章 42: 2. Hallelujah.
After Giselle teleported away, Mariella fell into a heavy silence. She desperately tried to conjure up a reason, any reason, other than the fact that those infants held control over them. Searching for a logical explanation, she sensed deep down that Giselle had spoken the truth. It had to be because of Mimi; she must have divulged something to Giselle.
Anger surged within Mariella towards Mimi, and Damon seized upon this emotion, sensing its external source - the babies. They were manipulating everyone's emotions, trying to make them despise Mimi for revealing their powers to Giselle.
Calmly, Damon proposed, "Darlin', let's bind these children so we can assist Mimi."
Mariella glanced at him, struggling to suppress her growing animosity towards Mimi. Suddenly, she felt Damon's will infiltrate her mind, forcefully pushing away the hatred. The babies began to wail in frustration as Damon severed their influence over Mariella; they yearned to regain control.
Mariella took notice and then recalled why the babies remained unbound.
She had observed their powers too, but... she confessed, "I was too lazy. I noticed their abilities when I went to the potion lab to fetch the binder. To my dismay, there was none left; you had given the rest to Mimi. I could have used it to expedite the multiplication magic and produce more binders faster, but I knew I had to brew a new batch. However, I was too lazy to start immediately. I was just like Mimi, thinking I had time."
Her voice carried a mix of shame and anger towards herself.
Damon replied, "Alright, we need to start brewing a large batch right away. We don't have time to waste, do we? My babies are suffering, and now I can feel their distress, as well as Mimi's desperation and her need for me. But first, I must assist you in making the binder, since it requires my blood and my powers. So, let's get to it!"
He stood up, and Mariella followed suit, and together they made their way to the potion lab. The lab was located in a dimly lit cellar, and as they descended the steep stairs, Mariella couldn't help but shiver from the coolness of the space. Damon, however, offered no comfort. He didn't hold her or touch her. Mariella could sense his worry about their babies and his frustration with the entire situation.
They planned to return to Mimi once the babies' powers were bound, hoping to find a solution. It was a new and unfamiliar experience for them. Cub sickness was rare, and the last time it happened, it was the first litter that Mimi and Damon had biologically, influenced by Freya, and Damien, Sark. It had been a desperate situation, but they saved everyone.
As they walked through the dim corridor, they finally reached a heavy door. It was black, with golden, decorative 'S' embedded into it. This was their magic potion lab.
They entered, and Mariella began gathering the necessary ingredients and dishes. Soon, the smell of herbs and plants filled the air as she measured the ingredients into a huge vat. The mixture would be several liters at first and then it would condense at the end.
Damon started a fire in the small fireplace, which was crucial for one step of the potion brewing. He felt frustrated, knowing that it would take 30 hours for the potion to be ready, and then a few more hours for it to take effect. He would have to spend all those hours here, unable to be with Mimi and provide her with the help she needed.
Damon couldn't bear to hear Mimi's voice or her pleas. He kept his mind closed off from her thoughts, clasping the bonds of the whole pack. He knew he wasn't the only one suffering. These babies were pack babies, and everyone cared for them. Before this happened, he had gotten to know them and now he longed to be with his boys and girls, to assure them that Daddy was here and would help.
Damon realized his teeth might hold the key to helping the sick babies. He needed to load up on as many different kinds of food as possible to gather the materials for dental substances.
He could smell the herbs and flowers as Mariella began her incantations and started making the potion. Damon stood next to her, chanting along, and he pierced his finger with his fangs, allowing drops of his blood to fall into the mixture.
With each drop, the color and smell of the potion changed. It began to thicken, and Mariella had to exert more power to maintain the right pace and direction of the incantation. Words murmured in the ancient language. Too old for anyone to remember except this language was used in spells, filled the air and magic was an almost tangible presence in the potion lab.
