I sat in my sorting room, clear-minded but exhausted. The pregnancy had taken its toll, and my recovery from the drug had been difficult, once again decimating my willpower and leaving me in a state where I lacked control. In this dangerous state, I needed to be kept safe, loved, and rested. Several Salvatores had been helping me by minimizing stress and disturbances until I regained some control, so I wouldn't become a beast.
As I sat there, Charles was with me, moving sorted items to another part of the room and pouring new ones for me. I couldn't help but feel like a beast, despite what Wulfe and the Salvatores had been telling me. They said that if I saw "number one," I should just react and let it all out. They felt it was time for him to realize the truth, but I had little hope that he would.
"Honey, we need bigger special towers, can you get those next for me?" Charles asked.
The girls had been sending him the shop's needs via the hive, both for our online and occult shops, and certain items were in high demand. Charles's awkward explanation for "bigger special towers" meant bigger cocks: stone dildos, or penises, whichever you prefer. They were very anatomically correct, perhaps a bit exaggerated, but they were one of our biggest sellers online and in the shop. Of course, no one would show them to kids if they wandered in, but customers might ask for "big special towers."
They had also created a few games in the online shop, requiring many different categories. This kept me busy, sorting teardrops, wands, points, carvings, bracelets, rings, and pendants crafted by the Salvatores, and pendulums. There were many more categories, and it was a good business. Money was needed, and I knew that despite all of this, we wouldn't get rich anytime soon.
As I sat in bed, the softness of the mattress cradling me, my fingers reached for another stone. The familiar coldness and weight of it registered, and even before I saw it, I recognized the faint, dusty scent tinged with Arabic gum. This was amethyst. My sense of smell was remarkably keen, allowing me to identify stones just by their aroma.
Charles asked, "Oh, is that agate?"
"Nope, pink amethyst," I replied. "Use your nose. Smell the Arabic gum, or learn to see the difference. Agates smell like flowers, amethysts are more like baking stuff – at least, that's how my brain interprets them."
He nodded, then added, "You can name them. Just put a label on it; that's a big piece. It might be sold separately, but Wulfe will see them first, of course."
We had printed labels now; no one wanted me handwriting them. The girls handled printing them onto stickers, and I simply applied them. It was almost comical how my hobby with stones and crystals had taken over the whole pack, more or less. Several of the Salvatores were involved, making rings and pendants or learning about the stones alongside me. The girls managed orders and the kids. Adam, Charles, Lepard, and Demon kept watch over me.
Mariella and Number One were quite close, from what I'd heard, but it was expected. After all, it was the second week of December, and she was 30 weeks or more along, while I was only about 24 weeks myself. However, I had a feeling my pregnancy would last longer this time, giving me more time.
I suspected that Number One's patience would eventually wear thin, and he might operate on Mariella. While gestational diabetes wasn't as dangerous as preeclampsia, it was what it was, and not my concern. I would be fine, or at least I hoped so. I hadn't spent much time around kids, as they were everywhere, and my guys were protective.
Mariella had seen us a few times, and the jealousy on her face was obvious, even though she was also a bloated whale. However, I was larger, even though I was less pregnant. My body just knew how to provide and make everything as good as possible for the babies.
Of course, she was jealous of my feeding, and I'd heard her ask one of Salvatore's about my glucose levels at least five times. Mine were low, while hers were sky high; it was simply how her body functioned, just biology.
Wulfe walked in as Charles left to carry several full boxes to the girls or wherever they stored the stones. Wulfe flopped onto the bed beside me and began sorting stones with me, commenting on their colors. He was also involved in our online shop, crafting descriptions and performing minor spells, or charging stones with energies.
I picked up a handful of smaller pebbles; they weren't chips but rather rounder, oddly shaped, and not quite beads.
I pondered their use and said, "Do you remember the spoons I made for the kids? We could craft something similar with these. I mean, a metal spoon, carved or patterned, with this attached on top. It could work."
He selected some items and declared, "That's a good idea, but have you done more wire wrapping? May was just asking because that particular pendant style sells very well."
I furrowed my brows and responded, "I have projects in the works. I was planning on doing that this evening, but you need to be a little more specific for me to understand the desired form."
Wulfe's youthful face slightly frowned as he processed the information, searching for the right words to accurately describe the style. My memory, which retained everything, needed precision; when someone asked me something specific, it had to be spot-on for me to understand.
"Uhm, it was bronze-colored, with wing-like flares and a crown-like element on top. The center had a large stone, and the wings featured several smaller stones encased in spirals."
Fine. I had already come up with at least five different designs based on those specifications, and now it was my turn to try and eliminate or pinpoint the correct one.
However, Wulfe beat me to it as the door opened and May walked in. "Hi, Mom! Here's the design. I was wondering if we could have it in other colors too."
She handed me her tablet, and I studied the design.
I sighed, rolled my eyes, and asked her, "Sure, I have a few starters ready. Would you like them in a single color or multicolored? And bronze wire?"
Wulfe interjected, "Let's use different kinds of wires. You have colored ones, right? And I can choose the stones to be used."
