章 116: 36. What You Waiting For?
As Mariella stood in the middle of cooking, the sizzle of the pan filled the air. Suddenly, her phone chimed, interrupting her concentration. She glanced over to see a text message notification. Her mind briefly shifted from thoughts of Mimi and Damon to the sound of the message. She had entrusted Damon with handling Mimi, reminding her of her place and ensuring she had her chakras burned in place and a new magic symbol carved in place. These preparations were crucial to eventually draining Mimi's powers and perhaps gaining a boost for themselves.
However, Mariella's mind was still clouded with disappointment. Magnum had rejected her advances, mocking her instead. Then came the revelation from Damon that Mimi and Magnum had been fucking for a week. Fueled by anger, Mariella demanded Damon to take action. She hoped that this intervention would bring Mimi back to her senses. Mimi's abrasive behavior during their recent visit with Wulfe and Magnum had made Mariella feel vulnerable and exposed.
Mimi had even glimpsed at their plans for upcoming holidays in Ireland - Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's. Despite her status as Damon's wife, Mariella believed she had the right to enjoy these festivities and choose who would be involved. Mimi, was not part of her festivities and since Wulfe and Magnum had all chosen Mimi over her, they weren't either, a painful realization for Mariella.
Somehow, the effects of a spell had influenced Mariella in ways she hadn't fully comprehended. Her newfound independence had vanished, replaced by contentment with Damon taking the lead. The once enjoyable aspects of her work no longer held the same importance. It didn't bother her anymore, or at least that's how she felt.
With a sigh, she picked up her phone and read Mimi's text message. Realizing the potential damage she may have caused to Damon, Mariella knew she needed to go and see what she had done. Damage control was necessary, as Damon would undoubtedly be angry with her if she had acted impulsively.
Mariella walked slowly into the portal room, her steps echoing softly on the marble floor. As she paused on the stairs, her gaze wandered over the magnificent decorations and art pieces that adorned the hallway and corridor. This was her sanctuary, her personal haven, and she took pride in choosing every single item, even if it had originally belonged to Mimi. She saw no wrong in claiming what she desired; she was blind to any moral implications.
Approaching the portal, Mariella pressed the button to open a connection to Arizona. It had been ages since she had visited, and even though the memories felt distant, she still remembered the innocence and naivety she possessed back then. Climbing up the stairs, she focused her senses, trying to locate Damon. She recalled how Mimi had moved out of the main bedroom, changing the bed and everything. Mariella wondered, for a brief moment, where that original bed might be now. Perhaps hidden away in Missy's private spaces. Her thoughts carried a hint of sarcasm, fueled by her lingering irritation towards Mimi, though she couldn't quite pinpoint why.
Finally, Mariella found the room she sought and opened the door. A sharp breath escaped her lips as she took in the scene before her. Damon lay on his back, completely naked, his cock only partially erect. Strong, spiked shackles bound him, reflecting the dim light of the room. A gleaming long dagger was embedded in his heart, its movement synchronized with Damon's own heartbeat. A red bite mark adorned his neck, right on his pheromone glands, and the scent of strawberry mingled with his natural musk. It was evident that his alpha female had claimed him.
Damon's body was covered in bite marks, and the intoxicating aroma of strawberry hung in the air. Mariella rushed towards him, her teeth sinking into one of the marks, attempting to remove the scent, but to no avail. She bit harder, using her white power, but it stubbornly refused to work.
In a husky voice, Damon pleaded, "Don't. You can't take them off, she made sure. Come on, help me break free."
Summoning her energies, Mariella focused on her spell-casting abilities, determined to release him from the shackles. Damon reached out and yanked the dagger from his heart, his expression a rare mix of pain and determination. Before Mariella could even touch the dagger, Damon teleported it away, leaving her with a sense of curiosity and unanswered questions.
Damon slowly rose from the bed, the creaking of the mattress echoing in the quiet room. He dressed himself in silence, his contemplative expression masking any trace of anger. Mariella, once again, found herself confused by his unexpected calmness.
