As I peered into the microscope, I attempted, once again, to transfer a stem cell from my culture to another dish for propagation. Once we had enough, we would introduce specific pathogens to them. The goal was to coax the cells to disarm or recognize the pathogens in their less virulent forms.
This meant I would need to work with the pathogens, modifying or weakening them to trigger an immune reaction, a so-called memory, in the cells. This would give us an idea of the type of vaccine needed. Ideally, I envisioned a simple injection of these specialized stem cells or white blood cells, already possessing the memory, to serve as the vaccine's starting point. Then, we could test, perhaps six months later, whether those cells were still present in the babies.
Why not use the pathogens directly? Well, firstly, I had no idea how their bodies would react. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, when it comes to the health and well-being of the babies, the salvatores were very keen on using their noses, and even a slight immune reaction might give off a scent, potentially leading to an overreaction. Therefore, I needed to proceed slowly and carefully, one step at a time.
"Damn it, I am such a clumsy idiot," Mariella muttered from her workstation.
She was tasked with retrieving specific types of cells for me from blood samples taken from placentas and cord blood, a challenging task. We had obtained a dye that didn't harm the cells but colored the ones we needed. They were quite scarce, so finding one took patience, and transferring it with tiny tools into a separate dish required even more precision.
Ten minutes later, she called out, "Oh, shoot, do you have more of these smaller petri dishes left? I've used these up, and I need more."
I looked up and replied, "Check the upper shelf. If there aren't any there, you'll need to get them from the medbay. They're in the back cabinet, left side, on the highest shelf, still in cardboard boxes."
She went to check, but found nothing. "Fine, I'll go get more from the medbay. Are you sure the men won't notice?" she asked.
I explained to her, "They're originally from the Moldovan lab, so they aren't used by the men. Only me. I got them originally for my orchid propagation projects, but they're medical grade, so we use them here as well."
She nodded and left for our lab.
Mariella was still pondering what else might be in those blood samples. She envisioned red blood cells being harvested, perhaps to heal Mimi's pancreas or to use in case of an infection. The project was consuming her more and more, and despite her efforts to help Number One, she'd only achieved moderate success. She couldn't try to distract him too much, or he would notice, and it would all backfire, so she had to keep it casual.
She walked through the hallways and went to the elevator. Medbay was on the third floor, and she wasn't in the mood for stairs, so she took the easier route. The elevator pinged softly and halted.
The hallways were lined with light-colored wallpaper or painted walls. There weren't many wooden panels, just calm colors that brought a sense of light and airiness. The floors were cork, so her steps were muffled and not slippery. She could almost envision kids running in the corridors, screaming and having fun, or Damon helping his children with homework.
Mariella wasn't sure if she was willing to go back to work anytime soon. Sure, her benefits would keep her home this first year, but then, according to Mimi, she could be home for three years, maybe more. Then again, she still made bouquets when she had time, some days focusing on them as a kind of work.
Mariella walked into the dark medbay and flicked one of the light switches, illuminating the back part of the rather large space. She walked to the cabinet that Mimi had described. There was a lot of medical stuff there she'd never seen before—microbiological and whatnot.
"Aha, there they were."
Mariella reached for the cardboard boxes containing the petri dishes, but she needed a stool or something similar to reach them. Soon, she found one. As she hopped onto it, she didn't notice that numbers two and four had noticed a light peeking from the medbay. They decided to investigate.
Seeing Mariella teetering on a wobbly chair, reaching for something in a cabinet that wasn't normally in their medbay, and figuring that Mimi must have brought it in, sparked their curiosity and a sense of dominance. Mariella grabbed the cardboard box. It wasn't that big and didn't seem heavy, but it was closed.
"Whatcha looking for, honey? Anything I can help you with? I am, after all, one of many medics here," number four drawled, his voice calm, but with a hint of steel.
Mariella froze for a few seconds, her mind racing. She could come up with a story; all she had to do was make the two of them believe it.
"Oh, darlin', don't even bother thinking you could feed us some bullshit. The truth, please," number two said, as a hint of panic in Mariella's pheromones reached his nose.
Mimi had taught him well, and this was quite enjoyable. Mariella stepped down, holding the cardboard box in her hands.
"This is just for a project Mimi and I are working on, but it's not yet done or in the right spot. We will tell you once we have something concrete." Mariella took a few steps toward the door.
"Not good enough, doll. Try again," number four said as he reached out and stopped Mariella from leaving, blocking the door with his arm.
"Come on, spill it," Number Two said softly, steel hardening his voice. "The truth, and right fucking now."
Mariella gulped as Number Four fixed her with a hard stare, compelling her to speak. "We're waiting for answers, not lies," he prompted.
In a slightly squeaky voice, Mariella confessed, "We're studying babies' blood, Mimi's blood, trying to develop vaccines. Mimi has a secret laboratory, and this has been one of her and Colin's projects. She's also preserved her placentas, and we've harvested living stem cells from them."