I replied to Wulfe, trying to keep my voice calm, though my temper was flaring as usual, "First, I was asking for May's opinion, not yours. Second, open your eyes; this isn't a winged design but a tulip; those are leaves, and your so-called crown is the flower. I mean, it's kind of obvious."
He looked at it, tilted his head, and said, "Well, yeah, now that you say it. But it might be a good idea to give them designations or names so we all know what's needed. And yeah, my unicorn, you didn't ask me, but I told you anyway; that's called conversation."
I snapped at him, "I call that butting in."
He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes narrowing, and I could almost imagine him counting to ten before attempting to speak. Oh, he, too, had issues with his temper.
As he was about to speak, the door opened, and Number One and Five entered. Five immediately came to me, helped me to stand, and kissed me with a rough intensity. Our lips crashed together; he bit my lip and invaded my mouth. I explored his hot mouth, my tongue eagerly tasting his breath and nipping at his lips, tasting the beads of blood. The kiss was amazing, almost breathtaking. However, he was possessive and enjoyed flaunting it in Number One's face.
He helped me sit and said, "Baby, I'm here to learn more about these stones and also to make sure you're not getting too inspired by them."
I rolled my eyes, smiled at him, and replied, "I'm a bit too large to put anything in my pussy right now, so don't worry."
"Baby, I think we need to talk," Number one said. "I mean, I... I apologize for the whole drugging thing. I got it wrong, and then, clinically, I didn't. You kept quiet, and I understand you might be pissed off, but I think we should clear the air."
I took a breath, and Number Five sat next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"Okay, remember, react. Go on, let it all out," he said.
I muttered, "It's going to be nasty; it really will be because I don't need much of a filter right now." He nodded.
Number One, appearing anxious, interjected, "Oh, do you need emotional support to talk to your damn husband?"
His voice dripped with sarcasm, and I snapped back, "You must hate me, right? I mean, let's face it, you told me that to my face after the stunt with the drugs."
Damon, Number One, furrowed his brow and said, "Well, that's unreasonable. I did it on a medical basis..."
"Don't lie to me!" I snapped, my temper flaring. My hands clenched into fists, and I took deep, rapid breaths as rage consumed me. Number Five tightened his grip on me, even that slight pressure infuriating me. I shook his hand off, stood up, and waddled towards Number One.
"Once again, I was a fool," I said to him, my voice dripping with scorn. "An utter, stupid fool. I thought we had something, that there was actually something between us. You asking about my interrogation, wanting to learn, wanting to spend time with me... but no. Fuck off. I should have known better. You're nothing but Mariella's little pussy-slave, nothing more. Sure, you can be the pack leader, but it's not innate for you, and you're certainly no alpha male!"
I had warned him, and I was being nasty on purpose. I knew how to push his buttons, and he was such a receptive victim.
His nostrils flared, and his hands tightened as he fixed his icy gaze on me. "Listen to me, you hormonal..."
SLAP!
My hand connected with his right cheek, snapping his head violently to the side. He slowly raised his hand, wiped a bead of blood from his lip, and snarled.
I hissed, "I just said, don't lie to me! In no way, in no scenario, would you have done this to Mariella. No medical reason, nothing in the world would have gotten you to do this to her. The ease with which you did it to me, closing your eyes, the hive, burying your goddamn head in the sand again... that tells me a fucking lot about our relationship."
Number one spat, "You expect me to be perfect for you, yet you put in no effort for me! At least Mariella understands my needs!"
I was ready to beat him up, pregnancy be damned. I retorted, "Don't you get it, you idiot? You could never put Mariella through what she hates, fears, and despises most—medically or otherwise. But for me? No hesitation, none! Even you, a strong telepath, know exactly how awful it is for me. So you must hate me, fear me, or see me as an enemy. And you are no alpha male. You are, first and foremost, a vampire, and as such, I, a powerful creature who can stop you in your tracks, am the enemy, a threat. And how do vampires deal with threats? By eliminating them or neutralizing them, making me weak and vulnerable. That's not how an alpha male acts. There are alpha males in this room, and you, you fucking idiot, are not one of them. You are not one who gets physically ill when I am ill, when I am distressed, just because he is attuned to me, to my pheromones, my distress. He is one who comes to me, helps me, keeps me safe, makes sure I am safe. A true threat would be when your little cocktail went haywire, as usual, in my body, or others, when my willpower was gone, again, a loaded gun here."
Number one's hands relaxed, and his expression turned neutral. He gulped once. I waited, anticipating him turning and walking away. I had hit him where it hurt, and I had hit hard. He was too weak to take it.
But number five was anxious, too. He came to me and wrapped himself around me, as if to comfort and care for me, and it felt odd. I was literally fuming, and now he was protecting me, trying to help me. Something was digging in my skull, an idea, but I couldn't quite grasp it. What the fuck?
Number five, guiding me to the bed, murmured something.
Number one, however, was already sneering behind me. "Oh, he's your hero, is he? Flavor of the month, is that it? Is this what our marriage has become, you choosing everyone else but me? Flaunting them in front of me, disrespecting me, not talking to me, not even fucking telling me I was wrong when I had the chance to do something about it. But, oh no, you had to turn yourself into a martyr, a victim, making me feel like shit for how I treated you. And sure, I was wrong. I've said it many times, and I admit, I do see you as a threat sometimes. I just can't help it, but you can't put this all on me, not at all."
I sat down. I grabbed the first stone I could find, feeling its silky, cool texture in my hand. It was neither rough nor too sharp, and a slightly summery aroma told me it was selenite. I took a breath, feeling my anger lessen and my mind somehow clarify.
Wulfe sat down beside me as well. Again, an idea was trying to surface. As Wulfe settled, the mattress dipped, and in one basket, smaller balls rolled, forming a circle. Could it be? Number five was still very anxious, wanting to care for me. Even though he was very attached to me, this was a bit odd. Wulfe, too, remained close by.
"Damon, can you put hints in your blood, or alter its taste or power?" I suddenly asked, shifting my focus to the matter at hand.
If my theory were correct, it would explain his behavior, and that of the others, much more clearly.
He replied, "Well, not that much. I've tried a bit, but since it's innate to you, and you've never told me how, I'm not very good at it. Why?"
I smirked. "I have a theory, and no, it doesn't excuse you from being a complete idiot, but it does explain this less-than-delightful merry-go-round you all have with Mariella and me."
Wulfe urged, "Tell me. I'm interested. What is this theory of yours?"
I continued, "Damon did get some of my powers, but in a different form. You see, I can manipulate blood, ironically making me more vampiric than him, as he's more of an energy creature, a lust wizard. This means he can manipulate magic and energies, so he's infected Salvatore's energy with his worry over Mariella. That's why Number Five is clinging to me, as he's taken me as his own, and Number One is poisoning himself with this energy, making him react instead of thinking things through. Now, this stone... Number Five, let me show you."
I handed him the wand, a white, slightly opaque, silky sheen selenite wand.
"Hold it from both ends," I instructed. "Now, let your Salvatore energy flow out from your left hand into the wand, use it as a conduit, and into your right."
He furrowed his brow, while Number One watched me even more skeptically, as he never liked feeling guilty, and it always made him snap violently. A few minutes passed, and the wand had lost some of its sheen, looking a bit dirty. Number Five looked at me with a sharper gaze, much sharper now, causing Number One to raise his brow.
Wulfe walked to a large box filled with unsorted crystals and found a long piece of selenite, a bracelet bracket.
He handed it to Number One, instructing, "Do the same, show us Mimi was wrong; in with the left, and out to the right."
Number One took the bracket and held it, rolling his eyes as he channeled his Salvatore energy into the wand. Five minutes later, he was cursing under his breath. The wand had lost some of its sheen, but Number One was still holding it.
"We need more," he said, "We have to clean all of our energy. I can feel all kinds of impurities, not just from feelings but from experiences, and I need to learn how the hell to do this." He looked at me expectantly.
"I have no idea," I replied. "I just winged it, did it instinctively, so I have no clue. I can try to let you feel it, but then again, I am working with blood, not energies."
Wulfe nodded and muttered, "Fine. It seems Mimi works with blood, Damon works with energies, and I work with magic, so we can all affect something, and we've just learned how to do it."
Irritated, as my hormones surged once again, I snapped, "I already know, so you can lose me from your idea of first class."
Wulfe's mouth tightened. My attitude did not make me very friendly, and I was pissed off most of the time.
I was focused on sorting my crystals, ignoring the glaring presence of Number One. Meanwhile, Wulfe was pondering the purification process and potion-making.
Number Five approached, his voice tight as he announced, "This now! All selenite goes in one basket. We need them, so everything goes straight to us."
His controlling tone grated on me. My hormones made me poorly receptive to commands, meaning I often disobeyed anyone telling me what to do.
So, I replied, "You are not the pack leader, there's no need for me to obey you."
Wulfe sighed, "For God's sake, Mimi, just do it. You don't need to flex your powers every time someone asks you to do something."
I rolled my eyes, retorting, "It bothers you, doesn't it, that someone isn't automatically afraid of you or obeys you, but has the guts to say no? It's a blow to your old, dusty ego."
Number One, deceptively calm, said, "Baby, I am the pack leader, and I say the selenite goes in one basket. Please, the pack needs it. If you could kindly ensure we can purify ourselves, then you can continue your hormonal rampage, which isn't getting any better."
I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath, "And whose fault is that? Who's the one who knocked me up, so don't blame this on me."
He took a breath. Number Five stood up, walked to a large box, and grabbed an empty basket, quickly gathering as many selenite items as he could find. Meanwhile, Wulfe modified a spell that Charles had created, so the selenite would automatically go into one basket and be transported away.
Of course, my surging hormones took this as a personal insult. I stood up and said, "Go on, have it your way, sort them yourself. I'm off to do something else, and I'm not having any company."
I walked – or rather, waddled – to my craft room, intending to do my wire wrapping. I was still pissed off, tired, and cranky. My heart seemed to be working overtime, my breath was shallow, and my body felt incredibly heavy. Ironically, I felt so damn lonely, like no one would understand me. All I wanted was to go into hiding, tinker with something, and hope my mind would settle down at some point. But would it be that easy, even for me?