Capítulo 334: 13. It Must Have Been Love.
He finally helped me up, and we left the club at 7 am. Damon was extremely pleased to have made some big presentations and got a message across properly. We went to the house and showered together. We were still in a rough mood and didn't eat when we went to the bedroom and were going to have a great marathon.
Nothing was too much, and I had such a strong need to release something inside me, but I still couldn't quite get into it. We had only been fucking for two days, and Bran came over then. Damon showered by himself, and I waited. When he went down, I got in the shower and got dressed.
Damon was just getting at a good pace, his body entwined with Mimi's, when Bran's sudden announcement disrupted their moment. Irritation surged through Damon, but he suppressed it, knowing he had to see Bran. He didn't want Bran to take his frustration out on Mimi. Damon informed her about the interruption and retreated to the shower.
As the warm water cascaded over his body, Damon couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. He hadn't fully tamed Mimi's vampire side as he had intended, and he hoped Bran had a valid reason for intruding on their time together. The thought crossed his mind about the island they were supposed to visit, but Damon had destroyed it with the help of weather witches. He wondered if Mimi had done anything about it yet.
Once dressed, Damon made his way downstairs, a frown forming on his face as he noticed Adam and Samuel were already present. The scent of alcohol wafted in the air, showing that Adam was already drunk. Bran approached Damon and handed him a glass of bourbon, which Damon swiftly consumed in one gulp. The modified vampire drink had an immediate effect, allowing Bran to use his marrok power to bring out Damon's evil twin, Damien. Through pack magic, Bran ensured that Adam and Samuel remained oblivious to the transformation.
Bran greeted Damien, his voice tinged with amusement as he observed the change taking place in Damon's demeanor. Damon's expression became devoid of emotion as he regarded Bran with a detached curiosity, akin to a scientist examining a peculiar bug before crushing it. Bran didn't mind Damon's response at all.
"Morning," Bran began, his tone suggestive. "I have a proposition for you. As you know, Mimi and Damon's relationship is primarily driven by passion. That's why I've intervened. If you can easily ignite Damon's primal desires and throw a wild party, you'll gain power once he realizes what has been done again."
Damien studied Bran for a moment, his expression unchanged as he contemplated the situation. He didn't appreciate being manipulated, but he recognized this plan's opportunities, even if they weren't immediately apparent. The idea of a fiery, passion-filled party with Mimi as a witness intrigued him. Damien didn't dwell on Bran's motives; he simply saw a chance and seized it.
"Fine," Damien responded, his voice devoid of warmth. "I'll ensure Damon falls into the desired mood, and from there, it will take on a life of its own. I won't question what you gain from this. I have my own plans and'll pursue them without disclosing them to you."
Bran nodded approvingly, a smile gracing his lips. This was going to be perfect. This mansion in New York was the perfect place to have a party, and now they had invited everyone from Magnum down to celebrate, so Mimi would have to be alone again, just as this was. Bran didn't always think his ideas through or even where they came from. It never occurred to him that Damon and Mimi were together properly for the first time in over a year, and he was going to spoil it. Not when he wanted a proper party now. And this was just the place.
I went downstairs, and the men were already talking to each other. Samuel was on the phone, and Damon was texting someone. I walked into the dimly lit kitchen, the scent of cooking wafting through the air.
Damon stood there, his voice laced with excitement, saying, "Take what you want, baby; we're having guests over. We're having a party again."
Irritated, I retreated upstairs, the creaking of the stairs echoing in the silence. Frustration consumed me as I pondered what was wrong with Damon. We had just had a great time at the club, indulging in pleasure for two days straight, and now he wanted to throw another party. I couldn't bear to stay here any longer.
Determined, I declared, "I'm not fucking staying here."
Observing my frustration, Bran smirked and commented, "Oh, Mimi, you have some grand houses to party in."
Ignoring him, I made my way up the stairs, my anger intensifying, awakening my dormant vampire side. Control slipped away, and the tranquility I once knew vanished. I hastily packed my bag, attempting to rein in my rage as it bubbled to the surface.
Just as I was preparing to leave, Adam appeared at the door, already intoxicated.
He slurred, "Oh, you're leaving. Where to? You can stay at the party. You don't always have to run away. You know we can have fun at the party, too."
I glared at him, emphasizing, "I don't share. Well, I have to share, but I will not watch it. I'm going to fucking Europe on a road trip, and it might be a while before I bother to come back."
Adam stumbled away without a word, his unsteady gait betraying his inebriation.