Number Four exploded in a string of curses. "That harebrained idiot! She has no regard for the dangers! Oh, my cursed balls and asshair, this has to stop, and right now!"
Number Two, though calmer, was clearly unhappy. He refrained from cursing, unlike Number Four.
"Darling, take us there," he said to Mariella. "I need to explain this to Missy, and Adam is on his way, along with several Salvatores – not Dickweed, but the others. There are certain dangers that my lovely, self-harming wife has dismissed. I need to be the bad guy here and make her stop."
Mariella swallowed, completely unsure why this was such a bad idea, but certain she would soon find out. Sure enough, the Salvatores seemed… not angry, exactly. Mariella had grown adept at reading emotions, and this was worry, tinged with frustration.
I had just harvested three more omnipotent stem cells for my culture dish when the door opened. Initially, I thought nothing of it, but the waft of passionfruit, pear, apple, and peach told me Mariella had been caught. Fine. Let's get this over with.
Number Four, standing in the doorway as they washed their hands and ensured the space remained sterile, said sharply, "Baby, stop this, and right fucking now. You have no idea what you're doing, and this isn't the time."
"Actually, Damon, I do know," I replied calmly. "Come on, take a look. I've found them: omnipotent cells from placental tissue—my cells."
Number Two stepped forward and said, "Please, step away. Let me explain why you can't continue this."
Wulfe had also entered the room. "You're keeping secrets, my love, but these are dangerous ones. As the boys have explained it to me, I won't let you continue. So, please listen to Number Two and try to see this from our point of view."
I gently set my tools aside, closed the culture dish containing the five omnipotent cells, and placed it in the warming cupboard to keep them alive. I knew those cells weren't found in my marrow or blood, but somehow my body had made them in my placenta.
I imagined the possibilities: a functional pancreas, cultured spleens, or new immune cells, which could potentially relieve the strain on my current system.
As I sat down, Number Two sat beside me, but he didn't have a chance to speak before Adam, his voice strained and hands tensed, said, "Honey, do you remember way back when you discovered your enzymes? Remember what Samuel said? It still works."
I furrowed my brow.
Number Four then spoke, "Now is not the time to make your body do something weird, like those new cells you were just thinking about, Missy. You've been collecting your powers for years, and not much has been unloaded, meaning your willpower is immense. As you know, you can affect the functions of your body. Those babies need you; we need you; damn, this pack needs you. So, you must understand our worry. I know you're trying to protect the babies, but what I just snatched from your mind... baby, there's no need to reinvent the wheel. And your collection of pathogens? We can curse them or use dental to disarm them, but keep them so the babies will get immunity."
I remained silent, mulling this over. My willpower was immense, and I could be pigheaded when I got an idea in my head, but surely a robust immune system wouldn't be so bad?
Adam said, "Honey, now is not the time for your system to go haywire. You want to be robust, but you're in danger of triggering your immune system to attack everything, exacerbating your allergies and sensitivities. I doubt that's your goal. So, no, do not attempt to do anything to your immune system. We're here, and it's going to be unpleasant. Charles, Salvatore, and I are protecting you, which means you might not like what we're about to do, but it's not your decision. Wulfe will place a spell in your mind, erasing all knowledge of those cells and your plans to upgrade yourself. I will revoke your access codes and make sure you have no access here. This is for your own good. Hate me for it if you must, but your babies need you too much for you to endanger yourself with these ideas."
I nodded. It was a done deal, and there was nothing I could do or say.
I realized this, and I said to Number Four, "Please take care of my cells; they are very important. They are new, I mean I have not found them anywhere in my body, only in my placenta, so they might exist only there. I know you're protecting me, but I did study this with Colin during the time that led to my four girls. I have a job for you, and it's dangerous. I understand if you decide to destroy it, but do you want to hear it? It might make you pissed off as shit."
Number Four replied, "Try me. I am not one to get pissed off easily, well, not *that* easily, but I have a feeling I need to know."
I was still sitting, and I looked at Wulfe. "This might upset you, too, but try to let the Salvatores make the medical decisions here."
He nodded. Charles furrowed his brow, crossing his arms. My lab felt a bit crowded, and soon, Salvatore's auras were almost like a cloud hanging in the air.
"Adam, remember the time that led Colin to really experience just how nasty and naughty patient I was?"
He nodded, tensing. Number Two sighed, his lips in a tight line, a flicker of regret flashing in his eyes for his past weakness. Nine and Ten, who were also standing there, looked at me, worry etched on their faces. It was sometimes amazing to be married to these wonderful creatures, and this might make them protect me even more.
"Yeah, the nasty infection, erysipelas, why?" Adam asked.
"Well," I began, addressing him, "as you know, Samuel had made a vaccine for that pathogen. However, Bran, being Bran, didn't consider that he was also vaccinated. As you recall, Colin explained how the pathogen evolved and changed within my body. Well, that one did, much earlier. As they were interrogating me, the pathogen had already mutated within my body, transferred into them, but not causing any symptoms. Samuel's vaccine kept them asymptomatic, but they were still carriers."
