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“I thought you might ask that.” Cimil pulled a set of keys from her pocket and handed them to Damien. “Have a look around. They’re all off at some retreat today.”
“What are these for?”
“Keys to the top floor. Be sure to check out room twelve. It’s the reason I didn’t stop the trafficking.” She smiled. “Sometimes, sacrifices must be made in the name of the bigger picture.”
Damien’s heart skipped a beat, and his soul filled with dread.
“Sometimes, you have to have faith, Damien.” She sighed and fell into a blank stare.
What was wrong with her? Damien snapped his fingers. “Cimil?”
She popped back to life. “Okay! This has been fun! If you want the job, meet me in Bacalar. I’ll send you the coordinates. Adios, tailor.” Cimil turned and stopped. “Oh, by the way, why does your brother call you that? Why not use your name?”
“He enjoys antagonizing me.” His brother thought being a tailor was the profession of a wimp, due to the lack of killing. Damien called his brother a beast because his brother thought he was some sort of supernatural god. Really, his brother was an animal.
“Well, tell him I look forward to his mass murders and bloodshed. He’s really good at that stuff. Ta-ta.”
Damien frowned, watching Cimil disappear into the elevator. Something bumped him hard and then poked him in the ass.
He turned. Nothing was there, but he could smell it in the air. Evil. “I’m going, Minky. You do not need to stay behind.”
The door to the stairwell opened and shut.
Damien looked at the key in his hand, feeling sick to his stomach. Cimil had known all along what the people upstairs were doing and didn’t stop them. He was about to find out why.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Damien pulled into his spot behind his shop and put the top up on his black Jag. He flipped open the vanity mirror and combed his windblown hair. A pair of turquoise eyes stared back.
It was going to take a long while to get used to not seeing his hazel eyes anymore as well as being officially immortal, infused with the light of the gods.
He did not recall much about the events that followed after he’d met Cimil in Bacalar, Mexico, to formally accept the job. One second he was standing in the jungle at the edge of an ancient Mayan spring, called acenote, and the next he was waking up, drenched from head to toe, next to the water’s edge.
The pool must’ve been one of the portals to the gods’ realm he’d heard rumors about within the immortal community, because when he woke, he had the gods’ light coursing through his veins. His body was stronger, and he felt more in control of his beast. Yet, at the same time, he knew his brother was more dangerous than ever. The beast was rumbling like thunder and stirring like a violent hurricane, ready for destruction.
It was a good thing that he and Sky had gone their separate ways.For the best.
When Willa woke up in her new body, he’d need to steer clear of her, too. A second chance for both women could not be cut short by his brother.
“Are you going to stare at yourself all day?” Pet snapped from the passenger seat of his jag.
“Maybe.” He picked up Pet from the little pink pillow he had sewn for her and strapped in so it wouldn’t blow away with the top down. To the average driver, he looked like a very disturbed man with a doll riding shotgun, but that was fine. This was LA. Humans had seen weirder.
“My wings itch.” She squirmed inside her bandage.
“That is a good sign. It means they are healing.” Damien entered the shop. MF was already busy at work, sewing the hem of a green satin dress with a lace bodice and square-cut neckline. “I see you’re adding your own touches to my designs.”
“You’re back.” MF popped up from the seat and gave him a hug.
He stiffly patted her on the back. Just because his curse was no longer an issue did not mean he enjoyed being touched by everyone.
MF let him go. “I heard what you’re going to do for me.”
Ah, yes. Hunt down the last living vampire. “I have been tasked with locating him, yes. But I am told he does not want to be found. Apparently, he has been hunted by the locals for a very long time and is a master of evasion.”
“How do you think he survive the blast?”
Cimil never explained any of that. He guessed it had been a matter of luck. “Perhaps we’ll never know.”
