Bab 60: 20. Black or White.
Romania. Somehow it gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but also bitterness and anger. I'd been to many a European gig in Romania. I have memories from there, and since I was still so fucking cranky and disappointed and angry with myself, it was good enough. I told the pilot I wanted to go to Romania.
I had now truly learned my lesson and well too, I would not go into that trap again, not in a million years. I was a fool, trusting that he actually meant what he said, but it had been just his alpha side trying to keep me breeding like some sort of machine.
I paid my dues. The transaction agent would meet me in the yard to give me the keys, and I would sign the contract. I was still so freaking disappointed in myself, and something inside me shifted. it was the permanent shift. The rest of the trip went well. The castle would be partially furnished, so I would have my hands full deciding what would stay and what would go. The plane landed. I got out, and the pilot backed my car out. The pilot was one of my trusted fleas, and I also thought I would unload my energy into the fleas again.
This was my jet, and I would not give it to fucking Salvatore. I was not sure when I would go even back to pack. I was not interested in going back, not at all.
Then I set the GPS and went for a drive. The castle was a three-hour drive away. It was really remote and private. All the features I appreciated. I looked in the rearview mirror at my neck, and the mark was almost gone. I was no longer taken, alpha female. He had truly dissed me. That wouldn't be on my neck much longer. I pulled into the driveway and drove through the well-manicured lawns to a large door. The castle was gorgeous. It was like a Disney castle and I planned to live here just by myself for a year.
Another car was already in the driveway, and a woman got out as I drove up. I got out of the car, grabbed my bag, and walked over to the woman. She was tall, blonde, and thin, her face was plain, angular but her make-up was skillful. She was about 50 years old and lines around her eyes told me that she smiles a lot.
"Hello, Mimi Springcove," I introduced myself.
I had taken this surname before I married and sometimes in the hospital. I had dug out my old but valid identity papers on the plane. I was in no mood to be Salvatore.
I also showed my Mimi Salvatore papers. She looked them through too. I had gotten my lawyer to annul the custody agreement so Damon would not be involved here.
"I am in the middle of a divorce. I no longer keep my husband's surname, but it still shows up in my money transfers."I explained.
The dealer, or Cynthia Somerson as she introduced herself, nodded curtly. She dug a tablet out of her pocket and flicked it around for a while.
"Sign here," she pointed and handed me a touch pen.
I took the tablet, and I was ready to write my name. It was sunny, so I had to squint in order to see the right place where to sign. The woman was standing next to me and my arm suddenly hurt. I looked in surprise as the woman pulled out the syringe, which was now empty. She flicked the syringe to the ground, not even realizing what she had done.
" What on earth? You just jabbed me with something." I said. I had gotten my signature in the right place.
Cynthia said nothing, just took the tablet, and nodded. " This was it. Enjoy your house."
She handed me the keys and walked to her car. She did not apologize or comment on anything. I thought for a while was some sort of Salvatore's trick.
It was Salvatore, but not the one that I suspected. A figure emerged from beside the car and took her by the shoulders. " You weren't here. The deed was confirmed electronically, and the courier delivered the keys. Now you are thirsty, and you drink this all the time when you go driving."A voice said chillingly.
This was a vampire. I couldn't see who it was, but the figure handed the woman a large bottle of booze, which she drank greedily, then got into her car, drank again, and went off driving. That had been strong stuff so that poor woman would be soon drunk as a skunk, and possibly end up in jail or dead if she drove out of the road. Or end up on the wrong side of the road.
The man walked towards me. I started seeing double vision. Whatever the woman had hit me with was fucking strong and had an alarmingly fast effect. It had not been just a few minutes after she hit me with that damn syringe. The man was Damien. I was screwed, more or less. How the hell had he gotten himself into a vampire? Or how did he just compel that woman?
" Hello, Baby, nice new house. Glad to see I know you so well. You jumped right into the trap. All I had to do was find the suitable castle and put an ad on your favorite site and you just could not resist it." He said casually as he approached me.
Damien grabbed me as I staggered. " Whoops, starting to feel a little legless? that was potent stuff and a big dose, as you need. I know these things, baby. Don't worry. I'll carry you over the threshold. "
He picked me up in his arms and carried me inside. My body was paralyzed by the seconds, my mind was shutting down and I was as helpless as I could be. The last thing I noticed was the sound of the door closing behind me.
