Now, I was after the demons. I'd been tailing one demon for a while, intending to find out if he was running some kind of slave trade, and I knew he was in one bar. This demon was not of a tasty quality, so this one was going to be dead once I caught and interrogated it a bit. I was going to the bar again to stalk and see who he was actually meeting.
I had short black hair down to my chin, a black leather jacket, a red satin shirt, and a long black leather skirt. And very heavy makeup. I also had a wide choker around my neck, a spiked version giving me a bit of an edgier edge. The demons would suspect nothing.
I had now stalked and captured several demons in the three weeks I had been in America, had already brought down six slave traders, and freed a very large number of prisoners from vampires onwards. And there was always some vampire who recognized me.
I just hoped the word didn't get back to Damon. Well, I didn't know what Lord Salvatore was doing at the moment, but he was quickly gaining a very hard reputation. Now he wasn't the eternal playboy or fuck machine, he was the black angel, and if he came at you, you couldn't really survive it.
But I wasn't looking to make that kind of impression. I was more into operating in the shadows, hiding, attacking, destroying, and disappearing so no one would suspect a thing when they saw me.
I went to a bar and saw this demon. He was sitting at one table, and then in came three fear demons. I stayed in my seat because there was nowhere else to go. Luckily, my disguise was good, and I could contain the smell of my fear or disguise it that way because there were other people in the bar who were affected by these fear demons.
I had enough proof that, indeed, this was a slave trader selling supernaturals to whomever. There were about five demons coming in to buy or ask when the next sale was. I also had my glasses on with a camera, so I got a shot of the buyers. The information went straight to the base. I was in Virginia and had recently bought a large mansion here.
The demon looked like a man, dark hair, pale eyes, thin lipped mouth, a bit of a slouch, as if he had once been fit but was now not so hard muscled. I kept my expression neutral as crippling fear hit me, but when I quickly did one of those dental things to keep my pulse steady, no one noticed. But now I still didn't get to this until after the fear demons had disappeared.
I'd learned how badly susceptible to the fear demon I actually was. I'd been in a shop and had a terrible panic attack and had run into the road, when Dresden had come along he'd run me out of the way of a truck and the reason turned out to be that there was a fear demon in the shop.
That's how I found out about my predisposition to fear demons. But since I am a flea, immortal, one fear demon has not stopped me. Dresden had given me a lesson on how to kill a demon and had given me the proper weapons.
I had the demon-killing weapons with me—a gun with demon-killing bullets or just a dagger. One good strike from that, and the demon was a goner.
And yes, this one had already got himself a kill warrant. I just need to track where this one goes from here to the bar. Well, as long as I track where this goes, where are the slaves, then I'll capture this and interrogate as I had quite a few demons interrogated.
Let's just say Damon had taught me too well and slashing with a demon dagger made the demons talk pretty loud, and true enough and there was a threshold of what a demon could withstand before dying, I didn't tell any of my victims that, not one bit.
My darkness had so much fun when we were questioning our quests. Not that they survived, not at all.
The fear demons left, and the demon ordered another drink. I prepared myself for a little stalking and tracking. With any luck, this would take me right to where the slaves were being held. Then I'd call in the fleas and save the day again.
The demon didn't look at me at all. Well, there were several women in the bar dressed the same way, and the little rumor we had put out that lesbians dressed like this gave us peace of mind without the men coming in to hit on us all the time. I sat at a corner table in the shadows and sipped my tequila slowly, watching the demon.
The door was to my left, and I wasn't looking to my left when I heard the door open. There was a gasp, and I looked up. The heavy wooden bar door swung open, creaking on its hinges, and Damon emerged, his figure framed in the doorway. Clad in black leather pants, a sleek black satin shirt adorned with a vibrant red pocket square, and an open black leather jacket that cascaded down his form. His hair had grown longer since our last encounter, showing that it had been at least five months since we crossed paths.
The bar was teeming with vampires, their presence a testament to Damon's notorious reputation. A menacing saber hung menacingly from his hip, its wicked edge gleaming ominously. Concealed in the shadows, I remained motionless, unreactive to his entrance.
Damon prowled towards the target I had been silently following, effortlessly snatching up the saber and severing the victim's head with a swift, brutal strike—the illusion of my stealthy stalking shattered in an instant. However, I still possessed the evidence of the buyers on video, which needed to be analyzed for potential audio.
These glasses I wore could record sound, though it wasn't their primary function. I pondered whether Jason or Jack, our most skilled analysts, were present. Damon advanced behind the bar, methodically inspecting each bottle and a hidden compartment to ensure the absence of a vampire potion. I had heard of these brief inspections he had done in various bars in search of the secret use of vampire potion. I wondered if that demon had anything to do with the vampire potion then.
Accompanied by two loyal vampires stationed at the entrance, he emerged from behind the bar with a calm demeanor. Moving through the throng of vampires and humans, his gaze locked onto mine, a chilling smile curving his lips, devoid of warmth.
Slowly, he traversed the room, heading directly towards my table. In a deliberate motion, he confiscated the glasses from my face and tucked them away in his pocket. Taking hold of my arm, Damon effortlessly lifted me to my feet, declaring to all within earshot that my disguise had been thoroughly exposed.
"Lady Salvatore, accompany me, my beloved wife, and enlighten me on your recent activities," he roared right about.
I remained silent, acquiescing to his command as he guided me out of the bar. The ferocity exuding from him left me with no choice but to comply. Clutching the severed head of the demon, its blood dripping onto the floor, Damon and I approached the awaiting doors held open by his vampire companions.
Stepping out into the night, he unlocked the trunk of his car and gestured for me to stand aside. As he did, a male vampire emerged, accepting the demon's head and placing it within the cooler in the trunk. Damon uttered not a word, his gaze icy, commanding respect from the men as if he were their true leader.
Opening the car door, he forcefully pushed me inside before joining me. The engine roared to life, and as the vehicle moved, I felt a sharp prick in my lungs, accompanied by the scent of passionfruit. It was the last sensation I registered before succumbing to darkness.
Damon sighed as he looked at his unconscious wife, he had missed her and he admitted it to himself but he was in the middle of this thing now and he would get his soul back to singing with Mimi one day, if only it would be so wonderful to be together again.
But as she was adventuring in pretty fucking dangerous waters and Dresden had actually told him what had almost happened, she was on the move again, and Damon had been hearing reports for several weeks of how she, his wife, was kidnapping demons and then a big slave trading plot was uncovered and the fleas saved everyone.
No matter, but Damon would have appreciated Mimi acting as Lady Salvatore rather than a flea in the shadows. He took Mimi's glasses out of his pocket and looked at them; they were state-of-the-art, and although she was doing a good job and saving innocents, the demons selling slaves were more his concern than hers, if only he could get her to believe it. But he was then ready to teach her a better lesson.
They arrived; Damon got out of the car and motioned for one vampire to take Mimi out of the car and carry her inside. This was his headquarters. He had produced his own throne from their vampire wedding here, and the elders were aware of the entire operation. They didn't dare go against Damon even though they had favored the vampire drink, but now it was all destroyed.
The vampire carried Mimi to the chair Damon showed, and with a flick of his wrist, Damon sent the men away. He tied his wife properly to the chair, not taking off her choker, though he could see the scar tissue peeking a little under it, he just put it on better, but he bit Mimi's arm and changed her long red hair, with big curls of course.
I woke up tied to a chair somewhere. I was pretty fucking tied up. Well, thank God I didn't wake up naked from the fucking table. I kept my breathing rhythm the same, didn't move a muscle, and didn't even open my eyes or move until I was properly awake and had some idea if I was alone or not. I wasn't.
Damon's voice said, dryly amused, "Baby, telepath, I'll know as soon as you wake up, so you might as well open your eyes already."
I opened my eyes, fine. I lifted my head and looked. The Lord was sitting on a throne of some sort. I recognized it. It was our Vampire wedding, his throne. It was quite an enormous space, a warehouse of some kind, and there were always many people here, vampires. They stayed away, but I could see that all of them feared Damon. I didn't know what he was doing here.