Bran took his place and taunted, "Magnum is coming to the party, and so are Charles, Dresden, and Constantine. When the coin is out of it, we're all celebrating. I could put you in a cage and go fuck you myself, but you know what, Mimi? You're not such a good fuck that I'd bother getting off the couch. Do what you want. I don't care."
I retorted venomously, my anger boiling over, "You know what, Bran? Magnum fucks better than you. You don't satisfy a single woman when you only seek your own pleasure. You're the worst fuck I've ever met, a fucking rapist."
Bran remained silent, his eyes catching a glimpse of my fangs as he walked away. Frustration still gnawed at me, especially when Damon appeared at the door, his wet dog smell lingering in the air.
He said, his voice as cold as ever, "Oh, you're running away again. You will not learn. But I will not teach you now. At least I got you busted before Hauptman. Take another break and it'll be juicy to bust you again. "
He looked at me with a familiar gaze reminiscent of the shed incident, and I fell silent. Fuck the others for six months. I didn't care. Damon simply didn't want to be with me, and I couldn't fathom why. Mimosa and Mirella shared my anger, unable to comprehend the situation. This was just my life, destined to be alone and fucking miserable.
I packed my bag and left. I went to the airport and went to Spain. I bought a fuchsia Corvette, and I took off. Fuck the bunch, every one of them. Then I started going through the towns and enjoying myself with Mimosa and Mirella. Mirella would come out now and then, and the three of us would walk around.
Now we were wandering around the towns like tourists, going to the shops, seeing the sights, even going on guided tours to learn about history and everything. We were in Spain for two weeks and toured France for two weeks before we went to our castle in France and started decorating different rooms.
A painting studio, a photography studio, a video editing room, a greenhouse, and a plant lab. Mirella was putting the medbay in order, having taken all the medical knowledge and having quite a wide knowledge of things herself. Whatever room we came up with, that's what we did.
Mimosa got her own room with a great bunk, a treat machine, a treat cabinet, lots of bones and other goodies. Mimosa's room was colorful; there were bright, clean colors. She wanted Vinnie the Pooh curtains for the window, and on the floor, there was a piece of rug; the pieces were in different colors, and Mimosa herself almost put them in place when Mirella helped.
I concentrated on the plant lab and the regular lab and had gotten many new kits in there that tested blood, and one tested shit when the goal was to make the perfect food for Mimosa. The photography studio was also fun, and as I had cameras and lots of plants and flowers outside, it was already spring, so there was plenty to photograph. I could lie on the grass on my belly and photograph different insects and plants. Now I was determined to enjoy and my enjoyment was no longer just sex.
Here I also started a new career, I already went to a couple of Formula races and oh my god it was fun. The room that Mirella and I did together was the blood room. We got the most comfortable chairs we could find, made it absolutely perfect, and then asked for blood from my various storage facilities. We had big fridges and shelves full of different blood, and it was just perfect to sip it while you lazily sat in a chair and enjoyed it.
But the road was calling us, its enticing whispers urging us to explore every nook and cranny. So, after a few weeks, we set off again to continue our adventure in France. As we meandered through the country, I couldn't help but revel in the thrill of racing. I had already triumphed in four Formula races, albeit on a smaller scale, but word was spreading, promising grander races soon.
Time seemed to blur as we journeyed on. Twelve weeks had passed, and yet we had only traversed the vastness of France. My ever-present companion, Mirella, still had so much to be inside me. Then, amidst the Spanish coastal beauty, I stumbled upon an immense villa, a mansion that called out to me. I found solace in the occasional sound of Finnish, a familiar melody amidst the foreign surroundings. Finnish tourists flocked to the area, drawn to its charm, and I, once again, discovered the joy of salmiak, a delicacy I had forgotten for nearly fifteen years.
Seated on the enchanting veranda in Fuengirola, overlooking the endless expanse of the sea, I savored each bite of salmiak, mindful of the additives to avoid. It was the perfect indulgence, a treat that brought me immense satisfaction. The cream-colored, plastered house stood proudly, its six stories adorned with grand windows and glass balconies. I had decorated every inch, infusing it with my own unique touch.
The passing of time had left me uncertain of how many years Damon and I had been married. Our lives were intertwined, yet not without moments of separation. Perhaps that's why anniversaries held little significance to me. Our years together, when averaged, felt disappointingly scarce. And it wasn't solely Damon's fault; there were gigs in Europe and times when I found myself trapped in some suffocating facility. Even when free, I needed time to recover, for healing is slow. And, of course, work often consumed my attention. The rhythm of our life, the ebb and flow of existence, made us endure each other's idiosyncrasies. I couldn't fathom spending a year with a mere hanger-on, or anyone, for that matter.
