, exploded from where the angel kneeled. A blaze reaching into the sky set the clouds afire. Slowly the flame traveled overhead, igniting one storm cloud after another until they all erupted into an inferno. A mighty wind exuded from the Phoenix. Heat burned my face and a funnel of fire whirled downward from the calamitous sky, engulfing Phoenix. His flesh glowed with brilliant flashes of sparkling light. The chaos grew in intensity until it consumed him—leaving only ash.
The lightning, gale-force wind, and the massive column of fire ceased. From out of nowhere a torrent of rain fell on the cemetery, extinguishing the flaming trees, graves, and cleansing the air. The downpour lasted only a few minutes, but brought sweet relief to the burning devastation surrounding us.
Jimmy glanced from side to side, expecting another attack from his flank. No attack came. The clouds went silent and broke up, letting sunbeams through to the cemetery.
Flower went straight for Jimmy—evoking her gift, working her miracle, and healing his wounds and blisters.
The demons at the gate and along the fence, who earlier howled and hammered the barrier, stopped caterwauling. They appeared c
onfused—the deformed hellions wandered around in uncertainty. Without their master to focus them and give them purpose, they ambled around in tumultuous bedlam.
Striking out at anything and everything. They began fighting each other—clawing, biting, slashing, and ripping. Rotting demon meat was strewn over the road and red sizzling steam billowed from their wounds, filling the air with a red haze. Beyond the barrier, their Armageddon-style battle raged.
I called for everyone to gather by the praying hands monument. I helped Roger to his feet, and we headed over to the statue. Jimmy cautiously moved toward Roger and me. Roger, yet not fully recovered from his near-death battle with Calypso, sat on the monument’s massive base.
Flower stood over him and put her hands on his temples. His color improved and his breathing became steady. He visibly relaxed as he sat cradling The Book of Uriel in his arms.
It was my turn. Flower put one hand on my brow and her healing flow surged through me just as it had the first night I met her. The blisters melted into my skin and I smelled the delightful aroma of fresh-cut grass. It was only then that I locked eyes with her. Those amazing blue eyes seemed somehow less sparkling, and I’d say she had aged nearly ten years. Her eyes were dark and fatigue drew her brow into furrows. There was no healer for the healer. She needed to rest, but our battle was not over.
When Jimmy handed me the sword, it transformed back into the medallion. I pressed it onto the book’s cover and it sealed tight to the leather.
I pointed to the multitude of demons tearing into each other outside the gate and down the fence row. Some of them fled in fear while others were fighting to the death. We watched in blood-curdling awe as they did our job for us with unbridled ferociousness.
We all walked to the gate together, a team of demon slayers—the gifted chosen of God. I said, “It time to deal with them.”
Roger said, “I read in this book where another prophet called a she-bear out of hibernation to eat a bunch of kids who were making fun of him.” He shrugged. “Just saying, maybe you could do something like that to those demons.”
I turned to the others and said, “This one is my fight. It’s taken me a long time to discover my gift, but now it’s time the child-like prophet grew up. Wait here. This won’t take long.”
Roger argued, “No way. We’re in this together, remember. No more going off on your own.”
A grin spread across my face as we all stepped across the barrier and stood beside the young officer’s police cruiser. Only a couple dozen demons remained, the victorious survivors. Bored with the melee of bloodshed they had wreaked on their own kind, they ceased fighting each other and lashed out at passing cars. They appeared dazed, unaware of the pedestrians gathering to see what was going on in the cemetery. Only the accelerated momentum of the cars caught their attention.
Upon seeing me, the blonde, child-like demon charged headfirst—teeth gaping from her open mouth. Roger stepped in front of me, holding the book with the affixed talisman out before him. The child ran into it, and the talisman adorning the cover sparked. For a split second, she glowed red and amber before she turned to ash.
A particularly ugly demon with excessive stitches holding his sagging flesh in place grabbed a boy off his bicycle and opened its maw to tear into him.
I commanded, “Stop. Burn.”
The demon instantly dropped the child and ignited in amber flames.
Chapter Twenty-six
The Devil’s Spawn
Realizing our power over them, the demons began fleeing from us. Some were getting in the cars, and others were belly crawling away like cockroaches.
“We should stop them and send them all back to hell,” Stoney demanded.
“I have a better idea,” I said before raising my voice loud enough for all the remaining demons to hear. “All demons within the sound of my voice must seek-out other demons and send them back to hell.” I smiled at my own cleverness. “Not even one of you is allowed to harm humans. Your targets are demons—demons only. Now, go far from here and begin your hunt.”
A crowd of residents from Blue Eye were gathering in the road and gawking at the cemetery. The demons walked by them as if they were unaware of their existence. A car passed. Not one demon lunged after it as before.
I looked over at Stoney. “There, how’s that for tying up loose ends. This gang of devil spawn will take out untold hundreds of harmful demons before they get sent back to hell.”
Stoney huffed and stuffed his blades back in his satchel. “I still don’t like it. I’d rather send them all back to Hell on the Stoney express.”
