Chapitre 10: 10. Baby, One More Time.
It took me three days, and then the liberation gigs were over. Next, it took two weeks for me to go see everyone's relatives and once again, now Murdock wanted to come with me. It was time for me to share our losses and somehow my five had earned this trust. So a guy like Murdock, a stone-cold killer, wants to meet relatives and see plaques about lives lost. It is almost amazing. He also came to Lake Lanier, and I showed him how Wulfe had decorated the full plaques. Murdock sat next to me. Looked over at Lake Lanier, and sighed.
Then he said, "You know what, sometimes, not always, but sometimes I wish I could feel as deeply as you, not be sociopath or psychopath, but human, with feelings,"
I paused a while, looked at him, and said, " I am not sure if I am normal. Do my feelings count as normal or am I just as psycho as you?"
He looked at me and said, "You, girl, you have feelings and deep. I mean nothing in my life, no matter who would leave me, would never make me drink and try to end my existence. I don't have that kind of emotion."
I stopped my carving for a bit, and asked, "You want to feel why? Why I was so hellbent to stop feeling, to try to shut myself down? Are you sure you can handle it?"
Murdock looked at me and said, "Yeah, sure, go on, let me feel. Maybe it is something that I will feel actually, not being so numb all the time."
I put the plaque on my lap and put my carving pen on top of it. I took Murdock's hands, and then I cracked open my soul. Where the burning pain of 14 ripped true soulmate bond was still present and not eased up at all. I let him feel it, that pain, my anguish in my soul.
It is hard to describe what it feels like when your soul is ripped apart, more or less. After a few minutes, I put my rage back on, my shell to protect that mess that was once been my soul. I let go of Murdock's hands, which were shaking now, and I resumed my carving. He was feeling it alright.
He said in a quiet voice," Now I understand. How could you live with pain like that? I don't blame you, not at all. If you, butterfly, one day have to write me on those plaques, know that this has been the best time of my life. That feeling, it was amazing, it was horrible by god, I felt it. Maybe I can feel a little less."
I just grunted. I was carving now with Hugh's name, same time sending a brief prayer for his soul. It wouldn't be a peaceful trip to see those relatives. Murdock called me a butterfly. He had been there for me so long and I knew unless I would turn him into a vampire hybrid or something, I would lose him one day and I would carve his name as he wanted it. After we got back from Lake Lanier, Magnum called and he needed Murdock.
So I went to see those relatives by myself. Hugh had been missing 13 months and his wife, now a widow, was sad but happy to know his fate. She could move on and make some sort of memorial. We talked for a long time. Hugh had been a GP after he had left the fleas and they had lived in Aruba for years. They had returned to the States just two years ago. Damn, Sarks. They were always searching for old and new fleas, to be tortured and killed too. It was good that they had been long life together, but those 13 months had been too much torture. I wanted to have a few Sarks again soon.
After that long trip, to talk and explain, and offer my condolences, I needed to change of pace first. Alaric informed me that there would be a good busy week ahead of us first. Lots of victims and jobs to do. Time to get busy too. There was no rest for me. This lifestyle kept me busy as hell, but it was again something that I had used to.
Alaric and I worked well together. We did 14 jobs during that week. There were rescue, demolition, and extermination jobs and four liberation jobs, and I always did those myself. Even though Damien was no longer in the picture, Krycheck and Sark were, and they were enough. They were very nasty guys and did a lot of damage to wonderful people and kept us quite busy, too.
I had to let these poor bastards out of their misery. These were people, again, our allies, and then one gig was the shapeshifters. And the only thing I could do was to let them out of their pain. I was a doctor, I'd done a lot of research and won awards, and yet all I could do to these people was break their necks quickly and efficiently, make sure that there was no chance of anyone getting these back to life, take the data, and always blow up the whole building, bury them in rubble, and move on. Kill every Sark. I could just keep my wits about me and bury my feelings in the same way I buried those deep in the ground.