"Morning, Baby, time to wake up." Damien's voice drifted into my drugged-up state, forcing me to open my eyes and try to escape, to see where I was.
I opened my eyes to find myself tied to a metal table. spiked restraints and strong ones. The drug was still on, or then he had given me some more. I was naked. This was as far I could see some sort of big room, and a steel table had been brought here, so he had set this up beforehand.
I guess I would not get to have here any fancy dinner parties with my friends in fleas because this was turning my beautiful castle into almost a shed. I was glad that there were no machines. He had no telepathy or bond between us, to gauge my reactions.
"Let's get started," Damien said. "I like to do this so that you awake. I mean, I could have done this already, but seeing your expressions brings so much joy to me."
He was on my right side, and I felt him start to feel my side. He found my liver, jabbed a syringe into it, and pressed the plunger. A fiery pain exploded in my side, platinum. He took the next syringe, again found another spot on my liver, and pressed the platinum. He shoved a total of six syringes of platinum so that my whole liver was full.
He palpated with satisfaction and confirmed with ultrasound. Seeing my poor liver poisoned with pure platinum.
"See, baby, I've learned one thing now since I've been on my own. Teamwork. or value of a good employer. Of course, I have done quite a bit of solo work as you have noticed, but I have also worked with my bosses. "
He was quiet for a moment and rubbed my liver. He pressed harder, making me moan from the pain.
"I heard Damon did a fucking bad shed session on you and killed you in three weeks. Impressive. My brother has more potential than I give him credit for. But of course, that ruined the medical experiment that I had prepared for years. I am less happy with that. You still might have some shells left in you. No way he had gotten all of them out of you, but I have no way of knowing if they are active. Most likely they are the strongest ones and able to withstand whatever reaction he made your body do in that session. I am not sure if I want to find out what there is left. It would require so many tissue samples but then again, we will have time, that I can promise you. "
I said nothing. How the hell did he know that?
"Look, in a day or two, I'll call our friend, my boss Mr. Sark. By then, platinum will have worked its wonders, and he'll have a good reason to be here. I've got a plan, you see. I won't tell you just yet. I'll tell you as I go along. Well, you've got cubs, haven't you? And several litters. That's great. That's great. That's good for us. you will have so many new experiences and your relationship with Damon, well there is not gonna be one..."
I thought, "You're not gonna get my cubs. They're safe in the magic house."
"Can't you get in touch with anybody? Isn't your rage rising? See, I shot a little implant in your brain, a long-lasting one. If this plan goes through, no one will care about you and certainly won't want anything to do with you."
Damien was obviously getting up to speed. He was starting to like his own voice oh, so much, "I've got a couple of witches and wizards as mates. They have some insight into the past. They gave me this lovely shed session. I have to say, though, that jelly wrapper in your stomach was amazing. Very inspiring, but I don't want to sedate you now. At least not yet. You're not getting off that table. Now, I'm preparing you for what's to come."
He took a thick needle and felt my lower abdomen. He pushed the needle deep into my pelvis, close to my womb. He pulled the needle out, inserted the cannula with ultrasound, and waited for it to grow into my skin. Then he picked up one of the tanks and inserted it into the cannula, and a clear jelly began to flow around my uterus.
"I'm going to destroy you and Damon, and it won't take long. You are history, finito, kaput. And nothing is going to help. You will be alone, and even Saint Charles or Adam will have nothing to do with you. "
Now, there was clearly anger in Damien's voice. " That's hormone jelly. Let's start re-tuning your cycle. You are now fertile and capable of breeding, so let's get it on. "
I thought it wasn't going to be that easy. First, you're supposed to keep the 12-week heat on and then possibly get fucked, I would need to have a breeding womb and it had been removed and then eight weeks of pregnancy, or four weeks, I was not sure how much pregnancy would depend on the alpha male. Would he be able to tune it up or down? I was amused. Damien was about to experience the disappointment of his life, as he knew nothing about shape-shifter lust or reproduction. Just let him push his hormones. It would take hormones in Damon for things to even get that far. Because he was an alpha male with the right stuff to make breeding season start.