This task required patience and precision. As they worked, the mixture slowly transformed into a thick, black substance resembling tar. Mariella's brow glistened with sweat, a testament to the physical effort required for this particular potion. They were working with four liters of the mixture, knowing that most of it would evaporate, eventually. But this initial stage demanded strength, and since Damon had to give his blood, it fell upon Mariella to handle the mixing. And she was a control freak when it came to potion brewing. This was her expertise.
After the necessary 95 minutes had passed, it would be Damon's turn to take over while Mariella offered her blood. The mixture would become runny, requiring Damon to maintain a steady pace.
Mariella was known for her advice-giving tendencies, constantly instructing him on how to proceed. It was something that grated on him, as he disliked being told what to do, especially when it came to making potions alongside Mariella.
They spent time in the potion lab, Mariella organizing and preparing additional bases. She preferred having a variety of bases ready, and other pack members had also contributed their own creations. Damon did not make potions, not many of them. But she had gotten Adam and Charles to do potions and Mimosa and Shadow too.
But she was the best of them. Her feline friend had taught her a long time ago, her clouded leopard, Di, who had been a witch, had gotten loose as their evolution progressed, so she had mentored Mariella and she had been excellent at this.
Adam would make lust potions or sex potions, while Charles had a knack for love potions. Damon, on the other hand, preferred spells and incantations to potions, finding them easier to learn and use. Mimosa's potions were healing, and the same was with Shadow's, but she used a lot of herbs and plants and she could also help plants to grow. But Damon. His potion-making was messy, clumsy, and not always successful.
He was lazy, too lazy to learn to brew and mix because it was easier to use his will, his magic, and learn spells and incantations. He relied on whatever potions Mariella made, rarely attempting to brew his own unless absolutely necessary.
After 95 minutes, it was time to brew the potion more when it started to smell like lemon. Now, it was Damon's turn to take charge of the mixing, while Mariella prepared to add her blood. She had tried to find a way to do both tasks simultaneously, but the risk of making a mistake and ruining the potion was too great.
Damon stood up, clutching the ladle in his hand.
Mariella reminded him, "Remember, stir anticlockwise, maintaining a pace of one revolution every two seconds. Keep it steady and ensure the ladle touches the bottom of the bowl at all times."
Damon couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Darlin', I've done this a few times," he replied, his confidence evident.
Mariella's voice cut through the air like a sharp whip, snapping at her lazy husband, the arrogant bastard called Damon. "Now is not the time for makeovers, Damon. I want this to be perfect for the first time. No need for Mimosa to come here and mix, right?"
Damon sighed, acknowledging the truth of her words. In the past, he had been sloppy, and not everything had worked out as planned, requiring the help of Mimosa.
He tried to appease his wife, saying, "Settle down, darlin'. I got this."
He focused intently on the task at hand, his hands steady as Mariella sprinkled dried vervain and meadow flower mix. The drops of her blood slowly fell into the bowl, but the liquid did not thicken yet.
They continued their incantation, murmuring in unison, as the drops of blood kept falling. Gradually, the mixture transformed into the desired shade of purple. Mariella guided Damon in her mind, instructing him to maintain a steady pace and keep the ladle at the bottom. Despite his inner impatience, Damon remained patient, following her instructions.
As the last drop of blood was added, Damon stopped mixing, sighing in relief. Mariella took the ladle from him, stirring it a few times to ensure its proper consistency before placing it on the windowsill to brew for 33 minutes.
The room, with its black stone table and dark stone walls, emitted a slightly oppressive atmosphere. Yet, the large windows allowed daylight to stream in, while powerful lamps on the ceiling prevented the space from becoming too dim. Damon watched Mariella, who continued to busy herself in the lab, always adding something to the potion or mixing another concoction.
It was time to put the base into the roaring fireplace, where the flames danced and crackled. As Mariella lifted the heavy bowl, she could feel the strain on her muscles. With careful precision, she poured the mixture into the cast iron bowl that hung from a rod above the fire. The heat radiated from the flames, creating a warm ambiance in the room.
