I first went to Bolivia and bought a house there. I kept it as my headquarters while I started organizing things over there. I did blood farms, Colin supplied the equipment, and I had a Magnum with me that could do similar things. Jake and my strike team ran the medical supplies that we found, as well as quite a few shipments of various supplies and drugs that were snatched up.
I had some really nice boys and girls here, too, skilled hackers who would get us money and then turn over some facilities to the authorities, so everyone from the IRS was on down to check if every license and training was in place. When they required check-ups, they had pretty bad luck getting the victims somewhere safe, and then when they went to move them, the strike team would attack and rescue the victims, as the authorities would usually dismantle almost the entire facility.
I had not yet gone to any base when I put my Bolivian farm in place. This had been an old farm, and here, too, there were extensive fields. Damon had told me how the house in Philly had been burned down and the land sold. I didn't argue with him. But this was going to be a magnificent house and farm.
I had made a complete study here with a big enough desk. Several monitors, a laptop, several phones and printers, a fax machine, and shelves full of files and folders of all the different files and all the information I was collecting. Then, with this, I found it.
One man, Mr. Morrisey, and Mr. Kendrick were linked to Project Omega. This was an Indian man. I didn't know what name he went by, but in one place, there were computers, and when I had gone through them, I went through them myself sometimes when there were so many; I had found an exchange of letters between the two of them, information about Project Omega even more.
And then I realized the whole horseshit thing when I read it all. Morrisey had cheated the government and never intended to deliver what he promised, and there was also correspondence between Morrisey and the government members, just Project Omega.
This man had been the retrovirus designer and had also studied my tissue samples. There were codes on them. I put all the information away so that not even Adam would know, and then I went to the storage room to see where the information from this place was.
There were also large quantities of tissue samples; there were mine and Bran's, Adam's, and Samuel's samples. When we'd been on the ship, that facility had been the one we'd stopped at. I collected all the samples and put them away again.
Now, I didn't know what I would do with them. But for now, I would keep them hidden, my private information, and I deleted all the data from that computer. I had copied them to a secure drive, which was in my safe.
I had a secret. Nobody minded, but somehow, I didn't want to share the information because I had a new target. If I could find this Indian guy and interrogate him, I could learn a little bit more about my whole origin, and who knows what that would give me?
Besides what other experiments I saw this guy had done, this one deserved to die and be good and proper, too. Son of a bitch. I had a target about the size of a Sark, but I would tell no one I would enjoy this all alone.
My rage needed a bit of venting, and the thing was that here in fight clubs, didn't have demons but witches, wizards, incubi, succubi, dark elves, dark fae, naughty of course, so I had a good meal there every time. Of course, I had to keep myself in check as Magnum had come and watched every time I fought, so I couldn't go full-blown with rage unless I wanted him to inform Damon or Adam.
Although there was a lot of activity in the fleas, I enjoyed South America for many reasons. Fight clubs were one of them. They unleashed rage and gave delicious blood meals. Plus, I kept my reputation on. The fearless flea was once again in the business of being best at fight clubs; though these were underground, illegal ones, these mattered precisely where I needed them to count.
Predation and blood storage were another, so let's get down to business. My vampire side was strong. I had to admit to myself that I am more vampire than ever. So, I had my vampire instincts to hunt and feed. To kill. Put on your gig clothes every night, take your lady, and hit the streets.
I was singing Boulevard of Broken Dreams in my head. It was kind of my gig song. Now, I wasn't killing. I was looking for the perfect blood bags, so to speak, for myself. But there were a few targets now and then, and I might do some nights just for fun because I was already so good at it.
Sometimes, Mimosa would also walk loose next to the lady, but I didn't harness her. Mimosa was a vampire like me, and sometimes, if the meal was too weak for me, Mimosa was fine with it. The vampire wolf just let her fangs come out and drank her victims dry. We had a wonderful time at the gigs. Slowly, the worst of the rage, self-loathing, and disgust gave way, and genuine enjoyment and relaxation took its place. The gigs had had that effect on me for quite some time.
It was years ago. I had my own ways and enjoyed when I could actually do things and decide on my own, without a shadow creeping a few blocks behind me. Not that I didn't miss Damon or wanted to be him; this was just as much more fun at this time, and it did kind of make part of my soul sing.
Not the same as what I felt with Damon, not at all, but mere satisfaction, and that I got to do what my instincts told me to. Fulfilling those urges was wonderful and gave me a new feeling of satiety and peace.
Whenever I found an incubus, I would seduce it into the alley and then taste it. If it was strong, I ate it empty and hit the tranquilizer. If it was weak, well, I ate it empty and killed it. Or the Mimosa ate it down. We had a special knife that killed them all at once. And, of course, we had a clean-up truck with us, so we didn't leave too many carcasses in sight. I did not know where they dumped the carcasses or what to do with them. I didn't even want to know.
The strongest ones were tasty. I'd already killed three incubus princes with my blood farms. So what? There seemed to be enough of those. And there were plenty of them, really. If I found demons, I just knew I would not kill them. I was going to taste them, and the same thing, Yum Yum, when my blood farm got more inhabitants.
I just needed to know for sure that those demons wouldn't die by my hand, that they would stay alive, so no pain. I tested different thoughts and actions a few times and got the hang of what I needed to do. If the demon were not for food for me, then my backup, usually Jake or Magnum, would kill it after I left that demon, generally out cold in the alley.
After a couple of weeks, I had another angel revisit me to bring blood after I'd saved and helped enough people; then Mimosa and I spent three days in ecstasy as we drank one bag and shared it between us. This was a golden angel, so stronger than a plain white one. It was exquisite tasting, and that ecstasy.
