"Shh, Mommy's got you. Easy does it. Let me put this on, just for the trip. See what we'll do at home, won't we?" I cooed to my baby, one of five, as I prepared them for the trip back home.
They were now immortals, or had been since Wednesday evening. Now, it was early Thursday morning, and we had the green light to go home. I hadn't dressed them in the preserved clothes I had saved, as the clothes were still too large for them, and they were so tiny.
My micropreemie clothes would swallow them whole, with their arms and legs slipping out of sleeves and cuffs. Instead, they were bundled in their onesies, a little mess of fabric, but comfortable. I had kept them wrapped up, as they liked it. The boys' frustration over not being able to nurse, despite smelling my milk, sometimes took over, making them cry out angrily. Even though they were small, they had personalities.
As I carefully bundled the small, rather crimson creature, still resting on the care station, she opened her eyes and gazed at me. Her curiosity was palpable, a feeling she somehow managed to convey to me. I knew her vision was likely still developing, unlike human babies.
However, she wasn't human; in fact, there wasn't a trace of human DNA in her. She was a brand new species, or perhaps a subspecies. I planned to test their DNA later to determine if they were distinct, related to my older girls, or even to Damon and me.
For now, though, this little creature was quickly becoming my entire world. The love I felt warmed me, filling my heart with joy. I knew I needed to share this with Wulfe and endure his inevitable frustration at missing this moment. He'd have his time, and he might eventually tire of them, but as I lifted my daughter, inhaling her delightful scent, I felt a sense of pure heaven.
It was wonderful and exciting, but also a little scary, to take care of these five little ones. I could hardly imagine them living with me in the future, learning to walk, talk, and play. Seeing what it is to be a mother, truly, is all about. And who knows, maybe there will be more.
I had a little stroller, or carrier, with me to accommodate these five. I was planning to call a cab to get home, but to my surprise, as I was wrapping up the second of my twins, a soft voice from the door said, "Oh my God, honey, those are tiny!"
I looked up and saw Demon and Lepard standing there. Those two were two of my many husbands, my soulmates as well. They had actual baby seats or carriers with them as they walked near. Leopard's large hand, with its long fingers, gently grazed the cheek of my son, causing him to turn his head as if seeking food.
"He's hungry," I said to Leopard. "He is once again hungry. This is it, boys; we have ourselves a little group of tyrants ordering us around for the time being."
Demon, having seen a bottle of milk, took it and warmed it with his magic. Then, he gently picked up my son and offered him the bottle. The baby latched on hungrily, his gentle sucking filling the air as I wrapped my girls and placed them into a carrier.
Lepard watched me, his voice soft as he said, "You know, we've read your medical notes. We know. So don't even try to pretend this is nothing. You will be cared for, and so will our babies. I'm not sure about names, though. Sadie is nice, but we can discuss that later." He paused, then added, "And you can be sure Wulfe isn't happy. We told him, but he can return by the end of the week."
I sighed inwardly. Lepard had found his balls, so to speak. He had always been tense, but not overly dominant. Well, things seemed to have changed, and I guessed it had everything to do with my five little ones.
There was nothing wrong with that, actually. I knew I was a jaguar, a loner, and it wasn't easy for me to accept help. But this time, compared to my very first litter of cubs, when Lepard was born, he was there for me, supporting me and keeping me in line. Otherwise, my instincts might have overcome me once again, as I lacked support. By the time Wulfe might get home, my instincts would have taken over.
But now, with Lepard and Demon supporting me, keeping me in line and also showing my feline side, I was not alone. Maybe things would be a little easier. Of course, this meant that my pheromones would bind them deeply with my babies, but I didn't see that as a bad thing, not at all, as five babies, preemies, meant I would need every lick of support I could get.
I knew that in time, when we took out Annaliese, I had shown Damon the real me, but then again, as I was a strong creature, I had done a few things to lessen those memories. Despite Wulfe's spell affecting my ability to influence men with my blood, I had also evolved, and my powers had modified a bit, too, lessening those memories. Why, one might ask?
As I bundled my tiny babies into the carrier, and the boys took my bags, not letting me carry anything, I had to admit to myself that I wanted to be strong, to be seen as strong. The few times Damon had looked at me in the past, seeing me as a victim or someone who had gone through too much, it had just made me feel weak, and I hated to feel weak. Now, with my babies, I was again at a crossroads.
I was strong, but then again, I was a mother. A slight warmth in my neck, a sensation from those two special scars left by my soulmates, evoked memories. Jake or Rob reminded me that I was a role model. What I did inspired others to follow my lead, and I wanted my babies, my children, to see me as a role model too. But what kind? Would I want them to feel accepted no matter what, or embrace their strength?
These were all questions that popped into my mind. These weren't just everyday questions about feeding schedules, nighttime wake-ups, or who was caring for the babies during the day – questions I'd discuss with even Damon. My ponderings reached beyond weeks or months; they stretched for years. I had been a mother to babies before, sure; they were small, changing nappies, soothing and feeding was nothing new to me, but actually raising a child, teaching them, being a parent - that was the part I had no experience with.
I recalled Apollo, one of my sons, who was telepathic and had seen my memories. I knew those were strong, too. Would my rotten past somehow influence them, and should I have Wulfe bind their powers as fast as possible? But then again, they were using them to explore the world, to connect with it. Should I create some kind of mental shelter?
Sure, Wulfe had removed a lot of the darkness from my mind, but there was still so much. Not all of it was overly dramatic, but seeing mommy killing or torturing baddies might give them the wrong ideas. I was supposed to be part of the community, a florist, a mother, not the leader of a semi-military resistance organization, an NSA agent, a sniper, a killer, a sadist.
Let's just say my mind was busily winding itself into knots, starting one more bout of my neurotic mess, as Adam and Charles had dubbed the actual abbreviation.
As we walked to the car, so many things were rolling around in my mind. I was hormonal, exhausted, elated, happy, and I was a mom.
I said to Lepard, "It will be my decision who will know, and when. I need time to get a grip on our relationship, and I need time to connect with these five and learn what it takes to care for them, but I need you two to do a little groundwork too."
Leopard grunted and asked, "Like what?"
I explained, "I will show you the pheromonal layering we'll use. First, I'll demonstrate the pheromones we apply near our wings. Then, I'll show you the others you'll emit near Damon and Mariella's nursery. This will ensure Mariella's maternal instincts remain strong until her hormones stabilize, allowing us to find peace and adapt to our new life. Now is not the time to listen to the ten Salvatores telling me what to do; let them tell Mariella. Let her have her husbands. However, numbers five, nine, and ten might sense me and attempt to involve themselves, but the decision is ultimately mine. You surely feel the same way; this will be our lair, our den, and these are our babies, regardless of who sired me."
Demon nodded in agreement. They carefully bundled the babies into the car and made sure I was comfortable before starting the drive home. The weather was still wintry and snowy, so keeping the babies warm was a priority. It was an intense time for all of us, but I was relieved the boys had gotten off work early, as all the extra hands would be sorely needed.
Upon arriving home, I was overwhelmed with emotion. At one point, I even doubted myself and questioned whether the babies should have stayed in the hospital longer. However, they were immortals.
Determining their immortality was relatively straightforward; it could be measured by a specific type of amino acid connected to fatty acids and a bit of extra oxygen, creating a truly unique molecule. It had taken scientists some time to discover it; it was a nasty facility that had originally found it.
I had been the one to leak the information to the doctors – Colin and his team, along with Samuel – who then studied it. And voilà! We had the immortality molecule. When present in the blood, it conferred immortality.
Of course, there was a long scientific explanation of how this molecule kept us from aging, but to put it simply, it was a broom, a vacuum cleaner, and a rejuvenator all in one. It erased all sickness, made our cells resistant to aging, and changed our immune systems. It was unique, and one could never get rid of it.
My immortality was woven throughout my body—from the marrow to the brain to the skin—and every part in between. Nasty scientists had surely tried to eliminate or exploit it, but its uniqueness made transferring immortality impossible.
But then, why do vampires die? Their molecules weren't perfect; they had weaknesses. Wooden stakes through the heart were too traumatic, but removing the heart would suffice if the molecules were weak enough. However, my immortality molecule was impossible to study. Nothing could wipe it out or break it; it was partially magical and divine.
Yet, hospitals had machines to detect these molecules in supernatural babies, allowing them to know of their immortality. This process began shortly after birth, as their bodies awoke when the connection via the placenta was severed, meaning the mothers' immortality no longer protected them.
As the car finally stopped in the yard, we entered through the back door, as it was closer to the elevator leading to our wing. I had no qualms about taking the wing for myself, even if someone might question it, since we were supposed to be family. Why isolate? My babies. They needed a safe place, free from infections. I needed my nest and my peace to act and care for them.
It would do no good to have Salvatore dictate this and that, then leave me in the lurch while Mariella whined. I had made it evident just how they had let me down. I had originally envisioned a different room for my nursery. I had my trusty folder with Salvatore's compiled pictures and information of all baby stuff, and I had made my selections.
But then, Mariella's preeclampsia and hospitalization interfered. That folder remained untouched in that room, left on a stand, the room in full disarray, with nothing done. So, with help from those who wanted to help me, I had created my nest elsewhere, ensuring my nursery would be as I wanted it.
In my official nursery, I had three care stations for my five babies. This arrangement allowed multiple people to care for the babies simultaneously. Now, in my own NICU, the setup was much simpler. It featured dim lighting, an abundance of comforting pheromones, a rocking chair, and plenty of love.
The babies rested in specially designed boxes with memory foam mattresses filled with jelly, to mimic the womb. Later, they would use a more standard mattress, but for now, they were too precious and vulnerable. I had taken specific precautions in caring for them, and Wulfe approved of my methods.
He had been reading my mind, or rather, absorbing information as quickly as I had. Although he was on a business trip and not physically present, I felt his rage, frustration, and burning desire to return home to our babies.
They were as much his as they were mine. As a creature of love, I knew my babies would be the same. They would have several father figures in their lives. While Mariella might only let her number one be called "Daddy" to her triplets, I had no such restrictions.
This was just the beginning, and I had no idea what the future held. Could I handle the terrible twos or threes? What about school? My work? And would Damon decide to keep me pregnant or caring for more babies? Could my nerves handle it? I had no idea, but for now, I was pacing myself, taking things one day at a time, waiting for these miniature versions of babies to reveal their true natures.
Only then would I know if I had five little gremlins or a collection of princesses and princes in my hands. I doubted it, given my own temper and the high probability of my rage being inherited. However, my four older girls hadn't turned out so bad, and they'd turned out just fine.