Attrition of the Gods: Book 1 of the Mystery Thriller series Gods Toys. by P.G. Burns Read Free Book Online

truth to others.
    Any hope of rescue is pointless; the Djinn will have all bases covered. The guards will have been taken care of and the only other witnesses are the criminal underworld’s incarcerated brethren.
    He begins to mumble to himself, “Don’t cower and do not beg.”
    “What yaw saying old man?” asks Errol with his exaggerated Jamaican accent. “Did you just call me a nigger?”
    Leo does not respond as he stares into his book. He thinks back to the first day he met Simeon, the man (or whatever he was) who opened his eyes. He had not asked to have his eyes opened. No, in fact he was very happy walking around with them fully shut. What has anyone gained from this knowledge he was now privy too? Ever since he found out about the secret of the Djinn he had been hiding out, trying to avoid an untimely demise. Simeon told him that he had picked him for a reason, that it was his job to pass the information on to another, one who would become a great leader.
    “You will know him when you see the beautiful woman on his arm,” Simeon had assured him.
    Leo had no idea what this meant. Plenty of men have beautiful ladies hanging onto their arms but he was pretty sure that he was not going to see any women in this place, on anyone’s arms or otherwise. If there was one thing he has learned it is that everything is planned, right down to his imminent violent death.
    “I said, what did you say old man?” Errol leaned over the desk and put his face right up to Leo’s.
    Bird stood behind him, holding a garrotte made from torn and twisted drinks cans. Errol upped the volume as he screamed into Leo’s face.
    “You’re the fucking kiddie fiddler, aren’t yaw? You de one that like fucking likkle boys, am I right?”
    Leo is aware this disgusting jibe was just a way of goading him; however, it is also the worst possible insult to aim at a Jewish elder who has four beautiful grandchildren. A shadow falls across his face and anger builds up inside of him as he reflects that he will probably never see them again.
    “You repulse me,” says Leo, his voice shaking.
    Errol looks impressed. He turns to Bird. “We got a brave blood clot here.”
    Bird laughs and becomes a little hysterical as he hears Errol cough up thick green phlegm from the back of his throat. He turns to Leo and spits, splattering it into his face. When the old guy attempts to reach for a handkerchief Errol restrains both his hands, leaving him powerless to stop the disgusting liquid running across his lips. Bird is now doubling over in cruel guttural laughter.
    Errol continues his taunts. “What’s wrong, yaw not like it? It not feels like the likkle boys jizz on yaw filthy Jewish face?”
    A sudden loud thud distracts Errol and he turns around to look at Bird, but instead sees Shane standing in his place. Errol releases Leo’s hands. He looks down and sees Bird, the six-foot-eleven, twenty-six-stone career bully lying at this new guy’s feet, the spittle bubbling from his lips the only indicator that he is alive.
    “What the fu…”              
    Errol doesn’t finish his sentence as Shane Mills smashes his fist into his face. The end of the teaspoon Shane holds in his fist splits Errol’s cheekbone near in half, the force and pain causing him to collapse to the floor. Shane then leaps behind Errol, placing his forearm under his chin compounding the pain. He squeezes hard enough to limit the air supply, being careful not to cut off his blood supply, thus rendering Errol unconscious but not dead. Leo watches in awe as this athletic-looking warrior saves his life. The elation of being saved, however, cannot distract Leo from staring at the tattoo on his saviour’s arm – a beautiful woman and not just any beautiful woman. As a scribe to the Rabbi when he was a child Leo was fascinated by angels, so he recognises the tattoo of a woman holding a bow and arrow as Amitiel, the Angel of Truth.

Frankfurt, 1744
“I want to be with