My strike team worked all the time. We now traveled all over South America, and then how we drove somewhere, and then I always came back to Bolivia. I did some flea work and went to fight clubs twice a week. After that, I always spent a day at the gym with Magnum as he fixed all my mistakes, reduced my sloppiness, and made me a better and better fighter, a more efficient killing machine, and also taught me to control my rage better and all my emotions.
I got even closer with Brutus, Lucy, Lance, and other strike team members; they were my second pack, my second family. As well as Jake. He had brought his wife to South America with him. His wife was a lovely, snappy lady who gave Jake a fantastic challenge. He was truly happy with her.
I had been in Bolivia for a month when Adam called. "Mimi, what have you been up to? Damon is still in the house and recovered if you want..."
I laughed at Adam and said, " Tell Salvatore that the restless winds have taken his wife this time, and she can't get out of them yet. Enjoy yourselves, watch TV, cook dinner. I'm going to work. "
Adam said, " What are you doing out there? "
I said, " I'm clearing out incubus and succubus farms, I'm doing kill shots, I'm going to fight clubs, I'm in Magnum classes after that, I've done 25 cash sniper jobs, I've bought five big farms all over South America. I have put fleas in South America in order, and they are doing a good job. We have also looted quite many facilities and directed many official people to investigate those facilities, from the IRS to health inspectors and whatnot, to see that everyone has a license to operate and there are drug glasses by nursing staff. You know, we are pests."
Adam grunted and said, " Well, good thing Magnum's watching you. I see you have been quite busy, little bee. Are you sure that you won't come home? I mean, you can never know when Damon will leave. "
I said. "If he leaves, so what? I am busy, having the time of my life, and I am not yet ready to stop for one man. Besides, in my luck, when I would come home, there would be only a phone and wallet to greet me."
I hung up when Adam said he'd pass on the greetings.
I continued in the same vein. I almost had a routine of what I did each day, and I did quite a lot of Reddington gigs, so the safes and vaults were piling up.
After a couple of days, a silky smooth voice in my head said, "Baby, what you're doing is inviting trouble for yourself. You can eat incubi and sometimes kill them, but from what I've heard... I'm a little worried already. Can't you just stop? And fight clubs, your rage baby, take it easy."
Damon was worried. How sweet. I was in such a fierce mood that I would not take it easy. Now, I was doing what I was supposed to do. I wonder if he will program me to stop doing this, too. I knew I would order all my products from the shop because I had no way of knowing what music would play in the shop.
I wouldn't mind eternal flame too much, but that's the Poison. The horror of it paralyzed me in my seat and would be too much of a risk. Better to be safe in the house than in a medical facility. Even though I had plenty of volunteers to accompany me to the shop, one time was more than enough when Brutus had to carry a frozen body out of the shop.
It took the rest of the day for that fear to dissipate, so I knew it would not be good. If I had recovered from that terror the minute we got out, it would not have been so bad, but I could function after three hours. Despite that, I wasn't 100%.
Besides, I had heard that I was now over three million in bounty, sark. I think he's got a burning desire for enzymes. I'm not sure if the institutions have suffered a bit. I'd been organizing pretty fucking hard, and we'd had quite a few facilities and shipments looted and destroyed, and we'd always left a flea mark. Sark knew it was me. So, I tried to get Salvatore to calm down or back off.
I said or thought, " What I do is my business. I've been doing gigs for several years, so you can calm down. It's going to be fine."
The feeling of Damon disappeared from my head, and I was happy. I kept on hunting. I was now in Brazil. Incubi ages when you drain them enough, and judging by the nursing home I started out in, I was about to need to get some fresh blood again.
The incubi were killing people. Straight up. They had gained a reputation as seducers through TV and books, but when an incubus got to you, it was neither pleasant nor orgasmic. The incubus' sperm or whatever liquid burned, releasing the life force from the cells when it burned. You didn't catch fire, but it hurt and a lot. Incubi liked to eat slowly.
I had now emptied four incubus farms already here in Brazil, where they had gathered people to eat from—women, thin, suffering, sick. And every day, the incubus would come and glue their lips to the woman's lips and suck the life force out. If it didn't come, then the woman was put on her back, and the incubus fucked her until it came inside the woman. Then again, they would kiss and suck the chi that came out after the sperm had done its job.
One fucking could give chi for maybe two or three days. And these were human beings. It burned and hurt inside these women all the time, and pretty soon, we had powerful pain relief when we went to empty these farms. I was doing fucking important work, and I was very proud of it. I'd gotten a flea group now made up for these farms.
They weren't my normal strike group; they were South American fleas, local ones, and once I'd uncovered what was going on at these farms, I quickly got volunteers to work.
When Adam called me to come back to America, I was actually in the middle of America or Mexico at that point. Salvatore and I are going to do a joint gig in New York. I then put Jake in charge as I started packing, and Magnum would also be in America at the same time.
We were supposed to go as a pair with Damon, but me as Mimosa and Damon as a human to track down a werewolf or werewolves that eat people. These were said to be ancient wolves and would not be easy to kill. Our job was to find them, shoot them with a powerful anesthetic, and then call Samuel to do the job. Of course, if the situation demanded, I could try to kill in Mimosa mode, but there was always a risk.
Damon's job would be to find the contact for these wolves, i.e., who they were working with. Probably a woman, and that's why Damon was the perfect man for the job. Even though Mimosa could be loose, we were stronger together and would do it this way. Besides, I didn't want to risk Mimosa any more than I had already done with Reyes.