It was Friday again, which meant tomorrow would mark the start of my 28th week. Adam and the boys would be home for a week before being gone for the next two. They were earning money, which was happily spent on Mariella's hospital bills, a fact that landed in my email inbox when I was packleader. Of course, I paid the bills promptly, even a little early, so there was no chance of Damon or Mariella giving me any grief.
My belly was huge, housing five happily wiggling creatures who were having the time of their lives. While I didn't feel like I was glowing with happiness, I maintained a friendly posture and expression whenever customers walked in, but internally, I was sore, to say the least.
The wedding, my largest order, was going well, aside from a few minor hitches. The bride had requested about 30 extra items and had specific color preferences. She, like me, loved pink, so she also wanted variety. She wasn't afraid to push boundaries, meaning lilies, peonies, roses, and even red daisies would be used, whatever I could get my hands on. She also had extra requests, like small cards with facts about the flowers in each arrangement. It wasn't hard for me, but it was work.
Luckily, Lily as well as May, were working with me today, taking care of most of the customers while I crafted the next pieces. Thank God we only had to make the arrangements; other workers would set them up and pick them up later. The wedding was later in the summer, and I suspected I might have my little ones by then, but the girls would be manning the shop during the summer, at least partially.
I would then see if I could make some arrangements at home that they could bring into the shop. I had talked this over with Wulfe, who was working hard, having seen Mariella's hospital bills and gotten angry, but he was becoming very important to his company, meaning money was coming in, and it was needed.
I was now in what we called the backroom, which was simply a separate area where I crafted my floral arrangements. My current theme was pink, rose, orange, white, and green, with accents of magenta and colored grass.
Before me lay an assortment of flowers: light pink carnations, deep, tightly colored *Celosia cristata* (also known as cockscombs), spray roses ranging from white to bright orange, various greenery, moss, hay, hosta leaves, wide-stemmed grass, green carnations, and green bells of Ireland, plus hydrangeas and lisianthus. I had more species and shades available if needed. I was currently working on a large, bottlenecked vase, striving to create an elegant spray of colors, humming to myself as I worked.
Everything was fine. Damon called me twice a day: once after I got home and again after my last monitoring session. He would review my pictures and offer his opinion. There had been no activity in my uterus so far.
Everything was fine, though I had been sending him a few of my daily belly pictures, which I kept in my pregnancy journal. It was fun. I was thinking of keeping a copy for myself, and perhaps letting the children read it when they were older, but of course, that would be up to Damon, Wulfe, or Adam. I had a lot of bossy men in my life.
Adam had called a few times during his breaks, discussing upgrading my shop's security. He would have to make a plan and then delegate it, but that was for later.
May was at the register, handling things while her sister, Lily, was arranging the crystals for what felt like the millionth time. May resembled Mimi, but she was taller and slightly fuller. She also had a touch of Damon's intensity in her face.
Out of the four sisters, May's rage was the most explosive. She was a true version of Mimi, not necessarily elevated, but not diminished either. She was immensely proud to be part of their world for thirteen years and saw her mother, Mimi, as an alpha female and a true superhero, at least in her eyes.
May wore a white t-shirt and blue jeans. Even though she had children of her own, her body was tight and toned. Her metabolism was not quite as frantic as Mimi's, but much faster than normal vampires or humans. Her pitch-black hair was in a tight braid that hung down her back. It wasn't as long as her mother's, but it was long and spiky-straight. She usually wore it loose, but in the shop, it was neater to keep it braided.
The door opened, and three men entered. Something about them made May cautious, and despite the polite smile she wore, she felt a growing unease. The tallest man, beefy with cropped blonde hair and nasty beady eyes, was human. The other two men, also human, looked at May, perceiving her supernatural nature. This caused the tall man's thin lips to twist into a sneer.
"You alone here? Where's Bosslady, the pregnant one?" he asked, his voice low and growling.
May asked, "What do you want?"
The man stepped closer, his two companions flanking him, blocking the door. A backdoor was available, but May was too close to the men.
"Get me the boss lady and behave," the man ordered.