I saw my glasses on the table next to him. I looked at Damon for a moment and said, " Are you some kind of vampire lord, or what is this?"
Damon looked at me coolly and said, " This, darling, is none of your business. And you will tell no one about this. Is that clear? I'd appreciate it if you'd leave the demons alone because you're so damn vulnerable to the fear demons, and it doesn't help, darling, no matter how much rage you have on display. Now look, we are both on the same thing, and surely you can see that my reputation, ability, and empire are better suited to deal with the demons out of the way. You, my dear wife, concentrate on those naughty medical facilities, and maybe succubi and incubi, but forget the demons."
Damon's voice was frankly condescending, and oh my goodness, did it spark a spark in me?
I said, "I'm at the gigs. I don't care what you or your empire is up to. I save people. I always do what needs to be done. I was actually looking for the slave trader you so nicely liberated from his head. You see, my dear husband, I would have had him followed to find all the captured supernaturals he was trading for half the night. I don't know what your problem was with him, but you made my job difficult. Now would be a good time to find those slaves, too. "
Damon let out a heavy sigh, leaning forward, his intense gaze locked firmly with mine. The dimly lit room seemed to grow quieter as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. "You keep your mouth shut about this place," he stated, his words piercing the air. "You're not telling anyone what we are talking about here. The slaves have already been discovered. I'm doing the same thing as you. I'll gain influence and fame by rescuing these people from demons. Maybe my motives aren't as noble as yours, but they get the job done. Understand."
His will seemed to press against my mind, compelling me to comply. I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. "I understand. I won't breathe a word to anyone. But can I please have my glasses back? And why on earth am I again sporting red hair? I'm trying to blend in, to be less noticeable."
Damon's gaze lingered on me for a moment, contemplating. Then he spoke, his tone firm. "You have red hair when I want you to. And no, you're not getting those spy glasses back. Dresden warned me about how close you came to being hit by a truck and how strongly you reacted to the fear demon. You're vulnerable, more than you realize. The fear demon senses and knows everyone it encounters, and it has a hive mind. That means every fear demon knows your weaknesses and vulnerabilities. You're like a meal to them, constantly feeding on your fear. The fear won't cease, but it drains your resources. If you were to be captured by a fear demon, your recovery would take far longer than three months, and the damage could be severe."
I fell into silence, processing his words. Finally, I spoke, my voice composed. "Thank you for the information, but I can decide about my safety. I don't need you to decide for me."
Damon grunted, his searching gaze locked on me, his eyes lingering on my neck. At that moment, I detected a flicker of emotion before it vanished, replaced by icy detachment. Without the influence of my pheromones, he could reject me and distance himself from the bond we once shared. No longer was he my husband, my biological half, my mate. It seemed our epic love story had ended.
Damon said, "I'm not sure about your ability to keep yourself safe, or in fact, your desire to watch your back; you are the ultimate sacrificer for others."
I snorted with irritation. I'll take care of myself. I don't need bodyguards. He looked at me, heard my thoughts, and frowned almost abruptly, as if he were an unruly child.
Then he said, "Now I'm going to put you back where I took you. Remember, I'll monitor things, though, so try to leave those demons alone. Concentrate on the medical facilities, but don't go after Sark. You know how I work, darling, and I'm sure you understand that this is the warning."
I tried to get off of the chair but the ropes were too tight and too many times wrapped around me. He got up and went to the cupboard. From there, he took a medicine jar, a syringe, and a needle. He drew liquid from the syringe and replaced the needle. He came to me with the syringe and lifted my sleeve.
He said, " Darling, you'd better behave yourself, so I don't have to teach you this properly then."
There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Then he pulled off the needle cover and found my vein without difficulty. He pressed the plunger to the base. The last thing I saw was his subtle smile.
I had actually been in Dresden's class on how to kill demons. He'd given me guns, bullets, knives. Taught me the most common demons and where they die. I was a quick learner, and demons were pretty much our enemies, so I had no problem with those gigs, either. Men are overprotective sometimes.