It had been a week since Mariella and Salvatore came to our little party, and as one can imagine, they pretty much took over.
Well, in any case, Mariella was determined to use every male, and at the same time, Elena and Katherine, as well as wolves, kept the Salvatores pretty busy.
I had my guys, and it was Sunday, or something; we had had a bonfire meal, and music was still playing.
Aqua’s “We Belong to the Sea” was playing softly as I sat on the warm sand watching our bonfire, listening to the song and sighing softly.
I leaned slightly, feeling a strong arm wrap around me and hearing a voice say, “You know, this is pretty damn perfect, just you and me; let others do what they do.”
I looked at Wulfe; he was sitting next to me, and he was not interested anymore in fucking and sex, not since Mariella more or less took the whole thing over.
Thank God there were good cleaning spells in the rooms, but then again, it was kind of fun to watch in the morning when whoever had gotten to her web trudged utterly spent to eat something.
Sure, they got and gave as well, and Mariella too was toned up and not so flabby.
I heard her complaining to Damon at one point: men are so damn demeaning, and it feels like sports when they really get creative with positions and places.
As it was, it was more of an adventure and having fun than actually making sure the princess got her pleasure; these were not pussy slaves, and they used Mariella, and not in the best way, but more or less as a sex toy, more or less.
One has to have the correct attitude when dealing with them.
“I am not sure what happens next; I have an inkling thought,” I pondered aloud, gazing at the starry night; even the stars were obscured by the many buildings nearby.
Fuengirola was a popular place, and despite my plot’s size, lights were constant.
Wulfe hummed along to a Finnish song called “Katson autiota hiekkarantaa” by Katri Helena.
It was a song about loss, about returning to places where the singer had once been happy before losing him.
“Do you think they are happy? Do they miss us?” I asked, not directly to Wulfe, but out loud.
Wulfe’s voice was soft.
“I hope not too badly; I miss them dearly, but Magic House is good at keeping them busy. So many changes, I think they don’t have much time to miss us. We, however, have all the time in the world to miss them. What is your intuition, my unicorn?”
His warm breath brushed against my cheek.
I sighed, took a handful of soft sand, let it fall between my fingers, and said, “I believe Mariella is attempting to twist heat; she is most likely manipulating Damon and Salvatores to pump females full of heat. I have no clear evidence; it is more of a gut feeling, and that same gut feeling says it will not work.”
Wulfe hummed and commented, “Well, Damon is not very skilled, and since you are not in it, if it is Mariella’s plot, it will not work. And if you confront her, she might pull everyone in to protect her and make you look like a jealous hag.”
I nodded; we both knew what Mariella could be at her best, though I wasn’t sure because I hadn’t seen much of her.
Sure, she talked and made several salvatores think of something, but she was never as maternal as I was, and our drama, our catfights, well, those were a thing of the past.
I was just sitting there, in the warm evening breeze, smelling the ocean, Wulfe’s burning paper, and a faint tang of pine resin, the scent of his love, with a hint of nutmeg, his seduction.
We had been active in bed, but we had our own room.
Hidden from others.
We have our own nest, and we might not even fuck every night; instead, we watch movies and TV shows and sleep cuddling together.
Our bond was incredible; I had never felt anything for anyone like this, and he truly was my other half.
We had a pact, and I still had a lot of secrets.
But every night, right before I went to bed, I’d tell him one.
And then I would fall asleep, and he would have to deal with it; not all of my secrets made him particularly happy.
They were nasty, and it would take him some time to deal with them.
He was not going to tell Damon unless it was absolutely necessary.
There was no chance my secrets would be revealed anytime soon.
When I woke up in the morning, something had happened in my mind; the secret might have vanished along with all the data associated with it, but this was uncommon; rather, the secret had faded in importance or meaning to me.
Or it was hidden deep in my mind, and I couldn’t find it; I knew the basics, but not everything.
Say, a long time ago, I killed Damien for the first time.
I had my dark period, which meant I went rogue, my darkness fully out, and went on a killing and torturing spree all over America, targeting sarks.
And as I tortured them, oh, they talked.
Not that it helped them, but anyway, a lot of information came into my mind.
As time passed, my brain arranged them, and patterns emerged, so I got quite an astonishing flood of connections, which I occasionally told Wulfe, as sarks were our primary adversary.
I had learned a lot about the process of keeping any metal in liquid form at room temperature, as well as who delivered the supplies, what chemicals were required, and where they could be obtained.
As I told Wulfe, he told certain fleas, not Magnum or Alaric, not yet, and he had convinced my NSA handlers to listen to him, and they were one channel through which he sent data.