He produced a long, nasty, silver-hued dagger. May could smell the acrid sting of vanadium in the air; this was not good. The other two men also drew their weapons. One had a decent-sized pistol, likely with silver or platinum bullets, and the other had a knife. As one man's sleeve pulled back, May saw a tattoo: a stylized earth with a cross.
*Great*, she thought. *Pro-humanity activists with knives and guns.*
The man repeated his demand: "Bosslady, the pregnant one, call her over, and while you're at it, open the register."
The man moved closer to the coffee table, grabbed a bun, and took a bite. The others followed suit.
May took a deep breath and telepathically contacted her sister. "This is nasty, these damn thugs. I'm not a fighter; Mom could take them out with a flick of her finger...except she's pregnant."
Lily responded, "Call her over; she might have a trick. No need for us to try something we're not equipped to do."
May confirmed and said aloud, "Hey Mom, customers want to see you, could you come over?"
The tallest thug smiled evilly.
May's suddenly tense voice pulled me over, and I couldn't help but feel my senses prickle; something was terribly wrong. I slipped my phone into my pocket, ready to text if needed, but there was no risk of pocket dialing. Hopping down from my chair, I waddled onto the shop floor.
Three human thugs stood there, each armed: one with a modified Glock loaded with platinum-dipped rhodium rounds, another with a nasty, long vanadium dagger, and the third with a silver, almost saber-like weapon. I was promised to life without Sark and other nasties, but perhaps this was the reality of supernaturals coexisting in this world.
If I didn't resemble a beached whale, these three would be on the ground in seconds, but I was heavily pregnant. My back ached, my legs were partially numb, and seeing these crooks guzzling coffee and eating buns made my pregnant mind almost explode with rage.
Keeping my voice calm, I asked, "Are you going to pay for those? What is this all about?"
The tallest grunt walked up to me, poked my belly, and said, "We're here to give you a message, a message of blood and suffering, you damn freak. You shut this damn herbal shop, let honest, God-fearing humans have their businesses here, and pay them happily."
He pushed me harder, almost toppling me over.
He continued, "I will gut you, carve that belly of yours open, and dig out those bastards, and let you watch as I kill them, slowly, making them cry."
Another push, another poke. My eyes flashed.
One of the men raised his gun and pointed it at Lily. "Behave, or you'll have a funeral ahead of you."
I said calmly, "I am not going to shut my shop. I have the right to be here. I pay my taxes, and I bring money to this town, unlike you thugs. Now, I'll say this only once: leave now, and do not return. I will press no charges, and we will forget this ever happened. But keep going, and you'll see what I can do."
Thug number two pointed his gun at my belly, stepped closer, and pushed me hard, forcing me backward, my back and hip slamming painfully against one of the counters. "And what is that, freak?"
The muzzle of the pistol pressed against my belly.
Fine, they asked for this! I took a step, stomping on his toes.
"This!" I thought to myself, knowing I had the strength to really make this feel. His metatarsal bones crunched, and his gun hand wavered.
"Oh, you little piece of shit," he spat, slapping me.
I partially toppled, my hand and arm hitting the floor first, followed by my belly with a thud, though I managed to break the fall somewhat. Pain jolted through my body, searing through my pelvis and down my legs. My rage ignited.
Suddenly, three thugs found themselves unable to move or speak, as my telekinesis slammed over them with my will. May was frantic, asking if I was okay.
I replied, "Go get the cops, I'm fine."
The police station was not far from my shop, and May sprinted out, with Lily walking towards me.
I repeated, "Just leave it, wait for the cops, I'm fine," as she tried to help me up.
My side and arm ached, but most of all, I needed to control myself, as my rage was about to explode, and these thugs would become corpses if I let it. I needed to focus, not be distracted.
I was still on the floor when May and several local police officers walked in. One of them grabbed his radio and called for paramedics as he saw me, pregnant, lying on the floor with a ferocious sneer on my face.
He asked, "Are you okay? I've called paramedics; they will check you out."
I replied, "I'm fine. I'm holding those with my willpower, so I suggest you grab them as I let them go."
The police officer nodded; I knew him, he was Sheila's son, and he was not happy with these thugs. The police grabbed handcuffs, and I released my telekinesis. The thugs were still cursing and trying to break free, making the police tighten their grips.
