Damon entered the room where he'd located the two missing women, Mimi and Mariella. They'd been gone, or occupied, for nearly a week. Since the anarchy studies had concluded and they were crafting new schedules and task lists, and since he hadn't seen Mimi in ages, he'd initiated a little creative interrogation of the older girls. They'd revealed that Mimi had taken some personal time with Mariella, which made Damon uneasy, though not in a bad way.
His vampire side was heightened, and it didn't take much for him to suspect that the demanding alpha female had a plan, and she was doing something that wasn't necessarily good for her, at least in her current, blessed state. Mimi was pregnant, four weeks along, and unaware. Damon felt wary; he didn't want Mimi to hurt herself, but he might be the one doing the hurting if his suspicions were correct. And they were.
The room reeked of Mimi's vampire pheromones – sex, lust. Mariella was in a state of blissful surrender, though her angry hiss, a comment about not wanting a meatstick between her thighs, made a muscle in Damon's jaw twitch. But Mariella wasn't his target.
The smug, super-strong alpha vampiress, stretching herself in bed, looking at Damon with her utterly black eyes, her hair white as snow, her vampire side fully out, was beckoning to his.
Wulfe said calmly to him telepathically, "How do you want to proceed? I am not saying what you should do; it is up to you. I can, and I will handle Mimi as you want, probably make sure Mariella is in order."
Damon said out loud, his voice calm, predatory, dark, "Nope, the bitch belongs to me; it seems I need to put her in place, and this time properly."
He let his vampire side emerge, his hair turning pitch black, as did his eyes. His skin took on an ethereal paleness, and his features sharpened, becoming crueler. His fangs descended, peeking as he smiled predatorily.
Waking naked, I got out of bed and ambled towards the bathroom, muttering, "Hmm, time for a shower, and after that, I'm not sure."
I completely disregarded Damon's vampire side, as my own felt superior at the moment, and with good reason. I'd fed off Mariella for the past four or five days, keeping her as my meal, which was making my alpha vampire side stronger. I expected the bedroom to be empty when I got out of the shower, perhaps cleaned up.
However, the look on Salvatore's face when Mariella loudly declared she didn't want his "meatstick" in her pussy would surely keep him occupied, despite his little jab at me. As if he could even touch me, I scoffed to myself, feeling smug. I might indulge my vampire side for a day or so and then return to pack life as the perfect little Mimi, ready to pull this damn charade along.
I walked into the bathroom, turning on the tap and letting the water run before stepping under it. The feeling was wonderful, a sensation of fulfillment. My vampire side had enjoyed itself immensely, for several days, almost a week, eating as much as it wanted, without Wulfe or Salvatore denying me blood. It lifted my spirits and gave me a sense of successful predation. I had my prey, I had my meal, and yeah, life was good.
As the hot water cascaded over me, relaxing and massaging my slightly sore muscles, I sighed with pleasure. Life was once again perfect, and I had regained my motivation, energy, and the power to keep going, to be the alpha female, to lead, raise toddlers, and live a family life.
But I was also overconfident, assuming Damon would behave in a certain way, even though he had always been hard to predict, even with my pretender power. Perhaps he had learned to use his chaos power, or maybe I just didn't know him well enough, or maybe there was some bias influencing my ability to read him, causing me to miss the obvious, simply assuming things would play out the same as they had in the past.
Having showered multiple times to rid myself of sweat, the lingering scent of lust, and the overwhelming saturation of my vampire pheromones, I knew any male would struggle to be near me if I allowed them to be as potent as they had been. The room certainly reeked, and anyone who entered would likely have only one thing on their mind. However, I was feeling lazy and didn't even consider whether I had any cleaning spells stored in crystals, as I was not magical creature, myself, I could have used.
Content to let our scent permeate the room, I finally deemed myself clean enough. I turned off the water and wrung out my still-white hair. My vampire side, smug and unwilling to retreat, urged me to savor the moment a little longer before returning to our normal lives. I grabbed a golden towel and wrapped my hair in it, then donned my silver velour bathrobe with microfibers. It was loose, but I loved the way it felt against my skin, still humming from Mariella's blood. Oh, my god, my life was pretty perfect right now.
I didn't think anything of it as I stepped out of the bathroom and shut off the lights. It was only when I heard a dark voice singing "Auld Lang Syne" with a damn-near-perfect accent that I raised my gaze. There, leaning against the wall, utterly relaxed with his vampire side fully present, was my vampire husband, Damon, the vampire king. He continued singing, a dark ballad specifically for me, and I could see him deeply inhaling, dosing himself with my pheromones with every breath.
He looked at me, took a few steps, and grabbed me, continuing to sing as he led me into a dance. His long fingers lightly touched my neck, my pheromone glands, and I hissed as a slight zap of energy caused my vampire pheromones to flood out. Oh, my freaking god!
Although I maintained a neutral expression, I knew my pheromones usually affected him intensely. Typically, he'd soon have one thing on his mind, and I wasn't certain if I was in the mood to play the part of his "sex kitten." However, as he finished singing, he leaned toward my neck and licked my pheromone glands, causing me to shudder.
His whisper in my ear made my body tingle with readiness. His dark voice oozed seduction, darkness, and danger in perfect measure, and he was my ultimate weakness. "Well, little bitch, it seems you and I have a little something coming, huh? I bet it's high time for us to see which one of us will be on top at the end."
My own voice, seductive but ready for a challenge, replied, "Game on, babyboy. Prepare for your new role, groaning and panting under me, begging for my pussy like a good boy will."