She had expected his fury, but he remained composed, his voice steady as he spoke. "Come on, let's go back."
Irritation flickered in Mariella's eyes as he referred to going back without specifying "home." It made her question if Ireland truly held any significance for him.
Mariella's voice grew firm and demanding as she asserted, "Now, Mimi needs to face some form of punishment, and you need to be firm with her. She's strong, but you can handle it."
Before she could say anything else, Damon's hand struck her face, a sharp sting spreading across her cheek.
He snarled, "This is Mimi's reaction to what you made me do. I didn't handle it as I should have. Instead, I made a mess because I stupidly let you control everything. But that ends now."
Mariella barely had time to react when Damon abruptly snapped her neck.
She awoke, feeling disoriented and nauseous, as if she had been drugged. The throbbing pain in her head intensified, and her mouth felt dry and packed. Her neck throbbed with a sharp soreness. As she attempted to lift her hand, she realized she was trapped in spiked shackles, unable to break free. Damon had drained her multiple times, and each time had been brutal. She also felt the withdrawal effects of her pheromone addiction, her body craving the substances that were now absent. The sedative organ within her continued to feed drugs into her system, intensifying her disorientation.
A sarcastic yet dangerous voice emerged from the shadows surrounding her cage, tauntingly asking, "Morning, darlin'. Feeling fresh?"
Mariella strained to peer into the darkness, knowing that pleading for mercy would be futile. She understood she had to learn her lesson, but it took time for her to comprehend the reason behind this cruel and prolonged ordeal.
Emerging from the depths of the surrounding shadows, Damon stepped forward, his piercing, cold eyes and stern expression visible to Mariella.
With a cruel tone, he spoke, "Let's begin your little game of manipulation, granting you one more Christmas, one more Thanksgiving without Mimi. I had her once, back when we worked together, but not anymore. Thanks to your conniving manipulation, I've lost her once again. Your manipulation of Number Four, convincing him to call you 'baby,' ruined everything. Our little gathering, just as they were visiting. Tell me, darling, that you didn't foresee their arrival. Please, convince me of your innocence. It was you who drove Mimi straight into Magnum's arms, not me. You shattered us once more. And let me assure you, I have a few lessons reserved for you. Let's see what shape you'll be in come Thanksgiving, and how many of us will still worship you."
Silence enveloped Mariella as she struggled to find an explanation for her behavior. Damon was right. She had indeed anticipated their arrival. She had seen a future where she could have Magnum to herself while sending Wulfe on missions. Damon did not wait for her answer, but walked away. The door shut down with a menacing thud.
Lost in her thoughts, Mariella realized she was not alone. Faint rustling and the sound of someone's breathing accompanied her.
Admitting her faults, she uttered, "I'm an idiot, a selfish bitch who never thinks."
A voice responded, "I'm a nasty, jealous shithead who hurt Mimi as much as I could by calling you 'baby' for her to hear. We had a moment in that damn hotel room, and then I had to go and do this again. When will I fucking learn?"
Mariella took in the scent in the air, recognizing it as Number Four's.
He continued, "Yep, I'm in this cage too, all because of that 'baby' stunt. One wasn't affected by it, so he taught me a lesson. I had no idea that one could drain so painfully. He cast a spell that stopped my blood from forming, causing my heart to stop."
Mariella shared her own pain, "I'm experiencing withdrawal and sedation, and he drained me, too. My neck is ripped open, so I'm learning my lesson here."
Number Four fell into silence, deep in thought. He chastised himself, questioning why he had done what he did. He hadn't even wanted to call Mariella 'baby,' but he knew it would hit Mimi hard. The desperation threatened to consume him, leaving him almost drowning in regret.