The leader of the thugs sneered, "You got lucky this time, freak. It's only your word against ours. We're humans, and you're a freak who likes to make up stories."
However, his bravado was quickly extinguished as Lily walked up to Sheila's son, Benjamin, handing him a USB stick. "Here are our surveillance tapes. I have a copy for my family, but this is the original," she said.
Benjamin nodded and instructed his men, "Haul those thugs into jail. I'll take statements from Mrs. Salvatore and the girls."
Grim-faced police officers began dragging the still-fighting, kicking men out of my shop. Five minutes later, I heard the ambulance arriving in the yard as May was already on the phone with Damon.
Damon had been in the ward, and Mariella was once more restless and angry, but he managed to keep her in check by reminding her what was at stake. When his phone buzzed, he was slightly surprised to see it was his older daughter, May, calling with Mimi. May, a near-perfect copy of his mother, began a rambling account of what had just happened: three thugs, wielding guns and daggers, had come in and threatened Mimi. Mimi had fallen, and paramedics were on their way.
Rage, like no other, flooded Damon's gut, hot and burning, causing him to tighten his grip on the phone. Unease morphed into almost desperation, rage warring with his need to be there for Mariella, while a part of him wanted to teleport to the police station and confront the attackers directly.
He was a millennium-and-a-half-old vampire, their king, and they had attacked one of his. After a few deep breaths, tight focus kept his voice calm as he questioned May about exactly what had happened and what they were going to do. May had promised to send him a copy of the surveillance tape, as she had given the original to the police.
"That's it," Damon said. "No matter what the paramedics say, Mimi is not working next week, or the one after that. We will have to work. Adam and the boys will be home to help out, and I'll call the insurance company to see if the shop needs to be closed."
May replied, "Mom is livid; she was so close to losing it. The paramedics have just arrived, and we've given Sheila's son, Benjamin, our statement, so you can call him if you need anything more."
Damon's voice was tight as he responded, "Oh, I have plenty more. That damn pro-humanity trash movement...I swear, one more attack on us, and it's not going to be nice."
May continued, "Mom isn't sure if she has the energy to press all the possible charges, and Charles, our legal mind, is there, so we'll see."
Damon said, his voice silky smooth, dangerous, and laced with rage, "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that. I'm no slouch with legal matters myself, and I will make sure all the charges are pressed, and then some."
"Fine, you handle that," May replied. "Mom's planning to contact the insurance company herself, since it's still her business."
Damon countered, "I'm her legal and medical guardian. It's my responsibility to call them, not yours or hers. Make sure she's all right. She'll probably refuse to go to the hospital, but as soon as she's home, it's bed rest, monitoring, and food. Make sure she relaxes, watches movies, or something. I'll call Adam and the boys, see if they can get home sooner. I expect monitoring feeds on my phone as soon as possible and photos of her injuries."
May acknowledged her very irritated father's instructions. Now, the only question was getting her mom to obey them and hoping she was okay. She was pregnant, but the babies were viable. In the event of a premature birth, they'd be fine, though a vaginal delivery was out of the question, given the triple cerclage in place.
Damon ended the call and relayed the situation to the others. Even Mariella was furious. She wanted those thugs to suffer and wanted to ensure Mimi was alright. She had been distracted by envisioning their future, how they would raise kids together and share experiences. Now that those thugs had attacked her, she needed someone to protect Mimi immediately.
Charles had to exert considerable effort to compose himself, as he felt Mimi's pain, distress, and rage, as well as his own worry. Now he had to focus on being a protector and calming Mariella, whose blood pressure had just spiked. It was a tense situation that took a lot out of everyone.
Damon, along with the others, was left to worry and wait for the paramedics' report, as well as Mimi's monitoring feed. The situation made him feel utterly powerless. His mouth grew dry, his muscles tensed, and his telepathy flared, wrapping around Mimi's mind like a protective shield.
Unable to physically help her, he used their connection to absorb some of her rage, easing her burden and attempting to send her his pure love, not his own anger, which would only worsen her condition. It was not easy being married to two, and he had made a promise to be there for only one of them: Mariella. Now, however, his baby, Mimi, needed him, and he couldn't leave, especially as Mariella's babies reacted to her rising blood pressure and tension in this, the largest hospital in Minnesota.