Capítulo 363: 2. It's My Life.
I'd been sick for eight long weeks. My body weakened, and my spirits were low. Damon had been my constant caregiver throughout, tending to my every need. The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as I lay on my sick bed, the sterile environment becoming all too familiar.
Well, no wonder Damon needed a break now and then. I couldn't blame him. The soft hum of the air conditioning provided a soothing background noise, mingling with the occasional beep of medical equipment.
As I reflected on my situation, I realized I wasn't in a rush to marry Damon. I had experienced one disastrous wedding before and didn't need another. My engagement to Adam was still fresh in my mind, and the weight of the ring on my finger was a constant reminder. I recalled Damon's touch on the ring during one of our respiratory therapy sessions, a moment when he had momentarily let his guard down.
Damon had always been possessive, fiercely protective of what he considered his. That's why he had proposed when I was no longer his, but Adam's. A flicker of uncertainty passed through me as I considered my options.
Leaving the confines of my sick room behind, I ventured out to Pennsylvania, seeking a fresh path. The vibrant colors of nature greeted me as I got my veterinary license, the crisp scent of freshly cut grass filling my nostrils. Memories of assisting at the zoo flooded my mind, reminding me of the potential in between.
But now, a different idea took root. My fae contact, Beauclair, had presented an intriguing proposition - to burn the corrupted medical facilities, to expose them and for good. The thought consumed me, filling my mind with determination. It would require time and unwavering focus, but the concept of forever urged me forward.
I was a free woman, relishing the absence of splitting my time between married life and work. Once again, being in Sark's hands was a nightmare, leaving me with a deep sense of dread. The European gigs had thankfully come to a temporary halt, and as I sat down for breakfast, I made a vow to ignore any doorbell that dared to ring.
My studies stretched out for three long months, as I knew the men were busy reveling in their own celebrations. Now that I had got my vet's license, I had no desire to go anywhere else. Simultaneously, I delved into investigating how we could expose this sinister operation.
Jake and Rob were enjoying their vacation, while my skilled hacker team diligently worked. Adam, Magnum, and Colin had gathered ample supplies and invaluable information from the Sark facility, which proved useful during the year I dedicated to saving the world.
The veterinary studies and training provided me with a much-needed sense of detachment and perspective, preventing me from making careless mistakes. However, the task ahead required meticulous planning. It would demand relentless effort, but once accomplished, I wouldn't have to toil as intensely to locate the perfect target and involve the authorities in our mission.
Operating under their own laws, the situation became increasingly complex as our observations failed to allow them to act. We needed irrefutable evidence to compel the authorities to intervene and living victims brave enough to testify.
After those three months, I was ready to return to work, but I would no longer prioritize the gigs unless absolutely necessary. We now had a few fae and shifters alongside talented witches and wizards. The number of fleas in our ranks grew daily, and I took comfort in the presence of my trusted friends.
Penn and Ruby retired from active duty and moved on to civilian life, but they were no longer involved. I wished them well, though it was a bittersweet goodbye. We had had some delightful times together, and I was happy for them because now they lived a decent, good life with no bullets or heartbreaking losses. They left knowing they had to forget certain details, like base locations and protocols, because of vampire compulsion. They seemed unaffected by it all.
Amanda, Melissa, and Heidi - a formidable trio who excelled in obtaining crucial information whenever needed had replaced Burt. Their hacking skills were truly impressive. Their focus shifted to unearthing information that would bring this operation to light. It was a new challenge for us. These remarkable women delved deep into Sark's records and accounts, causing significant financial turmoil for the company and its investors. These three women impressed me very much.
Billy had moved to Europe and worked there when he worked. My little Billy had all grown up, and he had a social life and girlfriend, and I might lose him too. But these losses were good ones that didn't leave a gravestone in my heart.
The grand architecture and sprawling grounds of the Pennsylvania mansion provided a serene backdrop for my work. As I toiled away, I could hear the faint rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, mingling with the distant hum of machinery. The air was heavy with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee, its robust scent enveloping the room. Beside me, Mimosa, my loyal companion, let out a soft howl, her presence comforting in its solitude.
I relied on my thermos of strong coffee, its warmth seeping into my hands as I sipped it, fueling my determination. A potent concoction of blood, a mixture I had grown accustomed to, sat simmering in a large pot nearby, its metallic tang lingering in the air. It was a peculiar blend, but one that sustained me in my relentless pursuit. It was whatever blood I had in hand, strong enough, of course, but I did not seek the best mix; it was just something that would keep my vampire side happy.
Amidst my work, I had to scour the premises, seeking potential facilities and deciphering their purpose. With each discovery, I couldn't help but wonder: Were they harboring secrets, or were they innocuous? If their intentions proved nefarious, we would have no choice but to intervene. And if that happened, was there something that we could direct to the authorities? Was there something that we could give tips about to our friends in the police and other authorities?
It was not a straightforward task, and my need to save everyone drove us to usually handle these facilities ourselves, as I still remember those killed victims. Hard choices had to be made every single day. Every day, what went on planning and scouting for some evil facility were days that meant more torture for those who were victims, or maybe even their death, as we just weren't fast enough.
Although we had fleas, our numbers were growing by the day, and our resources were limited, forcing us to prioritize between rescue missions and covert investigations. Naturally, rescuing those in need took precedence, and each mission was meticulously analyzed, hoping for a breakthrough. Saving victims was always a priority.