Then back to base, I informed to authorities, marked our guys dead if there were any, and took care of monetary compensation if needed. There were no fleas. Only our allies and authorities would start to go over that pile of rubble a few weeks later. So bodies would be found, not in the best possible shape but enough to be identified and get official info on these humans and shifters, so relatives would have something to bury it would be even a little box of ashes.
Often these kinds of victims would be cremated soon enough after death because of infection and contamination danger, and relatives would get ashes only back, but it was better than burying an empty coffin. At least they would get closure. Maybe there would be some evidence found in rubble so some charges could be raised, but not always.
Sometimes these nasties got scot free and there was no evidence, no justice, nothing unless we got something done. This was one thing that gave me the drive to carry on, the need for justice, revenge more or less. Not noble, but a damn good motivator, too.
I hadn't gotten that pressure off for years; it was making my rages. I already had rages of different colors from white to black, over a hundred wells, my willpower was brutally strong, and I practically had telekinesis. My alpha power was wonderful for messing around and using a little everywhere. I was a very strong creature but my life was no easy peasy living. I knew my responsibility, as they say, with great power comes with great responsibility. I knew that not everyone in the world worked by this, but I did.
And all those hundreds and thousands of tanks of who knows what energy. I was loaded. As I was siphon, and years had gone by without an energy creature to bounty from my tanks, I had so many energies that I was not even sure for myself where to use them. I had enough emotional wells, and they had a lot of different emotions, both good and bad. There were losses and my victories, my friendships and my hatred for my enemies. My compassion for victims, my regrets about not being enough good as a surgeon.
I was thinking of resting for a couple of days and then going to Texas, where I would probably spend a couple of weeks or even a month. Then, if nothing acute came up, I could go to Europe for sniper days or even fight clubs.
Fight clubs had been my on-off hobby over the years. When I had to have time, I went gone a few of them. Quite start when my rage had been most fierce, and I had been most feral, Magnum and Murdock and Wulfe had taken me those German fuck clubs to unload my rage, now in that state of mind, they had not been hard to win, and fast. But they had helped me a lot. Let's just say that I had five men in my life who had seen me at my worst, my absolute worst, and they had pulled me up from there. They were my confidants, my supports, my friends.
Next, I'd be off to Texas for a killing spree, and in the old-fashioned way. This was the easier job and no problems at all. This was something I was good at. Very good. I could use makeup, and my dental substances to give different hair to me and Sark had been so sloppy, so to speak, that he didn't think that I would go after these guys. These were very good to do some predation. There were so many of Sark's helpers and allies, and we were busy anyway, so I thought I'd go out and relieve some pressure.
Now, I needed to be a little sly. I knew I could smell my food, and if I did this alone, I might get some snacks, meaning more blood.
In the pack, Damon went on a wild fucking spree, and Mariella couldn't think of any other way to help this pent-up feeling inside them. So much had happened to Mimi. Her life was just awful compared to theirs and Mariella felt herself such a prissy.
In the dim warmth of the bedroom where they had unloaded all the bad stuff from their souls, Damon rolled off his wife, all sweaty and smelling of sex. He looked at the ceiling and then spoke.
" Darling, do you want a little flashback? See what I used to do?" Damon asked his wife after a couple of days of fucking.
"Oh, darling, what did you do?" Mariella replied. She had barely caught her breath.
Damon's passion had been almost overwhelming. He was a hurricane all over her.
Damon said, " We're going to the Texas castle, and then, honey, you're going to see Mimi on the killing spree."
Mariella was curious. It was good that Damon kept his eye on Mimi he had the guts already do it. She liked to watch and analyze, but wasn't a pretender like Mimi. They went to shower first. It was good to have again something to do, even to see Mimi again. The pack moved into the Texas castle, and everyone was ready. Damon would tell them what the deal was.
Mariela knew that one of Mimi's flank weddings had been here and some room was their wedding chamber. But Damon never showed it to anyone. Every Salvatore should know what room it is, but then again, they worked almost as a hive where number one was the leader, so Mariella was not sure if he had taken information out of their minds.