It probably wasn't the wisest challenge, but I've never claimed to be particularly wise.
Damon smirked darkly. "Babyboy, huh? Better start learning right away. Lose the nails, change back, or I will make you."
I took a step back, flicking my long black nails as I let my vampire side take over. "Oh, really, tell me, Damon, are you chicken? Afraid of little ol' me and my beautiful nails? Want to be my meal? I can grant it, but only if you beg nicely. I'm quite full; Mariella was a pretty perfect meal, so I'm not that hungry. But babyboy, beg, plead, kneel, or show me why I should grant you my kiss."
My vampire side felt smug, and for some reason, reason fled my mind as I taunted Damon, which wasn't wise, considering I was provoking a millennia-old vampire king with a notoriously short fuse when it came to my vampire side and its ideas of power. But as this story proves, I am neither wise nor always in my right mind; I just had to do it.
"Do you really want me to rip those nails off?" Damon's voice, now much tighter, hissed at me. "It would be my pleasure, baby. So, I'll give you one more chance: lose them and behave, and this *might*, just *might*, be pleasurable for both of us."
I tilted my head slightly, releasing a heavy cloud of my pheromones, pure, thick vampire pheromones that would drive him absolutely crazy with lust, power, and who knows what else. I was egging him on with everything I had. Taking a few steps, I walked behind him, and then, fast as lightning, I brought my nails down, intending to slash his back.
Instead, I found myself pressed against the wall, his hand wrapped around my throat, the other crushing my wrist against the surface.
"Oh, you are feisty. Fine, let's do this the hard way, then, you bitch. Don't worry, I'm going to pound your brains out of you soon enough, but first, let's disarm you, shall we?" he sneered darkly as he kept me pinned.
Pain shot through my wrist as he ground it into dust, more or less, making me hiss angrily. I was no longer in a lustful mood, and for some reason, the idea of him having his way with me didn't excite me at all; I was too pissed off. However, I had no chance to react. He kept me locked against the wall, now with some fucking energy.
The door opened, and Number Four walked in, looked at me, raised an eyebrow, gave a small box to Damon, nodded, and walked out. Damon tilted his head, and his damn spell, or whatever it was, kept me silent.
He opened the box, took out a pair of pliers and a jar, and placed them on the nearby table, looking at my toes, which were also tipped with poison nails. He grabbed the pliers, crouched down, and I grunted as pain lanced through my toe. Having vampire nails pulled out hurt like a bitch.
Smiling smugly, he worked slowly, dropping each nail into the jar. Before rising, he examined my blood-blackened nails.
"Oh, babe, these are most useful," he stated. "So many Salvatores are eager to test your poison and find an antidote. But let's move on; those talons are calling for my pliers. Don't worry, I won't let you scream; it would hurt my ears," he murmured, pulling the first nail.
The pain was secondary to my rage at his smugness. Pain was just a sensation, and I'd endured worse. But his smirk ignited my vampire side. I conjured a string of inventive curses, analyzing his lineage, his personality, and, yes, even his anatomy. None were polite.
After removing all my nails and sending the jar away, he maintained his spell. His eyes flashed electric blue as he scanned the room's energy. Then, he ran his fingers behind his ears, wiping them and marking my pleasure lair, humming to himself. He didn't use a cleaning spell or even try to remove our pheromones, but inhaled them, savoring the aroma and the effect it had on him.
I felt his vampire power unfurl; the king was ready for his queen. Too bad I wasn't in the mood for male attention. My vampire side was too consumed with anger. He then opened my secret cupboard, inspected my collection of whips and floggers, and then he also sent away to others my collection of our juices. Of course, he opened several collection jars of them and smelled, inhaling our heady, lusty scent, boosting his lust with each inhale.
His voice, sultry, left no doubt as to his intentions. He turned to me, his gaze sweeping over my naked body, his jeans straining. "Oh, baby, you've got something new for us," he said, his words laced with anticipation. "It's damn good to have Wulfe. He finally understood your little plan, and your...juices. At least number four. Adam Charles and two will be busy. I interrogated Mariella some time ago. She told me about pheromones and how difficult they are to make. Don't worry, you'll teach me soon enough. But come on, let's make this interesting. I just got your little confession." He made air quotes. "You could have escaped. I don't know all your powers. Well, show me. The rules are simple: no killing or serious physical harm. Bruises, hits, and fighting are fine. We both do everything to make the other submit. Can you, little bitch, get me beneath you? Have your way with me, use me, make me as helpless as Mariella? I won't hold back. No safe word. Nothing will stop me. No matter what, I'm going to fuck you senseless, and when you're legs spread, feeling my cock shuffling in and out, pleasure dimming your mind, then you'll see which one of us is stronger."
Oh my god, this boy knew how to push my buttons. He'd laid this damn trap so perfectly, and I didn't hesitate. "Fine," I said, "though I doubt I'll need even most of my powers. You're easy."
With a gesture, he dropped the spell. I was free to act, and now this arrogant bastard was going to get it. He removed his clothes with a flick of his hand, approaching me, his cock angrily red, hard, and eager. It was a magnificent looking dick, sure, but I wasn't going to be Mariella. I combined my rage and will. With a flick of my fingers, Damon was thrown onto the bed on his back, by my will-rage combo, which was useful as telekinesis.
I kept my will on him, preventing him from moving. He grunted angrily as I walked calmly toward the bed, opening my predatory vampire pheromones even more. I had no poison nails, but I had my fangs... dripping seductive venom, as my meal lay helpless.