Number one kept Mariella in a dark, cramped cage for three agonizing days. There was no mercy in his actions. Meanwhile, number four suffered even longer, confined to a cage for a whole week. Damon, feeling remorseful, tried to distract himself by focusing on cooking for Mimi. The scent of ready-made meals filled the air as he placed them on her shelf, knowing she would find them wherever she was. Despite his apologies, Damon couldn't help but feel that things had spiraled out of control, reaching a point of no return, at least for now. He couldn't think about what would happen next.
After releasing Mariella from her cage, Damon continued to cook, this time focusing on preparing Thanksgiving food. They would have their celebrations, but guilt still weighed heavily on his heart. Perhaps afterward, they could find a way to fix the mess they were in. Damon couldn't understand why he hadn't felt anything when Mimi was with Magnum for a week. There was an emptiness inside him, a residual effect from the damn spell that had messed him up. He needed answers, and he wanted to know if it could be fixed.
Damon reached out to Wulfe, sending him a message and asking for his help. He was willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant begging. He sensed that something was off, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Hours later, Wulfe arrived, his smug expression not escaping Damon's notice. He knew it had something to do with Mimi, and with time, he hoped to uncover the truth.
Expressing his gratitude, Damon said to Wulfe, "Thank you for coming. I would be grateful if you could shed some light on this. My mind feels tangled, my emotions are absent. I stabbed and beat Mimi for weeks, but I felt nothing. No anger, no jealousy. Mariella has been all over the place, and number four ruined things with Mimi. I can't help but think that the damn spell has messed us up more than I realized."
Wulfe looked at him, a slightly enigmatic smile playing on his lips, his words carrying a hint of wisdom.
Mariella joined them, admitting her own turmoil, confessing, "I'm a mess, too. Jealous as hell, I orchestrated the whole thing. I caught a glimpse of the future and set up our gathering to hurt Mimi, but I have no idea why."
Wulfe spoke, his voice holding a firmness, "Come, walk with me. It's time for a little lesson for the both of you."
They walked outside, the crisp autumn air nipping at their cheeks. Or perhaps it was the wintery air, biting and sharp.
Wulfe spoke, his breath visible in the cold, "Tell me, Damon, can I become a surgeon without learning anything about cells or cellular facts? Can I be a surgeon if I only know how to patch up a broken liver or mend a broken heart? Do I really need all that detailed information about biochemistry and physiology? Isn't it just about sewing tissues back together and ensuring the person can breathe at the end?"
Damon scowled, his brows furrowing in thought, and replied, "No, surgery is not a sewing club. You have to know what the tissue can withstand, its meaning, what can be taken out, and how much. You need to understand the repercussions of your actions. You can't simply sew up a liver and hope for the best. You have to make sure the liver can function before you can mend it."
Wulfe fell silent for a moment before speaking again, "But surely, I don't have to learn all of the chemistry to be a doctor. I just have to recognize what's wrong and how to fix it. Is it not that simple?"
Damon shook his head, his face serious, and said, "Nope, you need to have a solid foundation in order to make the right decisions. Otherwise, the world would be filled with incompetent surgeons. It's not an easy feat, and you have to know your chemistry so you can anticipate certain reactions, understand lab values, and differentiate what is important from what is not. Why are you so stubborn about this?"
Wulfe smiled faintly as he replied, "You two, you're those kinds of surgeons. Magically speaking, you can wield your magic with skill, but when you lack the basics, you don't understand the outcome. You both have missed your fundamentals, and this is the result. Sure, you can use magic without the basics, but then this happens. You see, every wizard, every witch, has a mentor, someone to teach them the physics of magic, so to speak. You two have been so arrogant that you never asked. You never even acknowledged your own hubris and ignorance."
Damon fell silent, contemplating Wulfe's words, before finally speaking, "Can you teach us then, these basics? But first, what the hell is wrong with us?"
Wulfe nodded, his voice calm as he explained, "You don't understand spells very well. A spell is energy and will, but that energy used in a spell must come from somewhere. It can be from your own reserves or harnessed like solar energy. However, when you use beings like Unicorns as power batteries, things go out of whack and fast. You overload your spell, and it blows up."
