As I made my way to the kitchen, I found myself reminiscing about old times – or rather, my nightmares. My discussion with Number Eight had left me in a contemplative mood, so I began to reel things back in my mind, particularly the time I had made the hairband. My original intention was to make all the Salvatores hate me, thereby losing their love.
However, this did not happen, at least not entirely. My little ploys to make Number One see me as the ultimate bitch worked well. Yet, my plots with Jarod and Magnum were too transparent for the Salvatores to believe them; they knew I had an angle and was acting for a specific reason, not just because I wanted to, but because I had a goal.
This awareness alone caused them to pull back in their reactions, shielding their love for me and preventing my little plays from taking our love away. It must have been hard for them to watch me erode every good part of myself, transforming into a bitter, vengeful creature. They watched me lose the one thing that made life worth living, and for what, they had no idea.
This remained true until I finally did what I had set out to do: the Book of a Thousand Lives was destroyed, along with the spell Damon's parents had placed on it. Consequently, Damien was the only one who knew of the book's existence and how to use it, just in case. When the book was destroyed, the spell was broken, and they too gained the knowledge.
Well, it was Number One's job to kill the very last version of Damien, and then I would be free. I had delved into the dark parts of my psyche, and what emerged was not entirely me. Let's just say that many nasty Sarks and evil beings lost their lives when I finally got to do what I wanted back then.
As I finally reached the kitchen, I found several Salvatores already busy cooking lunchboxes, reading and correcting my notes.
Number Four noticed me and greeted me with a "Morning. Come and sit; we have something for you. According to Number Eight, you're far too skinny, and that nightmare burned a lot of calories. Now, I'm going to taste you, get a good proper gulp of your fiery lifeblood so I can get an idea just how messed up your system is."
He then walked up to me, tilted my head, and sank his long, curved fangs greedily into my neck, drinking my hot blood. It was hot, as my temperature is normally 40.3 degrees Celsius, very hot compared to a human. I also have a lot of blood, about 35 to 50 liters, give or take. So, he was guzzling 16 liters, as my blood happens to be their favorite. I was simply a very good meal for them.
He swiftly plucked my hairband out of my hair and told me, "Sit your bony, stressed ass down, and I'll fix your hair. Now, about this hairband, these stones..."
He turned it over in his hands, and I sat down. Soon, a multitude of tall, chilled glasses filled with smoothies were brought to me.
Wulfe, who was also in the kitchen, added, "That hairband was meant to be her wedding jewelry with Jarod, just in case..."
His voice was downright hostile, and it seemed my idea of marrying Jarod would never happen. Well, I never intended it to; it had just been one more thing to piss Damon off.
Number Ten, also present in the kitchen, took the hairband and said, "Damn good stones. We'll take them out, as well as get the rest of her set and do something proper with them. I mean, these are worth thousands."
I was still sipping my smoothie when someone began brushing my hair. Shortly after, I was served a coffee pot, orange juice, Coca-Cola, and a generous spread of various foods. It wasn't unusual for Salvatore, one of them, to bring me a meal. He would often drain something from his fangs and pour it over my food, intending to provide a boost of vitamins and reduce stress-related substances. They were in a particularly caring mood, though we were all somewhat apprehensive, waiting to see what Number Eight's plan might be.
I noticed that one of our smaller refrigerators was filled with neatly stacked, labeled lunchboxes, each marked with the day it was intended for. This mirrored the system set up for Mariella's children.
We currently had nineteen children attending daycare three times a week, and each of them had their own lunchbox, prepared for specific days. From what I could see, the boxes were fully stocked for the rest of this week and the entirety of next week, indicating the boys had been quite busy.
Additionally, small juice bottles were prepared, some diluted, ensuring everyone had a ready supply. This preparation would significantly speed up the process of packing schoolbags, as several items were already completed and labeled. I had no doubt that even more preparations were underway.
My hair was being braided into small sections, starting at my temples and ending at the back of my head, and this was just the beginning. The Salvatores, who disliked traditional buns made with sponges for volume, preferred braids and twists, utilizing my very long, thick hair.
I was still eating when Number Eight walked into the kitchen. He took a huge plate, piled it high with food, and brought it to me. Fine, I was being fed, and then some. He then took a meal for himself and sat down. The others were also sitting down, as it was too early for the children to wake up, so we had time to ourselves.