Lost in my endeavors, I hardly noticed when the men's revelries had ceased, and they had arrived at the Pennsylvania mansion. My focus was unyielding, and I relished the opportunity to engage in intellectual pursuits that didn't demand physical exertion. I didn't mind desk work. I liked to plan to get information, and then that information would come together in my mind as my memory was perfect.
Occasionally, my energy waned, my sugars dipping, but it was a minor inconvenience, easily overcome. The men would occasionally bring me sustenance, their offerings tempting me away from my task, but I remained steadfast, unappreciative of their distractions.
There were moments when I would awaken abruptly, a sugar IV in progress, but it failed to hinder my progress. I just coolly took my phone and continued my work. I found myself in Medbay because my blood sugar hit rock bottom, causing me to faint. And Samuel expresses his displeasure, threatening to inform Salvatore. My awareness of Damon's presence was unclear; all I could discern were echoes of the men's voices as they adorned the mansion.
I did not know if Damon was even in the house. But Samuel told me that Damon gets a notification on his phone every time my medical record is updated, as his license for being my main medical person has been renewed. Samuel told me he had taken some blood work on me, too, so Damon might want to chat with me at some point.
Within the mansion's many empty rooms, Mimosa would occasionally roam freely, engaging in conversations with the men. In this Pennsylvania mansion, I found solace, a sanctuary to orchestrate my resistance. My office was perfect, and my ability to work without sleep was very handy.
For now, I have temporarily set aside any missions and blasting gigs, and my focus is solely dedicated to gaining publicity for the cause. Thus far, any rescue from the clutches of the medical establishment had to be executed covertly, leaving no room for involving the press. And when we were forced to obliterate the evidence, the authorities remained oblivious to the potential significance of the charred remnants of the old factory.
Even if someone would go to the authorities and tell them what he had been through, there would not be any evidence, and they just had nothing to go by. It's just some burned building and random ramblings of some crazy guy.
Bran immersed himself in Washington, DC's bustling atmosphere as he conversed with congressmen and judges. The grandeur of the city failed to awe him these days. Initially, he had shrugged off the benefits of The Human Act, which had exempted him from taxes and other bothersome obligations. He didn't mind being classified as an animal, as he had so many perks.
However, everything changed when I rescued 18 of Bran's wolves from a facility. The trauma they endured, their ravaged homes, and the state's seizure of their property struck a deep chord within him. It ignited a fierce determination in Bran to seek change, sparing no one in his pursuit. He fought with everything, got those homes back, and saw what that law actually did. He got a wake-up call, and that was not a nice one.
Thanks to our friend Beauclair, Congress and other decision-makers became steadily involved. Yet progress remained slow until we found a credible victim who would testify, supported by medical evidence. I endeavored to organize a rescue mission to expose the horrors that lurked. Work took precedence as much as I cherished my time with Adam or Damon. My duties and responsibilities outweighed my personal desires.
Although Damon and I were not yet remarried, he believed the third time would be the charm. However, I still needed time to heal. Our over-year-long separation had led both of us to say and do regrettable things. I had engaged in encounters with 21 unfamiliar men, including a three-day affair with Rob on a cruise. Damon remained unaware of my involvement with Rob, and I knew that one day, it would come to light.
Damon, Adam, and even Samuel offered their help whenever possible, but I had grown accustomed to handling things myself over the years. Despite the advice of many, I couldn't delegate much, fearing that relinquishing control would lead to unnecessary deaths and unforeseen complications.
It had been a couple of weeks since the men were in the house. The well-lit study became my sanctuary, where the scent of old books mingled with the faint aroma of coffee. Regular intervals brought visitors, their footsteps echoing through the hallway as they entered to help, feed, or engage in conversation.
If invited, I would graciously join the pack for meals, letting the lively ambiance of the kitchen envelope me. Damon, always present, would administer his potent sedatives, guiding me to dinner like a docile companion. The drugs, though effective, dulled my senses and shattered my focus, a constant reminder of their presence. So I had the motivation to eat if someone told me. I didn't want to end up drugged and fed all the time. I was on a roll with my work.
Adam, ever curious, attempted to unravel the mystery of the Fleas' demise, seeking answers from me. I had tried to speak when they had rescued me and taken care of me, but my mumbling had been too incoherent. So, for now, I simply mumbled a vague response, unwilling to divulge the truth. I had taken him to Lake Lanier; I revealed the engraved plaques bearing the names of the fallen, the weight of their loss heavy in the air. The experience left me shaken, an indelible memory etched into my mind, one I wished to bury and forget. But I can't. My memory, a supernatural photographic memory, ensures that I will never forget.
Understanding my need for solitude, Bran would occasionally enter my office as a silent observer, offering his support. Yet, he could do nothing as the weight of the past lingered within me, unspoken and unshared. Bran tried to get me to tell him and convince me it was good to share. But I didn't.
Damon, relentless in his pursuit of answers, resorted to threats, promising to drug me or extract the truth through force. "One day, darling, you'll reveal everything," he whispered with a chilling determination. This was the essence of Damon, as Damien had described. But in time, he would make me reveal everything, but I must say, his experience was not so pleasant from that time either.
But I remained steadfast. I would never disclose the details, for they were mine alone to bear. The Fleas were my comrades, my plans, my mistakes—no one else's business.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder