Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 14

On Friday Winfield likewisek Damon and me to institute fitted for a custom suit. A visit to Pinottos tailor might bugger off been fun at some opposite shew in my life as it had been the night I went shopping with Lexi in New Orleans. Pasquale Pinotto was a master of his craft, descended from a long line of tailors to kings and promote of Europe. With his pince-nez glasses and chalk and measuring tape approximately his neck, he could harbor been someone out of a fairy tale. I enjoyed trying to talk the few words of Italian I knew to him he took pleasure in it as well, though he corrected my accent. Damon, of course, pretended that he but wanted to speak English instantly that he was in the States which is how he got around the tailors delight at meeting a helpmate countryman.Look at this. Damon held up a poop out of scarlet blushful silk to his face. We could have our jackets lined with it. Doesnt it just bring out the color in my lips? Or Lydias neck? He moved it to t he side, just about where the fang wounds would have been on him.Winfield looked confused. She has taken to wearing scarves around her neck, lately. Is that what you mean? Its dashed special(a) she never used to.Damon flicked him a quick look, a flash of ramp and annoyance so fast only I caught it. It was interesting that Mr. Sutherland discover the subtle changes occurring around him, even if he was ultimately powerless against Damons compulsion. Although whatever safety the rich old man had was in staying completely swinish of my brothers schemes.I leaned against the wall for support, tension exhausting me. I felt claustrophobic among all the rolls of expensive fabric and labyrinthine rooms of mirrors and sewing machines, as trapped in that room as I was in my life.Mr. Sutherland make his way to a chair to rest his ponderous bulk. He seemed a touch fidgety he kept reaching for his cigar, but he was not allowed to fumigate one of his famous cigars in the atelier, as the smo ke would ruin the fabric.Now here is some framework I am thinking you will like, Signor Pinotto said, presenting us with black wool kink so fine and soft it might have been silk. I get it from a tiny village in Switzerland. They workLeave the cloth to me, Winfield said, twirling an unlit cigar in his hand. I know the business. Let the young custody pick out whatever style they want.Damon started looking through the jackets, draw one out and holding it against him to see how it fit.In this morning pelage and that black crepe, well look like real creatures of the night, Damon observed. Dont you think so, Stefan?Yes, yes we will, I concur stonily.Here, try this on. Damon tossed me a smaller version of the jacket. Dutifully, I took off my suffer and put it on. The jacket fit me well except for being too big in the shoulders and chest. Damon was distracted by the tailor and Winfield, discussing patterns and linings and buttons. It occurred to me in that irregular that I could leap out the window and run away. Would my brother actually carry through on all of his threats? Would he sincerely eat the Sutherlands or worse?But then I thought of the subject in blood and realized I would never let the mankind find out the answer to that question. I wanted no more(prenominal) deaths on my conscience.Is that the sort of thing young men prance around town in these days? Winfield asked, frowning at my jacket. Ive never really been a what did you call it? creature of the night. Damon gave him a cold smile. Never give voice never.And then Damon was suddenly standing next to me in front of the mirror, buttoning up his jacket and fluffing out the tails. Very assiduously he fixed mine as well.Well, would you look at that, he said to our reflections, putting an build up around my shoulders. We could almost be brothers.We were brothers at one time, I hissed so quietly that only Damons highly tuned ears could hear. Though you are now as alien to me as the devil hims elf.Eh? Winfield looked up. You do resemble each other a little. The hair. And the face. He waved a hand vaguely at us. then(prenominal) he smiled widely. Ill have a whole set of matching grandchildren lashings of them, dandling on my knees.Damon grinned. Absolutely. I plan on having a large family, Mr. Sutherland. Its classical that my bloodline goes on.Youre really pushing it, I said.I havent even started, he whispered, smiling.Oh really? Then what was that message you left for me in blood? I said.Damons forehead crinkled. Message?Actually, I rather like the scarlet. Winfield held a bolt of the fabric in his hands, and didnt seem to notice the tension in the air. Its perfect. Damon DeSangue bloodred, or of blood, right?Damon looked surprised. I was taken off guard, too.I speak 4 languages, boys, Winfield said with a bit of a growl in his grin. And plunder read another four. I-tal-ian is just one.So Sutherland wasnt quite the buffoon he appeared to be. There were layers in hi m, and of course there had to be for such a successful businessman.And speaking of languages, ho bisogno di vino, something to wet my throat. I brought something from my own cellar, a fantastic amontillado. Care to join me?I really could drain a good Sutherland dry just about now, Damon said gamely, clapping me on the shoulder like our future father-in-law did.I slumped in despair. When wed first occasion vampires, Id wanted nothing more than to spend eternity with my brother. But now I couldnt wait to be rid of him.