Now, say, the NSA, FBI, or even the CIA isn’t too happy about trigger-happy mad scientists who can keep any metal liquid, potentially poisoning the president, as it takes less than 500 mg of liquid vanadium to kill a human; it’s tasteless, and a few drops suffice.
Fucking nasty way to assassinate higher-ups.
As a result, the Pentagon was forced to devise new strategies to combat these threats.
I had given a few hints as to where to find certain key players, and soon there was a list of people of interest longer than my arm.
This hit Sarks hard, and when I told Wulfe about more patterns of these financiers, he informed banks and the IRS, who conducted investigations, and the FDA was alerted to ensure that tainted drugs were properly disposed of.
Sure, it would hit them, but in the grand scheme of things, I knew the impact would be minimal.
Our fight would continue, but it was important to raise awareness among humans as well.
So they’d see how ugly the world can be.
We were sitting on the beach, the world far away from us, and it was just time for the two of us.
Wulfe leaned back, and I followed suit, lying on my back, gazing at the night sky, a few stars visible as the lights dimmed and it became darker.
“What are you two doing here? Mimi, you have taken Wulfe to yourself,” the voice said.
Mimosa walked to sit next to us, and she, too, lay on her back, looking up.
She said, “I am not in the mood to boost Miss Pussy’s energy grid or give her a boost. Damon snatches our lust waves and uses them on her, spoiling the whole thing.” Her voice was slightly bitter.
I told her, “I believe Mariella is attempting to twist heat, but it will not work, and then it will be another clusterfuck, and I don’t have the energy to stop her as she turns this into drama.”
Mimosa hummed, and Wulfe was naughty; he would let his hand wander over her body, making her squirm.
Mimosa exclaimed, “Damn, male, what are you doing to me?”
Wulfe smirked.
“Just a few lust spells; I got quite a selection of them during that time. As you can tell, they are pretty strong.”
She exhaled, her hips jerking, and turned to kiss Wulfe, who smashed his lips against hers.
I could smell Mimosa’s bloodlust and knew Wulfe would do his best to calm her down, so I wasn’t surprised when they teleported away.
I made a decision not to risk my health for heat that wouldn’t work.
I would tell everyone at breakfast that if Miss Pussy wanted to fuck, she could go back to the Azores.
I was getting ready for work, feeling restless, and my biggest need had blown over.
It seemed the party was truly over, thanks to the overly lustful, weakest female of the pack.
But it was just what it was, and I would not get stuck on it.
If she wanted to have heat, so be it, but I would not be part of it.
I would say it as well, given the chance that I might give off some pheromones, as I was pissed off, turning Mariella into a breeding machine, as we had read it in books; she knew it as well as I did.
As wonderful and healing as this period had been, I had to admit that in my life there was one absolute: it was that all good things must come to an end, and now it was time to end this.
Music kept playing still, as our sound system was built to the outside too, and I was still lying on sand, looking at night, listening to Pink’s Try, the lyrics telling their own story, not that my heart was broken, not at all.
It had been wonderful and fun, but I was wondering: was it just me, or how did it all turn somehow so cheap once Mariella took over, overly lustful?
No more slow seduction, but she pretty much went for whom she was after, and she took several.
Leaving a thick cloud of lust for her, and as most of us were energy creatures- well, not me, Wulfe, Elena, or Katherine; I was not sure about Tim or Taylor; they were affected by it.
And then it turned into an orgy, cheap, meaningless sex, and my libido dropped like a stone.
I realized that it had been my way of healing and moving on, and she had trashed it, cheapened it, and not understood it at all, and now it was too late, and I was too tired to even try to explain it to her.
My life was what it was, and now it was time for me to be once again who I had to be and get to one point with my organization.
And one part of me woke up as I was starting to plan my path forward.
My spark was once more ignited, and I was more than ready to be a fearless leader of resistance.
An over three-million-people-strong worldwide organization that had been around for about 150 years, more or less.
It was once more time for Flea to show the world how it is done.
It was early morning as I was in the kitchen fixing myself breakfast.
Not that many had eaten so much; well, we had been eating this and that before Mariella, but not so much since she came.
I was frying with my brand-new, top-of-the-line pan with some quality wagyu tri-tips and five huge thick steaks, just perfect, and I had my compound butter on them.
It was actually made out of my own churned butter as well as an unscented bump of Salvatores, some herbs, salt, cream cheese, and a hint of garlic.
The steaks were fatty, thick, and smelled amazing.
I had melted my butter so I could cut knobs on it, and I had some fresh tiny potatoes boiling in one pot; even though it was winter, Magic House grew potatoes elsewhere and had given them to us as well, and I also had my mini sweet potatoes; I was just going to eat my potatoes with butter and some fresh dill.