It had been quite an experience for her too as every salvatore had freaking deep feelings for Mimi and now as they felt this loss and mourn there were quite interesting happenings like intense male action or sudden bursts of salvatore rage, making them feel something. Gym was quite actively used as they had released their aggression from time to time.
They spent a couple of evenings cooking and making desserts, and then Damon said, "OK, honey, here are the clothes. We'll be hiding in the shadows, and Mimi probably won't notice us."
He gave her black clothes, jeans, a leather jacket, and boots. Mariella had never dressed like that and somehow, yet they felt appropriate, too. She saw Damon also taking a holster and gun, silencer and putting them into his belt. Damon's expression was like that Mariella knew not to question him. He was a professional killer now.
I walked towards the first bar and went inside. My victim was quite a juicy one. I had already alleyway checked out, clean-up crew was ready. This was one of the pharmaceutical financiers, a tax criminal, and this is not the one to prosecute. This one was just getting more money and more capital for the Sarks every time he committed a crime. He used all kinds of legal loops to get Sark's out of taxes and protected also their profits, even if they were done by using enzymes.
He had been the one who had gotten partial permission to use enzymes in drug production. Well, it was supposed to be freely donated enzymes, and the donor was supposed to get monetary compensation and all the enzymes should be kept on record, but those records got hacked, supposedly, donors died, from natural causes or disappeared, and most of the enzymes were like that they could not be traced to any of donors.
It was good to be on a prowl and, as usual, a boulevard of broken dreams was playing in my mind. My gig song. This was just perfect. My inner killer was awake as well.
Damon led them down the alley into the shade. Damon pulled her in deep shadow, used his ability to hide her in shadow too. After a while, there were muffled footsteps, and Mariella saw Mimi walking lazily, hips swaying. She wore a short, tight leather skirt, a long leather jacket, long high-heeled boots, and a top so that her waist was bare. Her ribs were showing so clearly, and her belly was almost sunken. She looked anorectic. Her expression was pure predator and as Mimi passed them by, her predator aura brushed against Mariella, making her take a step back. She was on the prowl.
Mariella could see how thin Mimi was, and Damon used an infrared thermometer to show Mimi's temperature, 38 degrees. Mariella shuddered. Damon told her in his mind who was Mimi's victim. All the bad that this layer enabled Sark to get done. They saw by the bar window, how Mimi did it, how she got the victim to go with her.
I went up to the bar and ordered a Manhattan. The man hurriedly came up to pay and looked at me lustfully. The man was older, and his leering eyes looked at my body with eagerness and stared at my tits; the man had a beer belly and an expensive suit, and this one was in terrible shape; his round face glistened with sweat, and I could hear his heart working to maintain that carcass.
This one liked also very thin specimens. I fit in very well with his preferences. The man had had several drinks, and I knew this one liked vampires. He likes to fuck them and let them drink themselves, so I let my fangs come out, and he noticed.
He said, "Oh, you are hungry, aren't you? How about a little trade, sweetheart? You get the meal, and I get a moment to enjoy that body of yours and all its bounty. Plenty of vamps have told me how tasty I am. I eat organically, only the best, so how about it babe, wanna trade?"
I laughed sexily and said, "Sure, I'll finish this; some fantastic alleyways are out there; you must give me a wonderful ride."
He licked his lips, looked at me lustfully, and said, " Yes, everyone has complimented me, honey, and I've got my tubes tied, so no kids."
I could smell his foul breath and see his artificial teeth that had been done in the best dental clinics as his own teeth had been rotten ages ago. He had several times done hair transplants, and they did not take so well always. His head was kinda patchy. I kept my role up.
I finished my drink in peace, and we left for the alley. I pushed the man in front of me deep enough, took my gun, and fired three shots, and it was done. I just texted the cleaning crew and went on my way. More victims to be killed. No rest for the wicked.