Adam cut me off, saying, "Don't tell me that germ is out there, changed..."
I nodded and continued, "Colin recently discovered that a specific type of the pathogen had evolved to target shifters. It might be a contributing factor in the neonate deaths and infections. He collected several samples from different strains, and I have a few of the nastiest ones here. I wasn't planning on using it yet; it's secure. But eradicating that damn pathogen once and for all was one of our goals. Samuel, he's too busy peering into a microscope all day, and we're as busy as ever."
Wulfe was silent for a moment, then asked, "So the superbug that made you extremely sick and caused you so much pain for so long is out there, loose, simply because Bran was an idiot, and you have it here, in this lab?"
I nodded.
Wulfe was silent again. "Well, we could curse it, but a curse might not target all the pathogens in the world. Could we create an effective, targeted solution?"
Charles spoke, "A vaccine is our best bet, and our dentals. First, we need to secure everyone in our pack, meaning we also carry Salvatore's DNA markers. Let's try to connect immunity to this pathogen to those markers. Then, when this is over, we can easily vaccinate the rest of the pack. And if we can get it into our DNA, our offspring would inherit immunity. As for a curse, yeah, we shouldn't destroy it, but bind it, stop it from evolving, so it's easier to eradicate."
Number ten nodded, as did number two, who then turned to me and said, "Show me where it is."
Mariella, still standing in the doorway flanked by the Salvatores, remained quiet until number five explained what the pathogen had done to me.
She then said, "My savior radar can help too; I can make a potion and put a bit of divine white power in there, what I've gotten from Mimi's memories, enforcing the link."
Number six, along with Charles, immediately objected, "No, you are not messing anywhere near that germ. You are even more susceptible!"
Wulfe, number six, and eight began leading Mariella out of the lab. As they did, I stood up and walked to the back of my lab. Several of the Salvatores followed, exploring and studying all the equipment.
As I walked toward the cryo tanks at the back, I saw Number Four had secured the placentas. He was softly tutting, unsure how to utilize them. I took the cryotank labeled "black" and handed Adam the manifest. It detailed the few strains of the nasty streptococcus.
I explained, "Here's what I have. Colin has the other strains, and the manifest notes where they were found and who the carriers are. Not me, not anymore, but, as you can see, Bran's werewolves, certain wolf alphas... and then it spread. He basically started an epidemic."
Adam muttered, "Does Samuel know how widespread this is?"
I nodded, a little bitter. "But then again, there are a lot of germs in the world, and Samuel wants to study them all. He's not going to focus solely on this. Colin gave him a few strains, and he just directed his group to study them, not bothering to do anything about these pathogens. There's a possible hemorrhagic fever in Borneo, much more exotic. So, he went to study that instead. Colin was pissed off and stopped giving him samples; he doesn't trust Samuel's team. Jarod refused to study these, saying they're too high on the nastiness scale for him and that he wouldn't expose himself or Miss Parker to that sort of plague."
Number Ten smiled slightly, while Charles muttered a string of curses aimed at his lazy brother, his careless father, and the nasty pathogens.
As I reached for the opening mechanism, Number Four grabbed my wrist and said, "Stop. Move out, Wulfe, if you please take care of her."
Wulfe then said to me, "Come on, Unicorn, let the boys have their fun. The babies will awaken soon."
I wasn't sure if they would ever get any vaccines done, but it wasn't my problem anymore. They had the tools, and they had the time, but would they have the motivation? Or would Mr. Dickweed, once he learned of this, sabotage it all?
It was unfortunate, a real shame, but not the end of the world. Certainly, it could mean the babies would get sick eventually, and progress on those strains would stall, meaning I would have nothing to give Colin when this was over.
However, for me, it would simply be a case of "que sera, sera," and moving on. I realized I had grown, or changed; I didn't take this as a personal insult or crisis, as I surely would have in the past. In truth, my priorities were my babies, and for my five perfect little cuddlebugs, I would do anything. So, I could let them take knowledge out of my mind; I had backups, I could step away, and who knows what they might accomplish someday.
Sure, if the babies got sick, I might say, "I told you so," or something like that, but they might be just fine as well. After all, they were half me and half Damon, so maybe their immune systems were fully functional, and no crisis would loom in the future. I could feel everyone's love and worry for me, but I doubted they would get much done.
Our life was messy; it truly was one hell of a rollercoaster. The fact was, the more I got to be without the alpha male – meaning Damon kept his distance, hating and blaming me – the more I liked this dynamic.
I wasn't power-tripping, per se, but damn, my newfound independence tasted so damn yummy. I wasn't in the mood for even trying to behave nicely or obey every order. Nope, I was good at twisting the narrative, so I got to keep the power and was still doing good for the pack, not just for my power trips.