He said, "I have an idea. A plan. As it stands, our so-called pack leader has once again shown us his glorious three-day rule, and now he's trying to abuse his power. My plan is simple, baby: I want you to do what you do best, flip the script so to speak. I mean, take back control, lead the pack. We will back you up and make sure our esteemed pack leader has no fucking idea what is actually going on."
I blinked slowly. Sure, I could do it. Hell, I'd been doing it most of the time, but now, with the Salvatores backing me up, why not?
As complications arose in my mind, I said, "But if you all will be here, surely he will notice and be suspicious."
Number Eight replied, "That's the fine print, baby. We won't be obvious. Some of us will be spies downstairs, playing a role, keeping Miss Pussy calm and Mr. Idioto clueless as ever. Meanwhile, you will have the power to decide everything: what needs changing and why. Can we optimize something even more, like food and treat allowances for downstairs?"
He clarified, "Demon had already set this up, meaning direct payment from their accounts into certain bills. Number One is lazy, so he won't check his account. Mariella is also clueless; she has given that kind of power to others, so she has no idea either. Demon will just inform them that, as they are now living on their own, they need to pay their parts of the bills. Food will be limited, as well as treats, just as it was originally discussed."
I furrowed my brow and said, "Well, it might get them to come back then."
Number Eight smiled and said, "Nope. Of course, they get their share of compensation, but a big part of that is directed towards the children. A few hints about buying treats from the shop will get Mariella whining to Number One about going shopping so she can check out new items. It could work."
I was just starting to organize everything in my mind, figuring out what needed to be done and what could wait.
However, as I had several telepaths around me, especially Wulfe, he voiced my thoughts. "First up, our meals. We could ensure we have 14 days of full meals, and then, when fewer than eight days remain, we can make more. That will leave us several days for other tasks."
I really didn't have to say anything out loud, as I was pondering chores.
It was Number Four who spoke next, "Now, for chores, let's optimize. This means shifting focus to chores for those days when we don't have to cook. Washing laundry will be daily; that's inevitable. But again, Number Eight actually had a good plan: get everything ready in the morning so you can start the first load before breakfast."
I added, "The children will be a significant factor in how we spend our time. We need to ensure that picking them up and dropping them off goes as smoothly as possible. Also, let's see if we can get my signature needed instead of Damon's, as he's not around. Check and ask what it entails, and make it happen. Baby care is one thing; again, I don't want to push it just onto the girls."
May and Emmylee were eating, and to my surprise, Emmylee said, "Oh, just try to take them away from us! I love those babies; I don't want to do chores, but I want to care for the babies."
I shrugged as Number Eight smirked. Fine, if the girls want to focus on the babies, then sure, they can.
"I've added a few things, and while I'm sure this will be quite demanding and no doubt stressful, let's try to keep it as fun as possible. After all, we have needs and nights, so let's be flexible if someone has a slow morning. I'm also thinking of kid-friendly karaoke or board games, maybe once a week for a gaming day. I'm not sure if I have the patience for large jigsaw puzzles, but there are tons of board games for us to try. I can be the head of the household, so to speak, meaning my signature is needed. As long as you keep Charles unaware of this, I'm not sure how tight Cornick might get if he finds out about our plan; he can be such an alpha." I explained firmly.
I rolled my eyes as Number Eight raised a brow, questioning me. "I can overpower him; I'm stronger than him, but I'd rather not. I'd prefer cooperation, not coercion. We need to read the situation, so to speak. If he stays enamored with Mariella, let him. Make sure he stays that way, but if not, well, then we'll just have to see where it leads."
I focused on eating as the men discussed the details of our plan. I wasn't too apprehensive, mainly because I had pretty much done this the last week or so, but this time I had backup, and a pretty damn decent one at that.
However, I had come up with a few new things, just something to make Damon's and Mariella's lives a bit less perfect, but they couldn't refuse as it was important for them.
I said this out loud as I looked at Wulfe, "Now, I want you to continue teaching magic to the Salvatores and Mariella. It's needed. I know you've taught the basics, but as I've read a bit, not anything specific, I know there's a lot more. So, you get to be a teacher once more. Are you up for it?"
