As breakfast progressed, the older girls directed the toddlers to deliver food to the babies, and they were so eager. Damon, however, was a bit overwhelmed by the chaotic situation. It was new to him to see eager toddlers helping out, but he was trying to go with the flow.
Meanwhile, I was preparing my own breakfast. I had a nice collection of tri-tips ready to be grilled, as well as salted salmon, and a ground meat sauce made from Wagyu, which I truly enjoyed. I also had salty waffles, mozzarella, and ham, while Number Two was making my smoothies.
"Baby, what are you planning here?" Number One asked, having just gotten the toddlers to eat and now seeing me frying my meats and waffles.
"My breakfast, what else? I have tri-tips, waffles, sauces, and Number Two is making my smoothies. I also have my salmon. You need some iron; your stores are getting low because you've dumped a lot into your bump. I guess it's some kind of reaction to calm Mariella's vampire side," I replied.
He grunted, picked up one of my tri-tips, chewed on it, and said, "Move over, lemme make the rest for you. You need more, and no waffles. Your gut isn't getting blocked on my watch, missy."
He coldly pushed me aside and turned my meats, grunting softly. Soon, Number Eight brought him a tray full of pre-cut meats from the fridge, which I had prepared for our tortilla meal.
However, once again, I had to adjust and not get too flustered by this damn, overzealous, arrogant bastard whose favorite pastime was telling me what was wrong with my diet. I'm usually in a lazy mood in the mornings, and this would have been enough, but fine. Since he wants to cook, let him.
After breakfast, I felt sluggish, but I knew my tortilla meal was easy to prepare. Since I was already logged into the kitchen, I could take things a bit easier, without needing to flit around in eight different places simultaneously.
All I had to do was make a plan, recruit certain helpers, and the meals would almost make themselves, as I was good at managing my household. Yes, this was still my household.
I said to Wulfe, "My love, we need to check what we already have for dinner. And since it's tasting day, we also need to make tasting plates. Any ideas?"
He rubbed his ear and replied, "I was thinking, since we have seafood, we could include more of it. We could also have yak, bear, and small game again. For vegetables and fruits, how about something zingy and fresh, like a salad with avocados, lime, papaya, figs, oranges, and red grapes?"
I nodded. Feeding the babies was easier; we had prepared many suitable meals, and each of us who had been in the kitchen offered options. However, number one was still loitering around while the girls were getting toddlers dressed after their clothes had been chosen.
This was quite a production, especially since number one had chosen outfits with me, and I had to explain to him who liked what and why I was making certain choices. He also asked why I didn't let them all choose clothes at the same time. Well, it's simple: to avoid jealousy or drama. They were excellent at getting jealous of each other and would start crying if they saw their sister take an item they might have wanted.
This approach made things easier, without any fuss, and allowed things to move forward. But now, this damn pack leader was pestering me, and I wasn't in the mood for his overbearing dominance games. So, I was trying to come up with something for him to get his hands on.
"Are you going to take the toddlers downstairs?" I asked innocently, hoping to remind him of his plans.
However, he simply replied, "Later, maybe. What are you planning for today besides cooking? I can tell you have pretty much everything in hand, and the only times things might get hectic are mealtimes, so you have free time on your hands."
I answered, "Nothing much, I'll take it easy. I have a timetable and I know what to do and when, so yeah, I'm not running around like a headless chicken today. I'll just enjoy my life, as they say, kids take time."
He nodded, looking a bit puzzled.
Then Wulfe said to me, "How about, my love, if we watched a few cooking shows, since we have time? Or we could check on the crystals and what you're planning to create."
Wulfe was very keen to spend time with me, and it made Damon think. I could see it.
He said out loud, "Actually, I have something for the two of you, and for me. We need to hash it out, but I have to do it first. I'll get back to it as soon as I'm done."
Wulfe glanced at me, as if he had no idea what Damon was referring to. Frankly, neither did I. Well, let's see what he's come up with this time, shall we? Damon, for one, was the most unpredictable of all the Salvatores, or maybe I just hadn't gotten that good at mind-reading him as I had with the others.
Mariella walked in then, having returned after watching the children and helping them dress. She too was a bit unsure about what this whole situation was about. And Wulfe, being possessive over me, well, it wasn't that abnormal, but he was quite protective. I guess he wanted to make sure Damon didn't explode at me or dig up some old issues.
