Capítulo 237: 36. Itkisitkö Onnesta? (Would you cry from happiness.)
I went to the university and enrolled in the program. My studies would start in a month and last for six months, after which there would be six months of continuous monitoring, and then I would see what I would become. I paid for the entire program upfront.
It wasn't cheap by any human standards, and whoever the people in the office were, they looked at me, a young-looking blonde girl, paying about half a million for that. My hair was in ponytails on both sides of my head. I hadn't bothered to put on make-up, so I looked young.
My neat jacket and pencil skirt added to the whole thing. I wasn't dressed in a fashion-conscious way, but this was an Oscar De La Renta jacket that I had gotten when I was doing flea work and sometimes had to dress formally. You couldn't always seduce.
The university was an extensive building, and I watched people walk around with frowns on their faces, wondering about the next class or what they had just learned. I found the pretender side of me studying how to be a university student.
The role seemed to grow inside of me, sort of going into the role library that I had formed in my mind. I strolled to my car. I was watching, introspecting, and learning little tidbits about the role of a student. If I ever needed one.
I set off driving, put the following address in my sat nav, and was excited. Now, I had actually taken charge of my life once again and wasn't letting anyone else tell me what to do.
Sometimes, it felt like fate, fleas, the pack, or some naughty medical facility were messing up and deciding my life and what to do for me. I knew it was finally time to do exactly what I wanted to do, not what I was supposed to do, because I had an obligation or ability to do it, like fleas.
I mean, I loved the gigs and the planning, but once it became a job. It wasn't one of those things you just did in passing, but once I started doing it, it took over, and there was a lot to do.
Not just physical jobs, but if I started working, then I had to do jobs, decisions. Plans, and then I had to keep others in mind—those to save first and ensure the safety of all the people involved. Now, I was on leave. I wasn't a manager; I was a student.
I knew that this was going to give me a really wonderful time because I hadn't had time to be as much of a pretender as I could be, and I remembered and felt that side of myself. I was driving through the city, looking for my next destination.
Finally, I pulled up in front of a grey building, went to the kennel clubs, and registered as a trainee judge. I was given a list of shows, the material I had to learn, and the number of days for the tests I had to pass. Oh, how wonderful to learn something new completely.
Then I drove to the house and enjoyed myself. I didn't need Damon; I didn't need Adam, and now I was happy to do what I wanted to do. When I got to the house, I cooked the food even though Damon had done it, but I did it anyway when I wanted to do it.
I talked to Jarod on the phone for five hours. I told him all about my observations of the students and made him swear. It was rare, but when he got angry and annoyed because he wasn't as young-looking as me, he wasn't suitable to be a student. He would have only gone for a lecturer, and he didn't want to be a bloody professor.
But when I told him about my career as a dog show judge, which was about to start, he was interested. The only problem was that he was allergic to dogs and cats. So that wasn't something he could do either. I thought it was funny that he, an experienced pretender, was actually jealous of me.
And I realized that even though I'm a strange creature and nothing about me works as it should, I can do so much that a normal person can do, and I'm actually in a very comfortable position.
When I got off the phone with Jarod, I got into an armchair and started studying dog anatomy, breed standards, and their interpretations, I looked at hundreds of pictures to see the structural differences between individuals, and the slow-motion knowledge built up in my head.
It wasn't until a rather nasty headache, and dizziness made me realize it would be wise to eat again after studying for 20 hours in a row that I got up from my chair, walked to the kitchen, and heated the food while I made the coffee and booked the other drinks picked up the laptop while I ate and then did one more thing I had planned.
I bought that island in my name. It was a gorgeous island, there was an immense mansion, jungle and total privacy, I would then get food and drink there and make it my hideaway, paradise, shelter even.
Once I'd finished eating, I spent a couple of hours in the spa, relaxing, not even treating myself as I just enjoyed the hot soaks and letting my mind wander. Everything I'd learned even better. I didn't need to read things repeatedly. My photographic memory would do the rest of the job.
