It was Friday again, and I was in the shop, watching the snow fall. I rolled my eyes, remembering the previous week's events, but I resolved not to repeat them. I was getting treats for myself, with a plan for a relaxing weekend: movies, snacks, and watching the snake eggs hatch. I would need to cut open a few eggs today if there were no signs of the babies emerging on their own. I already had fourteen new little snakes in their own enclosures, waiting for their first shed and meal. Life was good.
The pack was still in a frenzy, having an orgy and I was shifting gears. It was no use worrying over every little thing. I had money saved, and besides, from what I understood, most of our pack members would get twelve weeks of paternity or family leave, and some even more, all with full pay. So everything was fine.
Of course, things were a little different for me, but I'd gotten creative. Since my benefits from Finland were calculated based on my earnings, I was paying myself a higher salary, as they looked at the past twelve months or so. I was just making sure I would get as much as possible and save money too.
It was only three p.m. as I was in the shop, having closed a little earlier. So much snow had fallen, and there were fewer customers. My opening hours were flexible, and besides, the girls were managing my online site. I also had a shop there, so I could make bouquets at home, and they would usually pick them up, eliminating the need to ship them.
Today, besides the little community, I also had a book club reserved for six p.m., not too far from our mansion. I could drive there without a problem. It would be enjoyable to be part of a community and discuss books and other topics. And of course, Sunday church was on the schedule too.
It was December, and Christmas was slowly approaching. I wasn't sure about getting a Christmas tree, as we had a few nice ones in the yard. I would put lights on those over the weekend when I have time. My rugs and curtains had arrived at the post office and were in my car. I would have time to put up the Christmas decorations over the weekend; it was actually a fun idea.
Humming a Christmas song under my breath, I walked through the snowy parking lot toward my car. That's when I was surprised to see Number Five, clad in a black jacket, jeans, a beanie, and warm gloves, leaning against it.
He raised an eyebrow, looking at me. "I see you're as smug as ever, baby. Come on, let's go home so we can make it to book club. I've got food ready for you."
I stammered, "It's... it's not for you. I mean, it's not just women, they asked me."
Number Five took my car key from my hand and headed to the driver's seat. While I put my bags in the boot, I was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. I sat in the passenger seat as he started the car and turned on the air conditioning.
As he deftly backed out of the parking spot, he said, "Nice going, with the orgy. Too bad I'm pretty attached to you. I can understand why you did it, but then again... well, baby, a lesson for you: I'm not that easy. I haven't checked on our little ones, the snakes, yet. We'll see them later, and if there's a need to cut the eggs, it will be me who does the cutting."
I was silent for a moment before saying sheepishly, "Fine. I might have orders for Monday coming in on my online shop, and someone might come to get them from the house as well if they're in a hurry."
He glanced at me. "Good to know we're busy then. Has Charles looked at your online shop prices? I'll take a look too."
Oh my God, I wanted to make him back off, but then again, a voice in my mind reminded me of my reason: he was my husband, and this was perfectly normal. Mariella was used to this, and now it was time for me to learn how to be a wife, not just when I wanted to, but all the time. It was hard, so freaking hard for me.
I began to explain, "Do you have any idea how much education costs? I happened to check a few places, and it's a big amount. But I have money preserved for them. One semester might cost 35k or more. And since they will be supernaturals, it might be even higher, as there are limited places for them. Home schooling isn't really an option; it's too bureaucratic and messy. The yearly cost per child might be almost 100k, and since I have five, it's half a million per year. Like I said, I have reserves, and if number one knocks me up again…"
Number five interrupted, "You know what? I will put up a special account for your children, just to help out. We will be fine. It's good that you have reserves, but I and others will help you too. You are not alone. And to be honest, I would rather spend my extra money to ensure these five little ones get an education than give it to Mariella."