It was time to collect their powers. This was difficult for Mariella as this was done by the spell, and incantation, but this was more of Damon's expertise, so he was faster at this and he would get this done easier than her, but she could do it.
Beside her, Damon held two small bottles in his hands. The glass glimmered in the flickering light of the fire. Mariella joined him, taking one bottle and uncorking it with a soft pop. They both focused their attention, their voices blending in a harmonious chant. Their spells, unique to each of them, began to take shape, swirling with energy.
Time seemed to slow as they worked, their determination clear in their furrowed brows and sweat-drenched foreheads. Finally, black, golden, and violet strings oozed from Damon's fingertips, filling the air with a tangible sense of magic. The aroma of the cooking base mingled with their powers, creating a heady scent that filled the room.
Mariella's powers, a delicate combination of peach and violet with a hint of darkness, emerged in wisps and tendrils. She was slower than Damon, but she persisted until she had extracted every bit of her power.
Damon couldn't help but wonder, just for fun, if he could make Mimi manifest her powers and what they would look like. As the pack leader, he had the authority to do so, even if she wouldn't appreciate it. He would have a proper incantation for it and he would make her do it.
Once Mariella had filled her bottle, she went to check on the base, knowing it still needed more time. Damon, determined to take care of her, led her out of the potion lab and teleported them into the kitchen. The scent of food greeted them, and he guided her to a table, ensuring she had a proper meal. He knew how obsessed she could get with her potions, just as Mimi was with her projects. Both women often forgot to eat, but he was there to remind them.
After making sure Mariella had eaten, Damon informed Charles to use his protector radar to ensure her blood was free from any imperfections. Then, they went to tend to their babies, their precious little ones who brought joy to their lives.
As the hours passed, they returned to the potion lab. Mariella tried to reassure Damon that he wasn't needed, but he insisted on staying, ready to whisk her away and prevent her from tinkering with other potions while this one brewed.
The base, thick and viscous, was ready to receive their powers. Mariella carefully lifted it onto the table, the weight of it clear in her muscles. She poured the concoction into yet another bowl, the sound of it trickling echoing in the room. Now, it needed to cool, wisps of steam rising from its surface, lest it risked exploding. With a steady hand, she mixed the thick goo, feeling the warmth slowly dissipate until it reached a lukewarm state.
First, Mariella added her powers, ensuring the base could absorb them fully. The ingredients seamlessly blended together, like a delicate dance. Then she turned her attention to the bottle where Damon's power swirled, the aroma wafting towards her.
The scent was intoxicating, divine, stirring a deep desire within her. Suppressing her arousal, she poured the mixture into the bowl, watching as it swirled and merged with the base. Her stirring became rhythmic, a calm pace, allowing Damon's powers to be incorporated harmoniously.
It took nearly an hour of careful mixing, changing directions multiple times, and counting each stroke, until the mixture was ready. Mariella knew the importance of precision. Now, it needed to sit for 24 hours, allowing the concoction to settle and meld. Only then could they add their blood to activate it, binding their powers together. It was a little over a day until they could go and aid Mimi.
Mariella poured the base into a waiting bottle, its contents now primed and ready. Then she led Damon into the bedroom for a day of respite. He needed a moment to release the pain and helplessness that consumed him. Passion and raw sex would be their solace, a way for Damon to find release and regain clarity.
If he didn't unload even a fraction of his burden, he wouldn't be able to function when faced with his sick children. Mariella understood that the emotions of a teeth vampire, like Damon, could affect the strength of their dental substance. His upset state would not bode well for the sick infants. Moreover, Mariella herself needed to find release, to unburden herself alongside Damon. Only time would reveal how much they could aid Mimi and what they could do.
Giselle had mentioned that the babies would heal in time, but witnessing their illness would be heart-wrenching. Mariella steeled herself for the sight of seven sick infants, knowing that they would need all the help they could get.
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