Then I went downstairs to my bedroom and got dressed. I had received a book list from the university and now I went to see how many books I or we already had and what I should order. When I had finished my inventory, I went to look at the mail.
I took Adam's mail to his desk, knowing that he would pick it up at some point. They weren't that busy. He did quite a lot of things electronically. Then I looked at the envelope in my hand. It was from the vicar's office. I opened it, and there was our wedding certificate or certificate of marriage that we were now officially married. Except, according to these, we weren't.
I'd still have to call the registrar's office because our wedding certificates had come in, and Damon's license had a clerical error. It said Damien Salvatore. Not Damon. Unless my husband wants to change his name, that should be corrected. I thought I'd call myself and ask what actually to do about it. But that's all right. Whether this is a spelling mistake in the official papers, I did not know, but I thought I'd be a good wife and find out as soon as the office opens up.
I had quite a few books already and even correct editions, so I could start studying them while I was at it. I had enough information in my head, and learning new things was a lot of fun.
I found myself in a suitable room, my original bedroom, and started studying. It helps quite a lot when you have a photographic memory, so you don't have to cram theory into your head so many times.
The vicar's office said it was Damon's job to fix the wedding cup, and I couldn't help it. Fine by me. The secretary on the phone had been helpful, but he couldn't say anything about whether there was a typo on the official paper. He refused to fix it because he did not know who I was, and usually, these things are handled personally.
So then Damon would hopefully take care of it somewhere in the meantime. Well, that wasn't a problem in itself; rarely was that paper needed, and it was in my bag waiting for me then. I could throw it in the trash when Damon had fixed the permit, and a new permit would come. Or a certificate, whatever.
I studied for a couple of days, or actually a week, and then actually went to the theory tests for the judge's training. It was fun to be on the exam. It was something completely new again. It was pretty damn easy, or so it seemed.
It was fun because I already had all kinds of dog show judge stuff in my head, from breed standards to awards and grading, title requirements, and also dog health. As a human, I had in my time sometimes studied dog show results. Hip scan results and wondered how some really badly deformed dog could get the best result in a show.
But it was what it was, and the judge had to judge the dog according to the breed standard, not act as a vet. However, I would not get qualified in all breeds because I knew some breeds were too sick, and I didn't want to encourage breeding them.
I studied the jargon and how to write a short and concise judgment, not a story, but always just a few sentences. It was a skill that I got to practice because I saw so much in a dog, and then my judgment was too long, but as I took my time and studied and learned, I got my judgments to a tolerable length.
Then Adam called, and I told him about the island, and Adam had a pretty wild idea about the island. I also told him about the wedding license, and Adam laughed. Yes, they can. He told me that Damon had actually registered them when we had that argument where he had me by the throat against the wall. He hadn't been terribly clear then when he'd filled out the paperwork.
I told Adam how difficult it was to write a brief review of a dog and its appearance. He laughed at my problems and cursed Bran again, but he had a sense of duty to help werewolves, not Bran, and Bran took shameless advantage of that.
Adam asked many questions and said he was coming back to Chicago again. He'd like to spend some time with me because, well, we were in a relationship too. We had a mating bond, and it was a wonderful thing.
He wanted to see if he could seduce me away from my studies. Magnum was dealing with the fleas with Jake, so he didn't have to deal with them either, and he had a protocol that whenever there was a problem, he would be told first, and then he would see if I needed to do anything about it.
He told me he had taken all the experimental weapons from Monaco and they were now being investigated by the military, as they were the work of terrorists and other evil people. Hence, the military wanted to investigate what the enemy had come up with. I said nothing against it.
I had a lot of work to do. Samuel had gone to see the training track with Magnum, told him about my amplification enzymes, and almost made Magnum nervous because I hadn't actually mentioned it to him. He had then told a bit about it to everyone and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Fine.