He placed his hand on my belly, feeling the slight bump I had. I had gotten a lot of attention on my bump in my shop, as everyone came to see if I was okay, as my little accident was the talk of the town. It had been almost funny, but then again, after I told them Damon had operated on me at home, they were even more taken, not just with me, but with our pack. It was fun to be part of the community, too. And now, I have a book club, and I would have my husband with me there. It felt so fucking weird, and I realized that for Mariella, it would be routine, but not for me.
"You'll learn," Number Five said calmly. "I taught you to be a lapcat, and hell, I can teach you to be a wife. Number One is weak, and you were quite sly, wanting some time alone, but baby, I've got you. Despite your need to be alone, I will be there. And it's just one thing you need to learn: we get home, eat, you shower and change, and then we get ready for book club. Hell, church on Sunday too. In the meantime, we'll make little Christmases, and yeah, we'll get Christmas trees, several of them, make them grow inside again. Then it will be perfect, to watch them year after year. We can even put little marks for children on them."
I was quiet for a while and said, "You are no psychopath; it seems you are starved for me, or love, I guess, with Mariella, it's more lust and less about love."
He glanced at me and smiled, grabbing my hand. I felt a sting on my shoulder; oh, my tattoo wanted to take this moment too. It was fine; I was getting used to my life, literally carving pictures in my skin. Girls had always been so taken with them, and every damn time we went to a sauna or spa, they wanted to check out my pictures. I felt a dark satisfaction knowing this would never happen to Mariella, and that thought made me roll my eyes.
Number Five was smiling, and he said, "Nope, your sugars are fine; it's just you, not your sugars, being a little catty."
I looked at the car's dim light and Damon's face. Sure, he was looking the same, but then again, he had his own microexpressions that made him Number Five, not Number One. It was just amazing to think how ten versions of the same creature could become so different and be literally their own persons. I was having fun trying to think what my versions would be.
Number One would be Leader Mimi; Number Two, maybe Surgeon Mimi, always ordering, snapping, making everyone scared of her. Number Three, well, I can be seductive when I need to. Number Four, I'm a doctor; maybe my vet side might be the correct version. Hmm, Number Five, my psychopath side, as weird as I felt, maybe I was most like him now. Number Six, another sex beast, not hard. Number Seven, well, I might be the cooking version there, as well. Number Eight could be a baker. Number Nine and Ten, again, working leaders or fighters in a fight club. So, sure, I could find ten different creatures in me, too. Not sure if my version would be any good, and thankfully, I would never have to see that happen.
"Well, your idea is a pretty spot on," Damon smirked. "I would add a little more personality to your versions, but that's not the focus right now. I know you've looked into the benefits and such, and there's a lot to consider. Since the kids will be supernaturals, there likely aren't many schools available. If you have any problems or ideas, I'm here for you. Number one... well, he's what he is, most likely with Mariella and their kids, but I'll be there as much as I can. Biology isn't a problem for me – it's just DNA. It doesn't make number one the only 'daddy' those five will have. But I can't see the future, and I won't make promises, as those seem to lure Mariella to come after us, especially if we make them for you. But I'll try. I can't promise anything, but I will try."
I rolled my eyes and said, "I just realized, when I was talking with Mariella, that despite me looking like the perfect mom, I can certainly care for babies, but older ones? I'm hardly a perfect example. Maybe I'll end up traumatizing those kids. It will be a trial by fire, and I'm not the best person to look up to. My cussing will make my children talk in a very impolite way, and it might get the school a little worried if my mini-me inform their classmates of their opinions."
Number five laughed out loud.
I rolled my eyes again, and he said, "You're spot on there. Your language, and kids are so freaking smart they'll pick up those expressions they shouldn't. And you are so damn inventive with your expressions! Imagine the poor teacher when one of your little versions calls someone a 'hairy ass-crack with an attitude problem.' Or the teacher might be a 'dried-up cunt with an illusion of control.'"