An old man walked up to me and asked what the loud noise was all about. With everything that had happened and the cemetery in a wreck, I thought his question was unusual. I wondered what he was seeing. Surely it wasn’t what I saw or he would run back to Blue Eye in terror. I took him by the arm and closed my eyes. Reaching out with my mind, I instantly got a vision from his point of view. To my surprise, he couldn’t see the spirit world like we could. In his mind, the cemetery looked normal except for a burned tree near the praying hands monument. Demons were only people, normal people, leaving a funeral. They couldn’t see the burned graves, and they thought the broken headstones were as they should be.
I answered, “Lightning struck the tree during a funeral, scared everyone silly. But no one was hurt, and the rain put it out.” I gave him my best trust me eyes. “Nothing to worry about.”
Mr. Dark’s voice reverberated in my mind, “Are you going to open his eyes and let him see what’s actually there?”
“No. It’s best he thinks it’s just another normal day.”
“Makes you wonder what all was going on around you at any given point in time when you were blind to it.”
“Well, I’m not blind now,” I sternly said.
“By the way, I never doubted you. I knew you could do it all the time.”
I withdrew from the passerby’s mind. “Really, Mr. Dark? You lie. You didn’t know anything. You’re the one who was always telling me to run and hide.”
“I knew more than you think.”
“What I think is that this is not over and you know it.”
“True, but we’ve won the first battle.”
“What’s this we business? I didn’t see you doing anything to help.”
“Okay, if you insist. You won your first battle.”
“No. My first battle was in the Roundhouse talking to Kelly Carter. I discovered my gift too late to help him. If I knew then what I’m capable of… I could have saved him.”
“You don’t know, or are you so self-absorbed in your guilt to see it? Remember what Flower said? ‘Some people don’t want to be saved.’ I think he was one of them.”
Only a few demons remained by the cemetery fence. They looked like lost sheep wandering back and forth. In their midst, the sheriff stood beaten, breathless, and confused—staring at me. For a moment I thought my gift had failed. He might charge the same way the demon child did. Then he turned toward his police cruiser and opened the door.
“Stop him.”
“Why should I?” I asked. “He isn’t posing a threat anymore. He lost his master and now he only has the purpose I gave him.”
“Speak the words of commandment. Do it now.”
I yelled, “You who claim to be Sheriff Briggs, stop and look at me.”
The demon stopped, took his hands off the car door, and stepped back. He stood there with his back to me; then slowly, he obeyed, glaring at me with resentful eyes.
“See—cool, right? Isn’t there something you need to fix? I mean, Rose doesn’t need a record, and this guy has falsely arrested her to disguise her kidnapping.”
“Demon,”—I concentrated on my voice and commanded—“go straight to where you are holding Rose and set her free. Afterward, you will leave the body of Sheriff Briggs. I order you.”
A raspy voice replied, “Prophet, where am I to go? Do not cast me out into the air, let me inhabit some
form.”
“To which angel do you give tribute?”
“I am bound to the angel Phoenix.” The raspy voice came from the Sheriff but he didn’t move his mouth.
“Does your master live?”
“Yes, but his power has depleted. Phoenix’s magnificent flame has burned out. He is reborn fragile, helpless, and powerless,” the demon replied.
I turned to Roger, “Is that true?”
“From everything I’ve read in this book I’m holding, these demonized minions have very little mind of their own. They are hive-minded, linked with their angel.” Roger paused in thought. “If his minions don’t know where Phoenix is, then no one would.”
Walking to the police car, I put my hands on the hood and focused my gaze on the Demon. “Where is Phoenix now?”
“He resides at The Cumberland Circus of the Bizarre.”
I thought for a minute, before commanding, “By the word of the prophet, I break your allegiance with Phoenix. You obey me now. Do you understand?”
The demon sheriff’s anger subsided. His confusion ceased and focus re-entered his grotesque face. He had a purpose again. With conviction, he aimed his words directly at me, “I obey the prophet.”
“When you have released the girl named Rose and surrendered this form, return to the carnival. Find a new form to inhabit there.” A thought came to me. “Find Homer the frontman for the Hoochie Coochie and possess him. Do not allow the man called Kelly Carter to be harmed. It’s now your duty to protect him—forever.”
The Sheriff didn’t say a word, but got in his cruiser and left.
Roger whistled and said, “An eternal protector for a guy who will live forever in a cursed carnival. I wish I’d thought of that.”
Silently, I asked Mr. Dark, “Do you think it worked?”
“If it didn’t, you’re not out anything and if it did, you’re way ahead.”
“I’ll have to wait till I get back to the commune to find out,” I mused.
“Yes, you will.” Dark paused. “Phoenix lied to you with every other breath, but the one thing he didn’t lie about is that Ishtar is coming. That was her sword. What he didn’t say was how neck-deep his involvement in the ushering went. Ishtar made a deal with him. She would give him the power to break his bond and in return, he would usher in the antichrist’s herald.”
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