Mariella watched the whole thing. She understood how hard it must have been for Damon to watch Mimi's behavior. Despite that, Damon was fighting with himself; he wanted to kill those victims himself. They followed Mimi all night. Victim after victim, Mariella knew Mimi might not want to return to her normal life in the pack after this.
But Damon will try, and so will Mariella. Mimi would have to be brought back. And Mimi had to be protected.
They were in one corner while Mimi was seducing one victim when Damon pulled Mariella in deeper into the shadows.
He took out his gun, put the silencer in that, and said to Mariella in his mind, "Stay put, do not move."
Damon walked away. Mariella watched as he walked near one man who was in the street, looking at his phone, and grabbed him. One muffled shot, and Damon teleported that carcass to Etna. During that night, Damon killed 13 different people from the medical facility who were stalking Mimi.
He found them when he scanned everyone's thoughts vicinity. He was fast, lethal, and efficient. Somehow, when he killed those bastards by shooting, it felt right. Mariella wanted to almost kill them herself, too. Mariella understood how Mimi's lifestyle exposed her to danger and how much Damon still wanted to protect her.
Damon explained to her that shooting was the surest way to kill them. He could not be sure if they had a shield against magic or energies, so a bullet into the brain was the fastest and easiest way, and disposing of those in some volcano was the right thing to do. Damon did not let her kill them, even though she wanted to.
I was on my way to my next victim when I smelled it. Oh my god, demon king, I haven't had this powerful blood raw in years. I could see it. It had no idea who I was. As I was walking up it, Wulfe came from somewhere, whistled low and I could see four men grabbing that demon king.
Wulfe looked at me and said in quite a damn tight voice, "No, you do not do that. Am I making myself clear? No free predation."
I said, "Yep, not doing it." I sighed.
Wulfe said nothing but teleported away. Damn him. Always keeping tabs. My meal.
Mariella felt how Damon sighed, he had holding his breath and he was now anxious and worried, curious and regretful, Their bond was so open and Damon's emotions blasted straight into Mariella. it took time for her to even try to comprehend why he felt like this.
Damon said, "Wulfe, that was Wulfe. He is almost now Mimi's sire. He can order her. I once could, but not anymore, and not sure what it would take. I did not give her enough blood, so she is a loaded gun. She would have gorged herself full of the demon king, blasting her bloodlust open, and it is not a good thing."
Mariella had no words to say. She grabbed his head and kissed him.
They took turns having each Salvatore go after Mimi when she was on a killing spree. Damon was not yet ready to face Mimi, and Mariella had seen when they were in the alley in the shade how Damon's hand had almost touched Mimi. This would take some time. He had been so close, just by mere inches, his fingertips had been from Mimi's hair. But he sighed and pulled his hand away. Not yet. Not just yet.
I did gigs for six months, and after four months, I realized I had shadows, but I didn't express in any way that I saw Damon and Mariella; if they wanted to follow me, then go ahead. Every fucking Salvatore was always there, and I'm glad I didn't roll my eyes. I know I had always had enemies after me. It had been my life for years now, and I had protected the pack this whole time, too.
Wulfe watched me the whole time, not letting me indulge at all. He told me how to drink, what to drink, and how much to drink. I had found several nice specimens, and he had always been there, snatching them off my face, so I did not get any extra.
Salvatores were busy boys, as I had plenty of enemies after me, so they had something to do.
So I let them protect me too. I had no expectations that it would lead anywhere. It might be just a little melancholy moment for them and soon their perfect pack life would take them away again. That's why I did not engage any of them. Pain, when they would have left, would have been too much for me. It was easier this way. I had had my share of painful blasts from the past during this time.
I'd decided that soon I'd take it easy, not do any gigs unless I had to, and just relax and be and live. I'd been pushing for seven years now, so it was time to calm down. When my gigs were over, I sent a goodie basket to the pack and put Magnum deliver in it. Thank the bodyguards. I didn't put my contact details on it, I just put, "Thank you for protecting me, Mimi Springcove. "
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone