My demon-killing spree went well. I'd wander the streets at night looking for demons. I was looking for information on that Satan licker at the same time. I lured them into the alley and killed them just like I killed people. I got damaged every once in a while when I was vulnerable to the fear demons and if one was around; I froze in place.
When we went into the demon nests to destroy them, then luckily, Mimosa wasn't susceptible, so she always jumped into action and destroyed the fear demon so I could keep going. I was in Pennsylvania, and I thought I'd go to a hotel because it was such a fucking long drive to the mansion.
I had a hotel room booked, and I went there. I'd gotten demon blades in me and a gigantic pile of division demon bites, some teeth left in the wounds. I just put a voice message on the base that whichever one of our medical people had to show up would be excellent.
I got a confirmation message that someone was coming, and I was getting my weapons ready when I heard the door open.
I just said, "I'm here. I'll be right there."
Damon walked over to me, put his bag down, and looked at me questioningly. Oh yeah, what's that doing here? Fine, I felt my rage flare up and properly as Damon looked at me like an unruly child.
Damon's voice pierced the air, his words laced with frustration. "Darling, let me examine your injury first, and then we can discuss why you've lost your mind!"
I stood up, gripping my weapon tightly, the cold metal grounding me. "Are you going to finish me this time, or will I wake up in another place, filled with that damn concentrated substance that nearly destroyed the dental substance tissue so was that you were working on? I don't even want an explanation about whose damn pleasure was more important than me and my infection. At least Colin knows how to treat, and he doesn't reject. But if I have to settle for you, then tell me, where do you want me?"
Damon fell silent, a muscle in his cheek twitching. He gestured towards the bed, and I slowly undressed, my skin exposed.
His raised eyebrows betrayed his surprise as he uttered, "Really, baby, you've made quite a scene. Fine. Let's get you patched up, and then we'll see."
His hands explored my body, his muttered words becoming inaudible. He reached into his bag and retrieved a box, unlocking it with a key.
His gaze met mine as he spoke. "You know it's time for you to sleep. Once I administer the cocktail, I'll be able to extract all that excess from you. You've suffered this damage every time the fear demon appeared, haven't you?"
I reluctantly nodded, although I didn't want to admit it.
Damon continued to draw the drugs into the syringe, his voice steady. "You'll never be able to withstand the fear demon, baby. I promise you that. You know how I am with promises, but you can trust this one. Don't even try to confront the demons. Leave them be and let others handle the demon-killing from now on."
Yeah, I wasn't planning on it. We had managed fine with Mimosa, both of us silent, understanding the need to protect ourselves occasionally. I never imagined my injuries would become so severe, so life-altering. Damon approached me once he finished preparing the medicine, guiding me to lie down before gently inserting the needle into my vein. As the plunger pressed down, darkness enveloped me, and consciousness slipped away instantly.
Damon sighed and started working. Mimi's words had hit his soul; to this day, he couldn't figure out why he'd stuffed her cavities full of the really concentrated stuff, and then walked away. He hadn't found any more of the dental bags he'd drained, and another blackout plagued him.
Damon had sensed Mimi's absolutely tremendous rage and had read Colin's minute-by-minute reports of Mimi's month's sleep after the world-saving gig was over when he'd once again been weak and fucking and drinking.
When Jake had then called him and told him about Mimi's condition, he'd been off duty and had offered to come and take care of her. But when he saw his wife's body, there was such damn clear evidence of her recklessness, carelessness, and needless vengeance or the need to kill demons.
Damon found an incredible amount of demon blades inside Mimi, the teeth of a split demon. He patched the wounds with his own blood and then called Adam to come and see.
He told Adam, "Missy goes into the demon's lair. Well, there's always a fear of demons as bodyguards or security forces, so this girl is a pillar of salt, and here's the result. I know we blew the whole damn European deal, and so did I for not treating Mimi's infection, but we need to talk some sense into this lady. She will not be okay if she intentionally goes to a demon's lair."
Adam said, " Now the lady's going on probation. Let's put her in a cage for a couple of weeks and see if we can get any sense into her. Bran won't like it when she gets all the demons to come after us. I know I'm the pack leader in theory and this is my decision, but Mimi is still a mate and I'm worried about her safety. Maybe it's time to give some tough love to the lady. "
Damon nodded and said " If she had a backup, Mimosa will help, but when there's danger for Mimosa too and Mimi is just too fearless. I will not program any fear into her; it won't work, but this probably won't help anything. I know this is Bran's thing, and he would insist on doing something for Mimi. "
Damon gave Mimi some more medicine, and they packed up all of Mimi's things and Mimi and left for Ohio's house, where Bran was already waiting. Bran opened the cage door, and Damon laid the sleeping Mimi down on the mattress at the bottom of the cage. Mimi would be in the cage for two weeks and all her demon killing weapons would go to others.
Bran had asked Dresden and Constantine not to give Mimi any more demon-killing weapons. But since they were wizards, not wolves, they were under no obligation to obey Bran, and it would always be at their discretion then. Damon did list all of Mimi's damage and how damn vulnerable she is to fear demons.
I woke up in a dimly lit cage, the cold metal floor sending a shiver down my spine. The air was heavy with the scent of confinement and despair. My heart raced as Bran approached, his voice filled with frustration and anger. He passionately explained, at great length, how my reckless and self-willed obsession with demons had made our entire pack vulnerable targets.
Bran clarified that I would be imprisoned for two weeks, stripped of all my weapons. He had informed Dresden and Constantine about my susceptibility to fear demons. The realization sank in - I was trapped, confined like an unruly little bitch. I spoke up, challenging Bran's decision.
"Fine," I said, my voice filled with resignation. "I can be in the cage. But do you truly want Adam and Damon to know who brought those demons upon us? It was you, not me. I have proof."
Bran fell silent, his expression unreadable. He stepped closer, his voice low and threatening.
"You better keep your mouth shut," he warned. "Or I'll make sure Damon joins in on that alpha party I promised to you. And when was the last time you even had a heat? You're a bloody freak."
With those words, Bran turned and walked away, leaving me alone in my cage. I had found evidence they were after Bran, not me, and Nick had sold Bran to them. But I kept my evidence hidden—no time to act on it yet. But Bran had wanted to put me in a cage for years. Well, now, he got an excuse for that. I have been to worse places.
Days passed, marked by the rhythmic clanging of the metal bars as I sat in the corner, desolate and silent. Adam, in his cranky state, brought me food twice a day. The tasteless meals offered little solace. His words echoed in my ears, reminding me of the weight of his responsibility.
"Mimi," he said, his voice filled with concern. "I know it may not bother you, but please stay safe. We messed up the world savior thing, but at least I can protect you now." I sighed, feeling the weight of his worry pressing on my shoulders. I remained silent, not finding the energy to respond.
Only when I spoke with Mimosa and Mirella, a sliver of light entered my dark reality. Their lively conversations brought a temporary escape from the gloom. The limited food supply barely sustained me, the chilled and unsalted meals offering little comfort. The tiny amount of coffee provided just barely enough caffeine so that my system didn't suffer too much. There was only quite a strong headache, photophobia, mild nausea, but I live. The electrolyte drinks, developed by Samuel, tasted like piss. Let's just say that I didn't drink them that much.
My will remained strong, fortified by the challenges of the past year. I controlled my temper, keeping my bloodlust hidden from prying eyes. Instead of facing the demons as a united pack, we were divided, and I was cast as the villain, confined to this cage, barked at, and forgotten. I was an Ice queen. If this was punishment, fine, let's take it. It is just going to take a little time to get my good condition back on track.
I had a bucket to run my errands in, but I knew how to make a concentrate piss and pawn my shit, so the bucket was used infrequently. With his stern expression, Damon visited me daily in the dimly lit basement. I cowered in the back corner of the cage, my body tense and unmoving, unsure of what he could see. He wasn't in his usual doctor mode, but in scolding mode. I couldn't comprehend why I deserved to be yelled at relentlessly every damn day. None of my pack members truly saw me for who I truly was.
With his vivid imagination, Damon repeatedly berated me for being an irresponsible fool, allowing my thirst for vengeance to cloud my sanity. He accused me of lacking reason, driven solely by a desire for revenge. He claimed I was transforming into a heartless killer, losing touch with my humanity, and would soon employ my fleas as mercenaries. Damon's expressions were remarkably inventive when he let loose.
No one bothered to check on my well-being or cared about me. They all took their frustrations out on me, but I concealed my emotions.
After two weeks, Bran entered the room and uttered, "I don't completely forbid you from slaying demons, as you never know when it might be necessary. However, actions have consequences. If you ever endanger this pack again by attacking demons alone and informing no one, I assure you, young lady, the repercussions will be far worse than two weeks in this cage."
"Fine," I responded coolly.
I emerged from the cage, projecting an icy demeanor, and refused to engage with anyone. I skipped dinner, neglected to shower, and swiftly departed. Grabbing the keys to my car, I headed to my Pennsylvania mansion, determined to take care of myself and ensure the smooth operation of my organization.
I had my own rights, and after enduring two weeks of relentless shouting from everyone, I wasn't about to remain there to be mistreated. Bran had a calculating look on his face, as if he believed he could win me over by behaving. But I wouldn't be swayed.
Like everyone else, Bran had preached to me, but my stubborn pride prevented me from admitting or even confiding in Damon about half of what I had endured on that ship. The memories of what that demon and others had done to me were too painful to bear, which was a major reason sleep eluded me.