I had gotten my blood farm set up in Chicago now and had volunteers to find me more donors now; I mean creatures, evil creatures that would be kept tied up, cannula in vein. Blood dripping all the time as long as they survived.
Colin had developed a collection machine that would bag the blood ready and also put the markings on it. He had developed color codes for different strengths of blood, so I would always know what I was getting. I'd been there when I went to register as a judge and had a taste.
Very good. A couple of liter bags of good, strong incubus and the bloodlust were gone again for a while. This one was color-coded purple, and the strongest ones were going to be black. I didn't know Damon's opinion on this, and I didn't really care.
I would not advertise the fact that this had gone ahead. Adam had taken an interest and promised to organize similar ones elsewhere as soon as Colin and Magnum could get machines made. Adam's plan was to guarantee me a secret blood bank in all of my houses where I could always get blood.
I took care not to repeat the Bran episode, because now my nightmares had new facets. Me inside the wall, dehydrating, hunger burning my veins. I didn't mention this to Adam or Damon. Never mind, they'll get over it.
I'd be fine. I'd slowly learn to cope with the nightmares, forget that need for security, and get enough steel in my spine so that one fucking nightmare didn't always paralyze me completely. Adam said he'd come at some point if he could. He couldn't guarantee anything yet, as someone might call at any moment, and then he'd have to go.
I decided to go to the shop. Not to the nearby farms, because there was always the danger that somehow the universe would put my husband there at the same time, and I'd be very dazed. No, the local farms would have to wait.
I went out, and it had arrived. My new hot pink sports Ferrari. A convertible. Perfect. And this was where they'd put this new locker. I went to say hello when my mechanic friend came over and showed me. Shopping would have to wait a little while.
It was a really ingenious system, and no one would find it. Just like normal, I open the trunk and slide my hand right in the back. Then you feel a slight bump. You push on it, and a little needle comes out and takes a little bit of your blood. And then, on the other side of the back, a little panel opens up.
Now, here was the safety. If I put my thumb in here, then a little hatch opens, and there are two guns. Very close to it. One is a tranquilizer gun loaded with a substance that will stop even me, and the other is a regular gun, but it has exploding silver bullets.
To get the mechanism open properly, I have to put my right little finger in the scanner. If Damon tried to threaten me to open the hatch, I could get him down quickly if need be. But the best thing would be if he knew nothing about the entire storage system.
Then, it was a spectacular sight to see the most complex and spacious storage system you'd ever seen. There was everything. It was already loaded with weapons and ammunition. A big fucking first aid kit with one lovely new toy.
A subcutaneous or intramuscular adrenaline implant. It is a surefire way to bring out the rage, prevent sedation, and even counter anesthesia. Excellent. I knew I didn't want to show this to Damon because I wanted to keep this interest a secret. We had a kind of arms race with this implant because if the gentleman was doing the flank just for fun; I had to have an advantage, too.
And anyway. The adrenaline was a super strength that Colin had invented, and it got my rage out enough, but not too much. There were quite a few doses in that implant, and the flea, his name was Brett, told me that Colin would put one in me right away, so that would be an emergency.
I thanked Brett very much, and he promised to put some in every car. I invited him in for a coffee and showed him what I was studying. He laughed that the great leader is soon to be a dog show judge and is studying to be a doctor. We talked about this and that.
He knew about my multiplication enzymes. I was feeling, slowly, that I was soon more a creature with a crazy multiple enzyme than a leader. But that's okay. It was actually nice to see how much everyone wanted to protect me. We had coffee and chatted, and he went on his way when I gave him a big bag of all the baked goods in the freezer. I couldn't eat it all myself, and when I emptied it, I had a good excuse to bake some more.
After he left, I went out and admired my car. I called Adam to go for a drive, and Adam said he could actually come with me. Fine. We agreed to leave in a week. I told him about my Safety Lockers and he was very interested to see it in action, but he told me he would watch carefully what I dug out of my bank vaults so he would go through them and see what went where. He promised to come to the house at some point when he could.
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