Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Me? Find him? I don’t believe I have accepted this role yet. Or fully understand what it entails. Nor have you answered my questions. Why have me hunting down answers for a cure to the blast? Why lie?”
“Because in order to do your job properly, you need to care. Which meant you had to see yourself through the eyes of the creatures you will be helping. You needed a mirror to break your curse.”
“I do not understand.”
“Willamina did not curse you. She was simply telling your future—that you would live on, tormented and feeling afraid to care about anyone ever again.”
“Then how have I remained alive after so long? How does everyone I care for end up dead?”
“You just have really bad luck, but not everyone dies. Your little entourage is full of examples.”
So they were right? “What about Sky’s death?”
“Pet gets the credit for that one. Very nice of you to sew on her wings, by the way.”
“Cimil, how am I still alive?” he growled impatiently.
“Ah! Now there is the fun pickle. Your bloodline was knocked out prematurely by the plague, and when they died, they left their remaining years to you.”
“How is that possible?”
“How do you house two souls in one body? Why does the moon only smell like cheese on Wednesdays? How do baby birds know to fly south for the winter when most skip baby bird kindergarten? The Universe is a mysterious woman, and your kind happens to be very skilled at storing life energy.”
This made no sense. Pure fucking garble! Their bloodline was a genetic anomaly. Wasn’t it?
Cimil went on, “And now comes the kicker. Are you ready for this, Damien? Because it’s a doozy!” Cimil chuckled. “You’re almost out of juice.”
“What?”
“Juice. Oomph. Life light. You’re going to die in two days.”
“I am?” All these years, he’d said he would welcome death. He would run towards the light singing. And now his day was almost here. True peace.
“So you get to choose, Damien. You can die and join the other souls in the great poker hall of the Underworld, or you can pick what’s behind door number two: immortality. For real this time. But just know, if you choose to die, I cannot bring back Sky.”
He frowned. “Why not? Your deal was with her.”
“And, as I told her, if you accept the role, I will give her a second chance at life. But her soul is anchored to yours. If you die in two days’ time, she goes with you to the Underworld.”
“Why can’t you bring her back now? Untether us?”
“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 a cenote, and the next he was waking up, drenched from head to toe, next to the water’s edge.