I already had five liters of superstrong coffee waiting for me, and for dessert, waffle rolls made with Salvatore-made ice cream, fresh berries, and whipped cream.
I also made a large layer cake and piped it to perfection, using a vampiric palette of black, violet, white, and gold, as well as red, and filled it with mixed berries and my blood, which was thickened with gelatin.
“Mimi, what on earth are you doing?
What on earth are you doing?
I was just coming to get something to drink,” Mariella said behind me, but as soon as she saw my treats, she pursed her lips and said, “Well, I think I am going to take a shower and have an actual breakfast, as this smells wonderful, but why are you not…”
I replied, “My libido dropped as you started to ooze lust and ruined our party, so this is me moving on. I know your idea of keeping heat is not going to happen, and I suggest rein it in unless you want to become a breeding machine.”
My guess was that she intended to hook me up with Salvatores and deliver some serious hits to her energy grid.
Oh, I had one little trick up my sleeve, but not right now; I knew the kitchen would soon be full, as Mariella would complain about me to Damon, and he might think he has a set of balls.
He doesn’t actually have any.
Ten minutes later, I heard animated conversation as men and women entered the kitchen.
There were some meals on the shelves, but I was making my own, and I was just finishing my prime rib, which was perfect.
“My love, what are you doing here?” Colin’s dark croon was next to my ear; he’d mostly been with wolves or girls, with the exception of Mariella, who wasn’t his ideal female.
“I’m preparing my breakfast because it appears our vacation has come to an end, at least on my part,” I replied, turning my head and kissing him.
Number one walked into the kitchen wearing one of my shirts.
It appeared he had been pilfering my clothes here because this shirt was one he had never seen before; it was a handmade silk shirt with golden decoration that he had customized with his initials.
He walked next to me, looking at my pan and grunting softly as he noticed my potatoes, tiny mini sweet potatoes, and my special butter.
He tasted it, but said nothing.
“Move over, baby, get drinks; I’ll fix our meal, and soon we’ll be able to eat and see what happens next,” he said, nudging me away from my prime ribs.
I noticed his pronoun, and soon Charles arrived, warming something in a small pot that he had taken from the fridge for Mariella; it appeared to be moose sauce with some pork cubes.
Other salvatores flocked into the cooking area, and numbers five and two noticed my cake.
Number Two took a long knife and cut it; both salvatores were smelling my blood inside, causing them to grunt, and the slight redness in their eyes told me they were bloodthirsty, which was fine.
I walked out of the kitchen and into my bloodroom, but Wulfe walked behind me, as he had gotten my vampire side.
The bitch, as it was called, weakened quite a lot during our time together, but not entirely.
He was making sure there were no setbacks because the bitch was much harder to integrate into me than he had initially thought, due to triggers and old feelings and sensations.
I took several silver jugs and lined them up.
And started to move amongst the shelves, plucking bags of blood into my arms.
Wulfe took some of them, as he had already poured some into jugs, and it seemed he had his own idea of what kind of blood mix was needed.
I walked back part of the room and discovered one rarity; well, it was strong, and it had an effect on me that was too strong to drink every time, but only occasionally.
It put me in a strange mood because it was nephilim, tainted nephilim blood, which meant it gave me euphoria while also affecting me another way.
It didn’t do anything bad to me other than make me pissed off.
So if I drank this, I’d be euphoric and pissed off at the same time, which was a hilarious feeling.
“Oh my unicorn, what you have there—nope, not that, not yet. This is good shit; I shall take this. Thank you very much,” Wulfe said as he snatched Nephilim blood out of my reach.
He took instead the dark elf king’s blood, darn potent stuff, and poured a full bag into each of the jugs.
Well, at least those mixes would pack a punch.
He said, “I want to work with you, not have an orgy, and I guess not so many want an orgy, so let’s make Salvatores into an orgy mood, as well, Mariella. And yeah, I am too ready to work, rain hell on sarks.”
Despite his calm attitude, I knew him well enough; he was pissed off, and badly so.
And one pissed-off Wulfe is not a laughing matter.
He was once more going to give Salvatore a lesson of a lifetime.
He noticed my special case and said, “Open it, or I’ll bust it open.”
I stammered, “But…but I have there split demon king’s blood; it is guaranteed orgy, or even much less.”
He did not let me have any choice, so I took out the key from my tattoo and opened the lock.
He poured the whole damn bag into each jug and then teleported them to the kitchen.
I closed my box and walked out of the blood room.
I was not in need of blood right now, maybe later, but not yet.
It was time for us to move on and let the Salvatores continue their orgy and use Mariella not in any good way; Wulfe’s mix would make sure of that.
She would be used, and now her pleasure, her needs, and her wants meant nothing.
Just right for her.