Maybe at first, it would have been different, but now that I've been able to be independent for so long on my own, I might not even know how to live day to day with someone. The gentle rustling of leaves outside my window reminds me of the solitude I've grown accustomed to.
Yes, Damon and I were in England for a year, but again, we had our careers. The bustling city streets echoed with the sounds of hurried footsteps and car horns, drowning out any potential disagreements.
But if I just had to live in the house and couldn't do gigs or whatever, then there could definitely be arguments about anything. The tension in the air becomes palpable, as if waiting for an eruption. I couldn't imagine a life without gigs or my freedom. The thrill of hunting, the electrifying energy coursing through my veins, saving lives, was my lifeline.
I wasn't the perfect wife, not even close, but I had a relationship with Damon, and I didn't want to admit how diluted we had gotten. The scent of fading passion lingered almost in the room, a bitter reminder of what once was. I could almost smell it.
Before Bran couldn't get Damon off of me, I remember our marathons and a couple of times when Bran had come over; we didn't stop, but now, it was so easy for him to stop. The absence of desire hung heavy in the air, suffocating the room. Well, I got at least two days of Damon, but then again, me and Adam had been fucking for almost a month before the club.
The faint sound of whispered secrets echoes through my mind, a reminder of the clandestine affair that clouded my thoughts. And my gig at the hospital where again Damon came to my rescue, fed me, cleaned my head, and made sure I slept. The comforting touch of his hand against my cheek, the soothing scent of his cologne enveloping me, provided a temporary solace.
Then, when he released his pressure, well, the club was actually great, but it just wasn't enough. The pulsating beat reverberated through my body as if trying to drown out the void within me. I sighed and got up, went to the blood room once again, and drank some blood. My musings and the entire ordeal had just blown out my bloodlust once again.
I was in Fuengirola for a week, and then I got so restless that I went back to America and started going to fight clubs. The adrenaline-fueled atmosphere of the fight clubs and the thunderous roar of the crowd offered a temporary escape from my own thoughts. My thoughts were too much on my self-pity and our relationship with Damon, and I didn't want to be a victim. The suffocating weight of despair lifts slightly, as I made a conscious decision to rise above it.
Emotions were a weakness, and then I realized that even though Damon had unraveled something about himself by killing women, I hadn't had time. Sex could have helped, but it was too short to unravel. So, it was time to find other ways.
We went to a Pennsylvania mansion, and I told the fleas to find me in the meanest, worst fight clubs they could find. Now it was time to decompress. I was demon slaying while the demon slayers in our entire pack were partying, so I got into it at the same time. We moved from Pennsylvania to Philadelphia because there were good fight clubs and a lot of demon activity. It was time to get some more donors on my blood farms.
My days were a whirlwind of activity, filled with bustling streets and vibrant city life. As Magnum and Adam reveled in the New York nightlife, I led the charge in Philadelphia. The constant hum of work kept me away from the comfort of my home, and I was always on the go.
Murdock returned, accompanied by the familiar faces of Jake, Rob, and Penn. Together, we formed a formidable team, hunting down the demonic nests that plagued our city. Amidst the chaos, I ventured out onto the streets, seeking willing donors for my blood farms. Penn and Burt stood by my side, their presence a reassurance in this dangerous endeavor.
We would gather in the dimly lit bar, exchanging stories and watching over the victims we had saved. But my nights took a darker turn as I sought the most brutal fight clubs in America. The sound of fists colliding and the desperate cries of pain filled the air. In these moments, I unleashed the full force of my rage, only to be pulled back by Penn, a whisperer of rage.
After the fight club, we would make our way to the base, seeking solace and care from Hugh. The base buzzed with activity, with Mimosa tirelessly organizing kill lists and providing guidance. In the medbay, I surrendered to sleep as Hugh removed the demon blades and extracted division demon teeth from my body. Upon waking, I sat in contemplation before heading to my office, cleansing myself in a soothing shower and immersing myself in the analysis of potential allies.
The idea of encountering supernatural hunters, killers, vampires, and demons amused me but also filled me with a sense of caution. Humans have a tendency to act recklessly, shooting first and asking questions later. Still, perhaps it was time to meet these individuals myself. I couldn't help but wonder about their intentions toward me, envisioning a daring and impulsive character who would test my limits.
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