I was mortified. Of course, most of this would be avoidable if I could curb my tongue, but that was easier said than done, as I cursed like a dockworker on a hangover.
The car still smelled like a new vehicle, boasting midnight-black leather interior, faux wooden panels, and fancy digital displays. While it included numerous safety features, they were intelligently calibrated, unlike the overly sensitive systems of early electric cars. These early systems were prone to false positives, such as braking for tall grass, but later versions were improved.
This car, an exterior of silver metallic, was a large SUV, perfect for family needs. I was happy, knowing I had a variety of car seats stored and ready to use. I anticipated some adjustments to my nursery, as Charles would be working more, and the boys were starting a two-week on, one-week home schedule, earning significantly more. They understood the future financial demands: education would be incredibly expensive.
I hoped we would manage. I would do everything possible to ensure everything was perfect. Considering Mariella's children were witches, possessing more inherent magical abilities than mine, their schooling options would likely differ from mine. My children, with a potential rage gene stemming from either me or Damon, were shaping into powerful individuals, and their educational choices would be limited due to their unique capabilities.
Humming along to Enrique Iglesias' "Tired of Being Sorry" as we drove home, I found myself lost in thought, the music video still vivid in my memory. Random memories, both human and supernatural, surfaced: our trip to India with Wulfe, and the way we belted out songs together.
To my surprise, Number Five joined in, singing along. I joined in too, and he smirked, keeping time with the rhythm by tapping his fingers on the wheel. It was a slightly vampiric song, or at least the music video had been, which surprised me, but in a good way.
I wasn't sure I'd ever truly accept that I wasn't alone, that there was always someone for me, whether it was Wulfe or even one of the Salvatores, Charles or Adam. As our impromptu sing-along ended, I hit the button for my playlist. Next up was Sunrise Avenue's "I Don't Dance." This time, Damon didn't sing, but tapped his fingers along, listening intently, and smiling.
In a low voice, he said, "You know, baby, I can dance, and I could perform for you tonight, privately, once we get home. It's just a little fact that when I dance, I get so damn sweaty, so I'm gonna take off my clothes. Let's see, little bitch, are you still dry after my performance?"
I blushed, though, fine, he was offering a striptease. My body reacted with interest; it seemed to crave seduction, and a rather blatant one at that. It left me a little flustered, bordering on needy, but then again… oh yeah, I was ready.
"Fine, you can perform for me," I said in a low voice, "but I won't lose control, no matter how you wiggle that ass of yours."
He chuckled, his voice dark and promising. "Wanna bet, baby? I can make you lose control oh so fast, just wait and see…"
Oh yeah, this night was going to be interesting. It was good to have the weekend ahead of us. Really good.
Mariella posed the biggest threat, honestly. She was jealous, and if she discovered his plans, I suspected she'd do anything to stop him, or to have him for herself. Of course, she was also his wife, but in my eyes, Mariella hadn't earned my respect. She was weak-minded, unable to control her base urges, and acted on impulse. I wasn't sure if she would ever change, if she could change, or even if she wanted to.
I, on the other hand, was her opposite. I was always in control, never letting go, never making hasty decisions, though I was, more often than not, a neurotic mess. I was far from perfect, but I was who I was, and I wouldn't change, couldn't change. I had my supernatural rage, my powers, my abilities, and unleashing them would benefit no one. I possessed so much power: my pheromones, my vampire side, the ability to make anyone do whatever I wanted.
Control was paramount for me. Mariella, being my complete opposite, possessed far fewer powers and could afford to behave as she did. Was I jealous of her? Perhaps, on some level. Most people in the world could be free, but I never truly was. There was no one stronger than me to keep me under control. Wulfe was powerful, but I could overpower him.
This was a stark reminder to me: maintain control, always and forever. I would always have to live in my ivory tower, made out of iron self-control, history of losses, victories and experiences. But from time to time someone was going to visit in that tower, showing me the meaning of what love is.