The Immortal Tailor Read Online Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Myth/Mythology, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
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“You are going anywhere but here. Get out!”

“But I made you biscuits!”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

While Damien changed into all-black clothing, the type one wore to break into a home at night, he got a text message on his phone.

Number unknown.

Please, Damien, I know you’re angry with me, but you need to let Amelia and Miguel stay here.

He looked around his large walk-in closet. Sky was texting him. From where? And where did she get a phone? This must’ve been part of her online shopping.

Damien: How are you texting me?

Sky: Same way I drive a car, with my hands

Smart ass. Still, he had to admit, the ghost had skills.

Damien: No, they cannot stay.

Sky: You’re worried about your curse.

How did she know about that? Perhaps Cimil had told her. Who knew what sorts of conversations occurred between the dead and the deities or even other ghosts?

Damien: You’re a fool if you think your sister and her son will be safe with me.

Sky: No one else can protect them. And Amelia hates your type. That makes it safe for her, right?

Wrong.

Damien: I do not care. Tell them to stay somewhere else.

Sky: You killed me. You owe me. Period.

Did she have to keep pulling that card? Because she was right. He took her life, he owed her a debt, and all debts needed to be paid. On the other hand, this request was completely illogical. Sky was a smart woman. She had experienced his curse firsthand. If she truly cared for her family, why put them in harm’s way?

Damien: This I cannot do. I am sorry.

He set down his phone and finished dressing. Black jeans. Black T-shirt. Black baseball cap and boots.

He went for his safe.

Yes, tailor. Get the big knife. I like using that one, said the beast.

“Not now!” Damien went for the pocketknife and tucked it into his boot.

Pussy.

He had no intention of killing anyone tonight. He merely wanted answers, eventually justice, too.

He went downstairs, grabbed the keys to his Jeep, and went to the garage.

Sonofabitch! His work van was gone. It was the one used to make deliveries to customers.

“Where is my fucking van!” He marched into the kitchen, finding it empty. The mess was still there.

Just then, a pic came in on his phone. It was of Sky driving and flipping him off. She wore his sunglasses, a baseball cap, gloves, and a scarf. The face was…well, odd, like she’d plastered her skin in makeup. She almost looked like a real person, except the sun was going down, so the hat and sunglasses came off as a little suspicious. Still, he had to hand it to her; for a ghost, she was fairly crafty.

Wait. He looked closer at the picture. Was that Gorgo and Pet in the backseat? “I can’t believe she took my van.” But as long as they were gone like he’d asked, they could have it.

I like her. She’s got balls, tailor. Maybe you should let her stay indefinitely, said his beast.

“Fuck off.”

Just as soon as you give me what I want, I’ll fuck off, fuck in, fuck out. I’ll fuck anything you like. I’ll even fuck your ghost and her sister too.

Damien’s entire body tensed with anger. “You get near them, and I’ll end this.” Not that anything could be done to Sky, but the sister, yes. Either way, the idea raised his hackles.

As if you could, tailor.

“Let us break this down so there are no misunderstandings. I am alive because of a curse. Other than the fact you influenced the events leading up to it, you have nothing to do with my curse. Separate animals.” The beast had been there since the day he was born. Just like his father and his father before him. They all suffered from the same affliction. “Other than that, I choose which path to take. Including life or death.”

In other words, the curse prevented Damien from being killed or dying of old age. The curse also mowed down anyone he cared about. However, the curse did not prohibit him from taking his own life. It was a loophole he’d always known about, but one he never considered using. “Suicide is the way of the fool,” his father used to say. “It means you do not trust you were born for a greater purpose. It means you think you are smarter than God, the Universe, and fate. That cannot be.”

So while ending his life had technically been an option, Damien never considered it, thus the reason he said there was no way to break his curse. Suicide wasn’t breaking it, it was running from it. But if he couldn’t keep his bloodthirsty genie in check, he might have to take action.

“You will behave,” Damien warned, “or I will end us both.”

Your threats are adorable, tailor. But I will have what pleases me. I always do.



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