When it came to Wulfe's motives, they were always a bit hard for me to predict, as he truly could surprise me from time to time. And as we had gotten more and more time together, he became more and more possessive of me, wanting to spend time with me, only with me. He was even quite good at getting Charles out of the way. He was my other half, my truest soulmate, and we had a connection like no other.
Mariella turned to me and said, "Mimi, I heard the Salvatores were talking about your little game, the one where you assign roles and try to stump each other. However, I'd like something a bit more. I want you to interrogate me, roughly. Hurt me."
Wulfe grunted, and Damon raised an eyebrow, looking at Mariella. I kept my expression neutral.
"Sure, I could do that," I thought, picturing myself breaking Mariella with relative ease. But why did she want this?
Damon drawled softly, his predatory side stirring, a side that relished hurting even Mariella. I could feel it through our bond, which had intensified after our recent rough session in bed, wildly fucking. It felt as if I were experiencing his emotions, which was irritating, as I felt a loss of control.
"Darlin', you sure? I can work you over, too," he offered.
"Nope," Mariella replied. "I want Mimi to work me over. I want to experience what she can do. You, mister," she addressed Damon, "you have rage issues. You're too easy for me to rile up. When I get your rage going, your reason flies out the window, and it's over. No, I want a pro to work me over."
Wulfe nodded slightly at me.
I finally spoke, "Fine. Let's see when I have time. You want to find your secret and give me a hint, but I'm not going to tell you when it will happen, as that's part of the surprise."
My voice was calm, but my analytical mind was already busy crafting a role, selecting a suitable space, and considering what I could use on her: a few dental solutions what I made in my sinuses as I was a special kind of vampire, well, we all were more or less, some instruments, and a healthy dose of my patented creepiness.
I added, "I'll work on you as Mimi, and you'll be Mariella. This isn't a drill, per se, but we are who we are, so prepare. I will break you and make you spill your secret quite easily."
Wulfe smiled, clearly enjoying seeing me in action. He was already busy implanting more spells in my mind to keep my darkness locked away and suppress my killer instinct.
Then, I said aloud, "Did you know that while we were imprisoned, that damn doctor was scanning my neural mapping, trying to find my breaking point? I showed him my dark pleasure."
Immediately, both Damon and Wulfe focused on that memory, either wiping it away or locking it down. Damon snatched away every hint of the pleasure I had felt when imagining killing and torturing.
Mariella said, "Oh, really? He was not a nice guy, and I am sure Mimosa and the others will have a blast with him."
Mariella grimaced as Wulfe did something to her mind as well, seemingly suppressing her dark side. This meant there were no more ideas for torturing or enjoying killing; instead, we both were protected and loved, which, as irritating as it was at times, left us safe.
Damon, in a surprisingly calm voice that nonetheless surprised me, spoke aloud: "Baby, I am first in line when you need to give the girls lessons on pleasuring men. I know Adam was pretty well emptied, but neither number four nor I have found where his 'bump' ended up. Wanna share? It's a pretty important resource for us, and since you've collected three whole tankfuls, I would appreciate it if you would hand those over as well. What other stuff do you have in your hidey-hole?"
Wulfe looked at me sharply. He, too, had learned just how useful the 'bump' was, and my hoarding it was not something he liked, as he was a pack animal at heart and wanted the 'bumps' to be processed and logged in our medical system. Bump is a kind of male milk, a liquid food that males produce in a special sac in their abdomen and during sex, ejaculate it into females, nourishing them.
I rolled my eyes and began to explain, "I have a storage room with donations from Magnum, Colin, and others as well, as Colin gave them drops so they would produce 'bump'. I am not sure if it is permanent, as their DNA is changing, and their species too, but according to Colin..."
Damon snapped at me mid-explanation, "Colin this and Colin that! When will you learn he is not the pack leader? Charles is, as I am. I need those! No, I need access to that storage right fucking now, and I will make sure everything is logged, as I said. Toddlers could use a boost as well. And for you, Missy, stop hoarding stuff that can be useful for us too, no matter what the damn Ferrell has said to you!"
He was clearly pissed off, but again, from a medical point of view, he was partially correct. I just hadn't realized those tanks would be that important. Then again, as Damon was somewhat of a genius when it came to refining the 'bump' and its properties, his reaction was anticipated. And since we had gotten sick more than once, or at least I had, he knew just how bad things could get for me.