Wulfe sat in silence, his brow furrowing as he prepared to explain his idea.
"Using Mimi as a battery would be like trying to power a wall clock with nuclear energy," he began. "There's just too much raw power involved. You see, Freya's spell was layered, with each layer unraveling and going haywire. Instead of imprinting new identities onto you, the spell sought out those qualities from whoever was bound within it, resulting in a swapping of qualities."
Damon struggled to comprehend the complexity of it all. He gazed off into the distance, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. It was frustrating to realize his lack of understanding.
Wulfe continued, "You see, when creating an alternate reality spell, you must establish very specific parameters. That's why they used the facility - it provided a limited space, making it easier to manage. However, these kinds of spells are not easy to create. The more elements you incorporate, the more energy is required, but not too much. In this case, the spell was meant to create a new imprint of you, but when Mimi's power overloaded it, the spell tore apart and swapped fragments of your identity. Since Mimi was the power source, the spell took what it needed from her, leaving her hollow, and empty. My guess is that they did not intend to make Mimi a hollow shell, but more like a succubus, willing to fuck with anyone."
Mariella chimed in, trying to make sense of it all. "So, we all gained something from Mimi, but in the process, we lost pieces of ourselves. Is that why we're all a mess?"
Wulfe nodded in agreement. "You didn't lose those pieces, they were just misplaced. The spell targeted your emotions, as it had a backdoor of true love. Now, your emotional wells are empty, and your emotions are scattered throughout your mind. They may even be embedded in your memories."
Mariella's voice echoed in the air, "So, how do we find them?"
Wulfe gazed at her intently and replied, "We can make a potion, cast a spell, or tap into your emotions. Let me show you."
Suddenly, Mariella felt Wulfe's presence in her mind. Instead of a grand cathedral, her mind resembled a cozy house. She felt a twinge of disappointment, realizing that she was not his unicorn like Mimi, a truly unique creature.
Wulfe confidently walked through the rooms of her mind, and Mariella couldn't help but notice the layer of dust that covered the surfaces and accumulated in corners. Curiosity drove her to reach for a dust ball, and as her fingers brushed against it, a surge of affection for the number seven bloomed in her heart. The dust ball vanished, taking with it one of her hidden feelings. She understood now that the dust represented her emotions.
Determined, she exclaimed, "I get it now! I can see them, so I can call them. I need to clean my mind."
Wulfe smiled, engrossed in a book he had taken from the bookcase. Mariella approached him, realizing that the book contained her past, written as pages bound together.
Annoyed at the invasion of her privacy, she swiftly snatched the book from his grasp and said, "Thank you, but you can't read my 'what if's' and 'why's'."
Wulfe smiled in response, and in an instant, they were back outside.
He addressed them, "Now that you know what to do, I can teach you. Prepare yourselves, as it won't be easy, fast, or enjoyable, especially in the beginning. You may even get frustrated with me more than once, but I will teach you."
Damon interjected, "But the elders already tested me. I underwent the wizard's tests."
Wulfe scoffed and replied, "Those tests are like measuring voltage in a battery to ensure it works. What I will do is teach you how to build that battery. The tests you've taken are merely a joke, or they only measure your ability to control your power and prevent accidental overloads or spells gone awry due to lack of control."
Damon frowned, and Wulfe concluded, "I'll be back in a few days for your first lesson. Until then, have fun."
And just like that, he vanished.
Mariella expressed her mixed emotions, "I'm excited and scared at the same time. I want to learn, but I can't shake the feeling that we will face hardship and humiliation."
Damon comfortingly placed his arm around her, guiding her back inside, and replied, "It may get worse before it gets better, but we'll get through it together. Come on, let's go cook and indulge in a guilt-ridden Thanksgiving. Maybe we should call it 'guilty giving'."
His voice dripped with bitterness and self-loathing as they made their way back inside.
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