Finally, the tank had drained inside me. I could feel the jelly coating the bottom of my stomach. It was surprisingly heavy and somehow sticky. Damien came once again to rub my liver so that the lights flickered behind my eyes as the pain exploded more on me again. I was trying to rip my wrists out of these damn shackles but they had a strong mechanism that did not give in at all. He pressed, patted, stretched, and really dug his fingers under my ribs. He cannulated my central line and put several different bags to drip, usually on full. He catheterized me.
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get my rage up. Now, I couldn't get it out right away. I'd have to wait for the right moment. He groped me all over and felt me chuckling now and then. He went back to my liver; he felt my stomach, and I tensed my stomach muscles. Not so easy.
Even though the pregnancies had taken their toll while caring for the cubs, I was already getting myself in shape, and once the cubs were out, I started gym workouts. My muscles were in good shape.
Damien sighed. " Why do you have to make everything so difficult?"
His voice was a little impatient and almost mocking. He was talking to me like I was an unruly child.
He went off somewhere again; I heard a zipper opening, and I tried to squirm, get my powers going, but not even my will work out. No teleportation, no, nothing. He rummaged in his time and came back with a glass bottle and a syringe.
He pulled the medicine into the syringe and began to systematically go through my abdominal muscles, injecting them with a muscle relaxant. Big doses too, so soon my abdomen was soft as dough.
"Well, that's better. You see now, I always beat you." He remarked after he had gotten all of my muscles out of the whack.
He felt my lower abdomen and reattached the cannula to the new tank. I glanced sideways at the clock. Six hours had passed. Now, he was rubbing my lower abdomen all the time as the jelly poured in. I could feel how sticky it was, and the pressure on Damien was now sinking it very deep. When the tank was empty, he removed it. I hated that damn rubbing and massaging. I would not go to any masseuse voluntarily because he had massaged me over the years so many times and was all wrong.
He changed the drips again. He hadn't given me any sedative, at least not yet. Every six hours, the same thing repeated itself. He came to rub a tank of jelly into the depths of my stomach. I tried to free myself, but an implant in my brain kept me from coming up with a decent plan. It somehow got my initiative out of whack and I could not concentrate long enough because of the pain in my liver so damn bad.
After three days had passed, I began to feel tired. If he wasn't rubbing my fucking stomach, he was on my liver. My liver was now noticeably more swollen, and he could manipulate and massage it even harder. The pain was immense. Now the pain took me in such a nasty way that it took time for me to get to my senses after he had tortured my liver.
I always had a moment to recover when it was stomach-churning time again. My stomach was now bloated with all that jelly and clearly sore. Damien's grips were more determined and harder, and time after time, he dipped into the jelly, rubbing that sticky gel everywhere. I hated that damn jelly inside me; I hated this damn platinum in my liver and I hated Damien, with all I got. I swore that sometimes I would be the one who would end him. Not anyone else.
Then he came up beside me and picked up his phone.
"Mr Sark, boss, I have a business proposition here. I have a young lady at the table you are looking for. I managed to capture her. She would have had 72 hours of platinum in her liver right now. I have manipulated her liver quite vigorously, too. There would probably be enzymes here."
Damien listened for a moment. " Excellent, boss, let me tell you a proposition.."
Damien walked briskly out; I couldn't hear what they were talking about. After a while, he came back. I hated that he worked for Sark. That damn shitbag was one of my best targets, and I liked to make his life a living hell.
He smiled at me, coldly, looking at me like a piece of meat. "Mr. Sark is with me. He liked my suggestion very much. Boss is a good man. He's just collecting some supplies, and he'll be here tomorrow."
Having said that, it was my poor liver's turn again. "Fucked and in deep shit," I thought gloomily as the racking fiery pain began to recede after three hours. But only in a very minor way. The pain did not stop at all at any point.
The rumbling and cold jelly poured out once more, and his hands began to knead my stomach. Damien made sure the muscle relaxant was on all the time. He had pre-loaded syringes on the side table. He used them without a care in the world. My poor stomach was defenseless.
I had no idea how to get out of this fucking mess. What to do and what was Damien's brilliant plan? Somehow, I knew that I did not want to know about it. Only time would tell me where this would lead. Nothing good. That I knew.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone