Charles was lovely. He really was. I still wondered how he had slipped into my life and then into my heart. Adam had always been my protector, even before I was even supernatural when I was just a human being probed and destroyed on that ship.
That's where Adam already revealed how much he cared. He's always been my support and my protection. Always. Adam doesn't leave his wallet and phone on the nightstand and disappear to some mysterious place I know nothing about. Sure, over the years Adam has had his fair share of women and booze, but we ended up together and it felt so right to me.
And it still does to this day. Where my feelings for Damon are like a whirlwind and sometimes neither of us is sure where we are going, my feelings for Adam and Charles have remained steady. I love them, deeply, uninhibitedly, I trust them and they are my pillar of support that I can rely on when I really need it because I know that I am also important to them, a priority. Today I never am to Damon anymore. His priority is someone else, while I am
My heart, Salvatore tore it apart, literally every now and then and then metaphorically. He could marry another woman, get a divorce, and beg for his life back when that woman turned out to be a dick.
He could be in a lovely mood, nurturing, caring, teasing, taking me to a restaurant for dinner, we could sometimes, in the old days, just lie on the sofa with our arms around each other and that was all we needed. Damon's biggest problem nowadays was Charles.
Damon was a pathologically jealous possessive man, after all, he was said to be over a thousand years old. Damon abused me, I mean to the point where my body died, and then he repented, I'm told after he'd had his fill. He said he didn't understand himself. I haven't seen him in years.
Originally it had been that he kidnapped me, took me to a cottage somewhere, and stuck his tooth substances into me and fear and terror so that I was really scared of him after that. He was a black mamba because before the attack he was lurking and talking in his head and sneaking around biting me, Adam, and Bran with substances.
Well, he was said to have an evil spirit in him and it was taken away. Didn't help. The next step was that I was again kidnapped this time not ambushed or informed of my intentions. And stabbed or beaten, again with drugs. The explanation this time was that he was strengthening me, I could take more fight clubs and drug stores and so on.
Then came the equipment. The shed was, Again kidnapped, now tortured with stabbing devices, rib crushers, and poisons. Automated devices he'd picked up somewhere. These were shed sessions. And boy have they been enough, the explanation is vague and regretful, when you have to, or you baby you do, one tendency is to say stop.
Only when the gentleman has had enough then you can only stop. Or you have to beg, ask. Then there's everything else. The Lord is fucking good at manipulating everybody, how to turn every single thing I do upside down so I'm the one to blame. And then the Lord himself wants to invent and hand out punishment like sedation and symptoms.
Charles is almost the opposite of Damon. Charles never wants to hurt me. He has been the one who has always gotten me together ever since he slipped into my life. Charles is my support and my security. So is Adam. Those are the two I trust.
I thought, now this has got to work. now I'm going to get that plant down somehow. Just as soon as I organize sixteen thousand different things again and see if it goes the way I had planned. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair.
Working as the boss of a global resistance movement like this is bloody exhausting, and after a European gig, of which I was a Marrok half the time when Bran was poisoned and went into a coma. For some reason, I always become a marrok then and it's no fun when you feel like the werewolves of the world are talking in your head at the same time and everyone has an equally urgent or terrible problem to solve.
I was still in Monaco and my recovery was going well. I had put on a lot of weight and regained a lot of fitness. I continued to persevere in the flea work, even though Charles and Adam were starting to get some time off from the marrok work.
I'd gotten in heat almost as soon as the gig was over, but it was fucking painful again and ended after two weeks with a uterine infection, so Adam and Charles had to cut my uterus out and a new one would come when it did.
Now I was trying to get another one of Sark's outfits down. First I'd have to find where it is. Then do some reconnaissance and come up with a destruction plan, then get a crew to do it and then start going over everything with this crew. And that wasn't the only facility I was focused on.
As I said, being a boss is a tough job and even though Charles always tells me to delegate, I can't and won't delegate everything. However, this is my organization.
"Hey Mimi honey, do you have a minute I have a contact that would probably be very useful for that Sark facility." Charles came into the room. He looked at me worriedly and I guessed that I was about to be told to either go out to dinner or do something else for a while.
"Yeah, have your contact call me and I'll look into it." Charles came to sit down on the other side of the table and went over to the chair, crossing his legs lazily. "That's the thing when this contact wants to meet, and since you're so determined to get that plant down, how about we take a little road trip? Let's go meet the contact and if that doesn't help, well at least we get to spend some time alone." Charles said.
He clearly expected me to say yes. I didn't feel like arguing, so I thought fine, let's go for a drive and meet some guy again who is probably well impressed with my organization at first and compliments me, but let's give the information to Charles and talk to him like I'm air.
After all, I'd had enough contacts to meet. My involvement would be more of a formality, a means of getting information from the contact. I put up with it, even though it wasn't my favorite thing to do.
"Fine, let's go then if that's all you have and your contact is ready to meet," I said and got up. I took my jacket, my phone, and my bag. I always carry a gun in my bag. Always. Loaded. You can never be sure. Similarly, I slipped another gun into the inside pocket of my jacket and made sure the knives were in place. You can never be too well equipped.
Charles drove and I used my phone to fine-tune some of the gigs and send out kill lists. Even though the fleas had gotten a lot done, I had gotten a lot done. We had exposed the drug laws to the media, they were in congressional investigations, so there were plenty of them. And it was far from all in America.
The whole world was full of them. We tried to get every country where we could, just some kind of network that could expose these facilities to the media, but they had become more cautious as we had brought the American facilities to light.
Now those facilities were in bunkers, hidden. in very difficult places to destroy. And they were more cautious. I'd just have to continue to be persistent and watch, there would always be a corner to strike from. Just keep your eyes peeled.
We got there in about an hour or two, I wasn't paying much attention to where we were going while I was working. I knew I could probably take a breather now and then, but only when the endless to-do list in my head was less demanding. Charles gave me an irritated look when I put the phone down.
"I'm glad you had the nerve to leave it for this meeting, Mimi. You know, we could have had a chat on this drive but, no, you're glued to your phone or computer these days. Isn't the whole idea of a big organization to give those jobs to other people? Let Magnum do the job of organizing the gigs again for a while and take a breather. You're still not quite recovered enough. You should remember, Mimi, that your health comes first." Charles preached.
I was 59 kilos, recovering well from the Europe gig because I was 28 kilos when it was over. As for the magnum and work, the gentleman was going through lady time again, when work was not so much on his mind.
I didn't bother to mention it to Charles, because he would have persistently cataloged, even through all the fleas to find a replacement for me. I sighed and grabbed Charles by the arm and leaned on him as we headed towards the big factory.
Charles' contact was the manager of one of the good pharmaceutical companies. They were a competitor of Sark's and he said they had a good idea where the plant might be. They also wanted to show me some drugs and equipment they had scored at a foreclosure auction they had just held for supplies for one of the pharmaceutical plants that had just been uncovered.
They said they would start to focus on the panicking pharmaceuticals and their antidotes but did not know the drugs I could then see if there were any suitable ones in those drugs.
We went in and Charles' contact turned out to be a woman, looking remarkably like Geena Davis, and led us into his office where we had coffee. "I'm going to have a couple of scientists from over there come and take you, Mimi, to look at those drugs while I run Charles through these possible locations where the facility might be located. "
Oh fine, let's go somewhere else. It didn't bother me. Something about that woman just made me cringe. Maybe it was the way she looked at Charles and, even more, the way Charles looked back. Three people came into the room wearing lab coats. I got up and grabbed my bag and left with them. We walked some distance and came to the elevator. The elevator doors opened and I went in.
Someone pushed a button and the lift started moving. Suddenly two of them grabbed me and pressed me against the wall of the lift and I felt a needle plunge into my neck and it stung as something was injected into it. The lift stopped between floors and I was held still, I couldn't even move my arm.
These were strong. Probably werewolves or vampires. The drug was strong and blocked my rage completely, and within five minutes I felt my legs start to give out and my strength fade. I felt the lift start to move as I sank to the ground almost unconscious, the last thing I noticed was being lifted onto a stretcher. Then I blacked out completely.
I woke up tied to a metal table. My head was really fuzzy and the medicine that had been stuffed into me was on the stronger end of the spectrum. I tried to break free but my muscles were like jelly and I couldn't get my arms to work quite as well as I would have liked.
Metal shackles, tight. I was naked, in the cannula and something was dripping down the central cannula. The first thing to do is to try and contact Charles. Nope. Nope, cannot do that. Plan B. Fury. Nope, same cannot do that. The door to the room opened and in walked five men in lab coats.
They didn't even talk to me and started gathering their supplies, their instruments. then they came at me. An autopsy while alive is not a nice thing, not even close. The men were talking about my body parts as if they were doing an autopsy. My voice box was paralyzed, so I couldn't talk.
They tied me to the table even tighter, putting more shackles around my thighs and on my arms before they started. They examined my heart, my lungs, and all my organs. They did experiments. What would happen if they swapped the aorta and the superior vena cava, how my heart would do? They did several pulmonary embolisms on me and saw how easily I healed.
Eventually, that torture stopped. They moved me to the bed after giving me a very strong sedative. Then they put metals in the drip: iridium, vanadium, cobalt, and rhodium. The drip bags were so I could see them all the time. The sedative was strong, I was stupefied and desperate, my reality was spinning and I kept seeing the damn bags.
They'd go and change the new ones every time they ran out. Then I was moved again to another room heavily sedated on a bed with spiked handles attached, naked. The first incubus came. He looked about 80 years old and he came and spread my legs, pushed his cock straight into my cunt, and started fucking slowly but steadily. And then he came it hurt and it always hurt.
The incubus' sperm or whatever they're shoving inside me burns like acid because it's supposed to release your chi, your life force so the incubus gets a meal. When the acid splashed inside me and this ancient man bent down to glue his lips against my mouth, I hoped that by now Charles was already tearing the whole place apart to find me. The man sucked my chi until he was finally in his twenties. And he left.
18 other incubus did the same and time after time I began to feel my strength and life force begin to fade. Then he came into the room. The incubus king that I thought I had killed so many times. Julian MacMahon's duplicate. He sucked a lot of my strength and the burn inside me didn't subside right away.
The investigators took me in for another autopsy. How the incubus stuff was affecting me. The experience was as horrible as the last one. When the autopsy was over, I was again put in a room, given metals, sedatives, more of them this time.
My head was groggy, my thoughts slow and wandering. My strength was low and I kept seeing the drip bags. I saw the medicine drip. It made me feel despair, pain. They were dropping medicine, I don't know, I had no sense of time, I was completely helpless.
Then they came and put thin but long spiked shackles with silver spikes in my hands... They took me like to a patient room and put on a patient gown and resting handcuffs so that they covered the spiked chains. They made sure the medicine was on properly.
Then I saw through the window as Charles watched me with a worried look from his contact next to him. I couldn't believe it. Whatever that woman had explained to Charles, he believed. They looked at me for a moment and walked away.
Soon the investigators took me away and the torture continued. They tried to coin me, brainwash me, several autopsies, metals, drugs, and interrogation at fleas. I said nothing. I couldn't get rid of the drugs, I couldn't get rid of anything.
From time to time I was taken to the presentation room to have Charles look worried when I had a seizure. How could he have known that every organ in my body had a metal conducting electricity through it so that I would have convulsions?