"It's in the West Wing, the cellar floor, the very bottom level," I explained. "I can take you there later. By the way, I just read last week that there's a new strain of meningitis for supernatural children. They have a vaccine for it, but have you heard anything about it?"
Damon furrowed his brow. "No, I haven't. I'll look into it. And I think it would be better if we could get our own vaccine developed rather than relying on commercial ones. Did SUMAC leave you any information?"
I nodded. "Ask Number Four; he has most of the details. I'm not sure when babies or toddlers typically need their shots. If what Charles is investigating pans out, it might mean our toddlers will have free or mandatory daycare a few times a week because they'll be receiving grants for education. So, if and when they get enrolled, will there be a danger of them catching germs?"
I took a deep breath, analyzing the pheromones around me. Damon's sharp passionfruit mingled with Mariella's sweet peach, while Wulfe's scent of burning paper and old books added yet another layer. Not to mention my own strawberry aroma, tinged with the hint of a burning candle, signaling my need for blood. I was the best of us at smelling and interpreting pheromones, and for me, they told so much about everyone around me that it sometimes made me appear telepathic.
I could have developed that ability, but Wulfe and Damon took it away years ago, just as I was on the cusp of achieving it, as my vampire side was boosted immensely. My mental structure might not have handled telepathy well, as my mind was rather special. It was strong, but it also had breaking points, and those were nasty.
Damon grunted, and Wulfe said something to him telepathically, causing Damon to furrow his brow again as he reached for other Salvatores. I felt it too, as I am the protector of all ten Salvatores, part of the Salvatore hive as well, so I picked up on the chatter. I wasn't sure if I could tune into their conversation, but then again, I wasn't that nosy; I didn't need to hear everything. Let them talk, for all I cared.
This was surprisingly strange, as we were having a conversation like parents, about our children and their needs. I hadn't had this kind of conversation with Damon before, not just yet. Surely, we had planned a bit here and there with others, but as he is the actual father of all my children, this was the first time. I just realized it, and it left me a bit stumped, actually.
Mariella, who was also present, chimed in. "Yeah, I want Charles to make sure he checks on my kids for that grant, too. I've been looking into schools, and oh my goodness, they are expensive! And I have nine kids. That grant would surely help out."
Damon said, in a calm voice, "Surely you two could work too. I mean, you're in good shape, so a few days working in shops would help. It would boost your benefits and your earnings, as some of us could be stay-at-home dads, at least for a while, and the girls as well. And the preschool or daycare angle is definitely worth looking into."
I wasn't in the mood to go back to work; the whole idea was almost repulsive to me.
However, I kept quiet and tried to focus on other things, saying mildly, "Well, Mariella's babies are older than mine, so I can stay home for a while longer. There's no need for me to rush back to work. There's a lot of work to be done, and the girls are managing the shop just fine."
Damon remained silent, while Wulfe looked at me more sharply, as if probing my mind to understand why I was so reluctant to return to work.
Frankly, I was feeling lazy and wanted to nest at home, spend time with my kids, and let others do the heavy lifting. I wanted Damon to do the work. Since he was the better earner, surely he could take a few shifts at the hospital and bring home a nice, fat paycheck, so I wouldn't have to work quite so hard. I was crafting a plan in my mind to keep myself at home and Damon at work, maintaining things pretty much as they had been.
Sure, I would get on with work over Mariella in some time, but I didn't really understand her motivation or what she was aiming for. Was it something for her, or did she have some idea of gleaning information about me?
Once again, my ego kicked in. I felt confident that she wouldn't get any useful reading from me, or whatever she was after. Or perhaps she simply wanted to experience what I could truly do to her. Maybe it was some kind of idea of hers to make it therapeutic for me. Hell, I had no idea, and frankly, I wasn't in the mood to delve into it. I decided to let it be whatever it would be.
Right now, I was ready to kick back for a few good hours until about noon for mealtime, and then again in the afternoon, ensuring our preparations were on schedule. And since I had so many eager husbands, it meant I didn't have to do everything by myself.
Life was good, especially as my plan was in motion and everything would pan out exactly as I needed. After all, I was the alpha female of our pack, the organizer, almost the de facto leader, and the all-around driving force. My ego flared up nicely, making me almost puff out my chest with my own importance.