It was Saturday morning, and I was in one of the cold storage rooms to cut meat. Like any meat locker you see on TV, this one had white walls and was full of meat. At least twenty carcasses had been chopped into primals, so I had my work cut out for me. I had already made a small start on one carcass, with a few prepared pieces on the table ready for packaging.
Surely, I could have spent my morning doing something else, but I was feeling perky after a long and devoted night with Number Five. He had determinedly filled me up with his "bump" all night long, ensuring I'd be good to go until my next meal. He had also made my morning smoothie, having optimized the recipe I'd shown him. It seemed to be a very big deal for him, as he hadn't fed me so much before, and now he could fulfill this need to care for me.
I let my very sharp knife slide through meat and sinew as I cut and trimmed steaks, cuts, and roasts, preparing them for use. I also removed the bones, placing them in their box, while the trimmings went into their container to be used as is, as ground meat, or as part of something else, like sausages. We hadn't made many sausages yet, but it could be nice.
Outside, it was quite wintry, with snow falling as I had my breakfast. However, this locker was inside the house, so I didn't need to put on more clothes. I had my warm angora undershirt and a light cotton shirt on top, nice, slightly thicker jeans with a warm lining, and my slippers—no socks.
My hair was stylishly arranged around my head by Number Five again; he had discovered how much fun doing hair is, and the girls had had their share of his enthusiasm. Let's just say every girl now has long hair.
Mariella and Number Two had been in the sauna with us and had been naughty. They had wanted to get cleaning supplies and had gone to clean up the mating wing after the sauna. I won't go into all the details, but it seemed they were pretty damn over just having a "sex holiday."
The snakes had been a big success, but our newest problem was Mariella, who didn't want to sell them. She loved them and wanted to keep everyone. We tried to explain how many more were coming, and I hoped she might see the bigger picture in time. She had gently picked up our huge python and wrapped it around herself, kissing the poor snake.
She also wanted to have bigger places for them, which might be possible in time, but we were selling them, not keeping them all. It might create some issues along the way if she kept this up.
I was in the process of preparing a large piece of dry-aged beef, cutting it into various portions. I was unsure of the specific cuts to make when I heard the door open. This wasn't unusual, as I had been working for two hours and had several cuts of meat ready. It was likely the girls arriving to package my work and perhaps to request specific cuts, such as tomahawks or oversized caveman steaks.
I had also set aside deer meat for jerky, which I planned to chop for Charles, who would then season and dry it. As I reached for a longer knife to separate the arm from the forequarter, a hand suddenly clamped over my wrist.
The strong, hot body of Number One pressed against my back as he hissed, "Again? I have tried to teach you, little girl, that you are not supposed to play with big knives. What is the deal, pack leader?"
Mariella sheepishly interjected, "They know. They asked the right questions, so everyone knows. And let's just say the kitchen is quite full."
Before I could react, Number One yanked my head to the side and sank his teeth into my throat, drinking my blood.
After a few minutes, he stopped, removing his fangs, and said, "Ella, come and taste. See if you can get anything. Wulfe said that damn potion will take time, and these ones are strong."
Mariella then came forward and greedily drank my blood.
After consuming about 35 liters, she finally removed her fangs and exclaimed, "Wow, oh my god, you are tasty! Yeah, those are strong ones. My rescue radar is taking a bit of time…".
Damon was dressed casually in a black tee shirt and jeans, while Mariella had opted for a satin shirt and, surprisingly, silk pants. Her hair was still piled up in a bun, and she wore makeup, but something seemed different, or perhaps it was just the chilly air.
It was less warm inside, as no magic bubble prevented the wind from cooling the house. Despite the insulation, the place felt quite cold.
I stated, "Well, I need to continue my work, as this is my part of the job. The girls will come in and package, label, and weigh these cuts once I'm done."
Damon replied, "Baby, we know. We are aware that there are many more meatcutters now than you."
He was clearly testing my position as pack leader, exerting his alpha power. I quirked an eyebrow, rolled my eyes, and then put down my knife. I proceeded to show them a few tasks that they or others could do, emphasizing that there was always something to be done.
I replied, "Fine. Come on, let's get you some jobs; we have plenty here."
He furrowed his brow, and Mariella shrugged, indicating she had no idea either. As pack leader, I was simply demonstrating to my pack members how things were done, emphasizing that we would have to do this as a pack, as a family, with no shortcuts this time.
We walked out of the meat locker, and I pointed out, "There are jackets and boots for outside; it had been snowing a bit."
After putting on our clothes, we headed outside, followed by several Savatores—at least three, six, nine, and ten. I led them to our wood warehouse across the yard, about 50 feet away in the courtyard, meaning a short walk in the snow to get there.
The space was large and smelled of wood, and an impressive collection of axes hung on the walls; several large logs were available for chopping.
Gesturing to encompass the entire storage area, I explained, "Now, as you can see, we have big logs here. They're too big for our fireplaces, but they are dry and need to be chopped. I suspect we'll need a lot of wood as the air gets colder. Without magic barriers, chopping wood is essential. Another task is hauling it in, or closer; we have storage spaces nearby inside. Still, moving the wood takes time, so it would be better to fill our storage up before too much snow accumulates, because trudging through snow while hauling wood isn't fun, although I suspect we might have to do it, too. Surely you can use spells or energy to melt the snow, but it's taxing. And then you need to make sure Mariella gets her maternity appointment, possible paperwork, and insurance, what your jobs will give you; I have no fucking idea. So, this is one job; take it or leave it. The boys have tried to haul wood, but since Leopard is the only one who's been around, he's been the driver and caretaker and hasn't had much time."
Damon nodded and asked, "Fine, what else?"
Nine and ten began chopping logs, while three and six were piling them with a spell, causing the wood to levitate in the air, so I let them continue. As we walked out, the snowy yard was pristine and white, marked only by our footprints, which the gentle snowfall would soon cover.
I led Damon and Mariella to another meat locker filled with whole carcasses. "These need to be chopped into primal cuts, and the organs need to be removed. There's a spell preventing them from spoiling." I explained. "I can handle the primal cuts from here. We also have bones that need to be ground, as well as the organs." Indicating a trash chute, I added, "The large intestine, gallbladder, and other non-edible parts go in there. Here we have wagyu, kobe, pork, game, and birds. The girls are pretty good at breaking down the birds."
Damon nodded in acknowledgment. Just then, more Salvatores walked in, ready to start chopping. Numbers two, four, and seven were already beginning to haul carcasses and open them up.
As I walked out, Damon asked, "And then what?"
I turned to Mariella. "Did you tell him about our pets?"
She nodded. "Fine," I continued, "weekends are usually snake care days. That means we feed them, check them, and bathe them if needed. It's time-consuming, so I call the girls in to assist us. They'll show you what to do while I check the eggs and record the results. If you find shed skin, don't throw it away; I'll show you how to load it into the machine. These are older snakes, so they only shed once or twice a year, meaning it's unlikely they'll shed several times in weeks. The babies will be different."
I paused. "We'll start with the snakes in the afternoon. In the meantime, you two can find something to do, pester Lepard, or read your dossiers. I'm going to chop some meat; it's my zen activity. The girls will be in soon to bother me about exotic cuts."
Damon responded, "We'll come in too. There's a lot of chopping to do, and Mariella can help once the girls show her how to label and package. I'll also make sure my baby mama doesn't cut herself."
I was silent, thinking, *Surely he wasn't moping like number two, but come on, 'baby mama!"* I rolled my eyes and we left. I shared this with Wulfe, and he found it hilarious, laughing out loud in my mind. For him, "baby mama" was comedy gold.
He told me, "Oh, please, once I get to tell Damon about your finances, let's see what kind of burdock you have then."
I retorted, "My love, if you love me, keep your trap shut. This is irritating enough as it is; I don't need him trying to micromanage my business. He's trying to provoke me, testing my leadership. I can feel it, and I was hoping for a nice weekend."
Wulfe continued chuckling in my mind. It was certainly handy having a telepathic connection to everyone, but still...
As we walked back to the meat locker, I washed my hands after removing my outer garments. Despite the cool temperature, I was comfortable in the space, as my angora shirt kept me sufficiently warm.
Mariella then asked, "How far along are we?"
I replied, "About eight weeks, I guess, but I have my first scan after Thanksgiving, then I see my five."
Damon chimed in, "We will see, baby. I will make sure I'm there for your scan at my workplace. It will be official, no arguments."
I simply rolled my eyes.
Mariella smiled slightly, prompting Damon to add, "And you too, darling, you will have your scan there as well. As soon as I have some idea of paternity and my insurance, we'll make sure the paperwork is in order. I can get some benefits from Italy, and I guess you two get yours."
"I will get maternity leave, maybe nine months, a year as well as maternity packs for each baby and child benefits until they are 18," I said.
Mariella rolled her eyes and responded, "Wow, I am not quite sure what I can get, but I guess I have time to find out. It will be something this whole pregnancy. Nine freaking months, I can't promise that I will behave perfectly."
I smiled, adding, "Me either. I have no fucking clue about my hormones or other problems having five babies inside me for fucking nine months."
Focusing on the meat, I noticed Mariella walked near me.
"What are you cutting here?" she asked.
"Loins," I replied. "I'm deboning this one as much as possible so it can be used in rolled meats. I'm leaving a good amount of fat but removing the bones, which go in here. Then they are tossed into one of our smokehouses and ground later on. Usually, Adam does that; he will be home by Monday, but he needs to rest. Charles will be in on Thursday, but it will only be half a week, and he will be home two weeks after Thanksgiving. Adam will be home a week, so we have more people in."
Mariella nodded, carefully observing what I was doing, as was Damon.
Wanting some peace to work, I said to Damon, "See, there is one whole beef waiting to be broken down into primal cuts on that table. Take Mariella and teach her basic cutting, as this is something we all will be doing in some time."
Damon asked, "Really, babe, you want to get rid of me?"
I rolled my eyes and said, "Go, work. Don't hassle me, but be useful. This is dry-aged, so it is tougher than normal meat. When the girls come in, they might start to test you, meaning give you exotic cuts and see if you have any idea how they are made."
Damon simply rolled his eyes before moving to another table and beginning to teach Mariella. He was usually a good teacher, but he was moving too fast, and Mariella wasn't grasping everything immediately, so he had to repeat himself often, which was good for him.
Meanwhile, I chopped my pieces and placed them on the table to await the girls' arrival. Then, I retrieved my next primal cut—ugh, the hind part, which wasn't so easy to debone, but doable. I started working, and soon I heard eager chatting as the girls, Wulfe, Lepard, and Number Five walked in.
The girls were eager to start working, and Damon had already chopped something. They began showing him how to place the pieces on the table for labeling and packing, which drew Mariella in, as this seemed much more fun for her than watching Damon try to teach her something he didn't seem to want to teach in the first place.
With Number One and Five now present, there was some tension in the air, especially when Five came to me and kissed me very passionately. Number One was less happy about it, but then Lepard took him away, as our bisons were ready.
There were fifteen huge carcasses, dry-aged and needing to be chopped into primal, in addition to dealing with the organs, which had been kept cold but not yet sorted or packaged. Lepard began sorting them into portions for the girls to process, and Number One soon joined in with his own ideas.
I was just getting into the swing of things when May came to me. "Mom, could we have a barbecue tomorrow, with good old tomahawk steaks or something?"
I rolled my eyes. "We have meals ready; no need."
But Damon said, "Sure thing, what do you want, my girl, bison or beef?"
"Oh, Daddy, you're the best! Mom can be so boring sometimes."
This prompted another eye roll from me. I sighed, and Charles chuckled in my mind as I asked him if I should assert my pack leader status.
"No, honey, that's family life. No need for you to be the leader now. You get to be the boring mom while Damon is the cool dad. Welcome to family life."
"Fine then," I thought.
I asked, "Does everyone want beef or bison, or do I need to get some pork too?"
Rose and Ashley chimed in, "Oh yeah, pork sounds fine too, if you can get us big steaks or roasts!"
I shrugged and moved into the storage area, carrying out half of a Mangalitsa pig, which was very fatty, and placed it on the table, starting to chop it up.
Damon, of course, glanced at me, and soon Number Five came to me. "Let me chop it, baby. You continue your normal work; we boys will get tomorrow's barbecue ready."
He robbed my project and nearly reached number one with it, as if I had any say in the matter. Afterward, those two seemed to bond again, perhaps even scheming against me. Though I couldn't be sure, who knows what the future holds? Would it become a battle of the sexes, or something else entirely?
In the meantime, I took a loin of normal pork and began to debone it. I was planning to make a roll or roast, something a little different from the usual pork chops. As I worked, Lepard approached and began offering suggestions, also questioning my choices, like why I was trimming the fat here and there.
Soon, I realized that the time before Charles came home might make me very nervous. Salvatore was once again finding his confidence, noticing all the perks of this lifestyle, and perhaps wanting to be top dog once more. The scary thing was, he was a good talker and could probably get Charles on board quickly, as well as other men.
There was absolutely nothing I could do. All that remained was to go with the flow and see what happened. Maybe he'd be happy not being the pack leader, letting Charles take the role and just focusing on his job. But then again, I knew him well enough to know that wasn't really his style. And I wasn't even sure if he would go to work next week or just after Thanksgiving. The future was not mine to see; it was simply a case of "que sera, que sera."