Wulfe grinned and said, "Hell yeah. I will make several study hours, meaning I'll have several study groups. I need to first assess each one to see where they are and then I can classify them better. It will be easier as there are several groups based on their skills."
Number Four approached me, his voice soft, "Mimi, my love, you need to be a teacher. There's so much for us to learn, not just about pheromones but about our hive as well. You can arrange your lessons as you see fit, but it's essential. We also need to work on your energy, stopping you from combining them haphazardly and then unleashing your 'bombs' on us. Furthermore, ensure your syndrome doesn't flare up and that we reduce those stress substances. Therefore, I suggest planning camping trips or similar activities for the children on weekends, allowing us some adult time."
He continued, "Damon, number one is also part of those camping trips, meaning they too have some time on their own. So he can use Mariella as much he wants if he has energy left after learning"
I replied, "I can teach as I go along. I hardly have time to set up formal schooling for you, but whoever is around, I'll try to impart my considerable wisdom."
Someone harrumphed at my overly bold declaration.
Number Eight, in his usual haste, stated his next demand: "Now, Mimi has a good eye for dressing men. So, it will be her duty to dress us. We'll choose her clothes, and she must choose ours, showing us how it's done."
Everyone was genuinely excited about this, but I rolled my eyes. While it was certainly doable and could even be fun, when, in the world, would I find the time? It seemed one of the lessons intended for me was about sharing the burden, delegating, and ensuring important tasks were completed, all while juggling everything else. A part of my mind was already obediently planning styles and whatnot.
However, Number Four added, "And of course, baby, you'll explain why, what materials you're using, and what your aim is, teaching us too. I'm sick and tired of wearing jeans, t-shirts, leather jackets, or scrubs. Then, we can expand this to the children as well. We have plenty of fabrics, machines, and supplies if we want to create new outfits or revamp old ones. Let's show how Salvatores dress up their children."
I looked at him and replied, "Well, off the top of my head, I'd have you wear Calvin Klein's 2024 spring collection linen shirt in light blue with detailed sleeves. Add dark mauve linen pants from the 2026 autumn collection, an off-white scarf, a white braided leather belt with a silver buckle, black and shiny narrow boots with no socks, and a light cotton jacket, fitted with leather details, in champagne color with a pink pocket square."
He furrowed his brow in thought and then asked, "Could you get those for me? I want to try them on. As I said, I'm trying to picture myself in them, but I just can't."
I shrugged and replied, "Well, after we eat, let's go check a few fancy clothes boxes and see what's there. It's just one idea, but I can get more."
Soon, it wasn't just Salvatore number four who wanted to try something new, but several others as well.
I suggested, "First, we need to create a new chore: male clothing storage. You find a room, and I'll teleport the items. Then, we can start hanging them, putting them up, and seeing what kind of combinations we can create. We'll need racks, shelves, cabinets, and hangers at least. Shoes will be another thing, so we'll need a place for them too. It's up to you how you want to arrange the clothes: by style, color, or material. I'm also not sure if I have any male mannequins, which could be used when planning combos."
I was now eating my dessert while the men were busy finding a suitable room for their clothes, eager to see different combinations. I had been given a tablet and stylus, so I had to show them a few collections from a few designers, pointing out items I would use so they could get a sense of what they looked like.
Now, it wasn't just me making suggestions; May, Emmylee, Britney, and Daisy were eager as well. They had their own opinions, and I had to point out a few details why they wouldn't work.
As they were somewhat computer nerds, they soon found at least five apps where you could download your body and virtually try clothes on. So, I had to use those to explain why I wouldn't pair wide pants with a form-fitted suede jacket on the Salvatores with sandals.
The form-fitting suede jacket would showcase their upper bodies, while the overly loose pants would hide their rather good-looking lower bodies, making them appear less fit. And sandals? Not good for the Salvatores, especially not with those kinds of clothes. Sandals would come in handy with shorts or shorter pants, like Bermudas, for a casual holiday look.
Daisy did find a nice combo, virtually dressing number two as a cowboy and number four as an executive with a formal jacket and gentlemen pants, his hair neatly combed. The girls had their ideas too, but we had much more to do than just play dress-up all day.
It was time for me to take the lead, make things happen, and the best part was that I would get to do this behind Damon's back with the Salvatores backing me up. Perfect.