I woke up alone in Monaco, in my bedroom. There were no traces of anyone and no wallet or phone. Fine. I got up, showered, and got dressed. I looked at my phone and noticed they kept me under for five weeks. Fine. As I looked at my phone, I saw a lot of messages, including one from Adam, his report of what he had done, and he was back to being Bran's lap poodle. I sit and sigh.
This was not going to be easy, but I did it anyway. I relieved Adam to be my number Two. My reason was simple: Bran. It was his sabotage against me to take Adam, keep him busy, and prevent him from being my second in command. I knew it literally tore Adam in two, so I let him go so he would not have to try to do two opposite things and feel guilty not doing his job as my second in command.
At that moment, I decided there would be no second in command, anyway. I would keep control of things, and possibly, I would, too. I could do this better if no one lurks around me, and I would have to answer their questions. My organization, my responsibility. I didn't care if Bran would see this as a victory over me; I was too busy at work.
I returned to work in Monaco, and a couple of weeks later, I got good evidence of where one of Sark's facilities was. This was not a rescue gig; it would be a blow-up job but a good hit against Sark. This was one of his most secretive places, those he guarded very well, and I found this by chance. It would go down. Now, I needed to do this swiftly and very secretly so there would not be a planning committee, but I would blow up this target all by myself.
I booked a plane. It was time to return to the States, and maybe after this blowup job, I could live in a pack, that is, if they were available or willing to be with me. If not, I could be a vet, doctor, dog, or cat show judge or even go to PR gigs. I returned to America and drove to Maryland, where there was a facility. When I got to Maryland, I went to one of the Flea warehouses and picked up supplies of explosives, guns, and ammunition. My car was loaded, but I got a little stronger explosives; now, I would not want to leave anything behind, so I would blow up this fully. No traces of anything, other than a pile of rubble, would be the result of this.
The Fleas were busy on the other side of America. There was a big conglomeration of medical facilities that required a lot of people. Magnum was busy. This facility wasn't that big. I could blow this one up myself. I'd done a lot of jobs. I just didn't have time to plan this thing from many directions because I knew how slippery Sark was.
I had to do this without backup because time was of the essence; I wanted to get this done very strongly, too. Over the years, every time I've found a facility, I've made a plan so that when we hit it, the facility is empty. I don't know where the fuck he always finds out I'm coming from. Now, he had no idea that this facility would go down and fast, too.
But not now because this is an impromptu surprise attack, and this time, sark, you're going down. I drove a suitable distance from the facility. I had dark clothes and dark hair. I was armed and ready to go, too.
I got out of the car and went to the boot to pick up my stuff when a hoarse voice behind me said, "What the fuck, Mimi, do you think you're doing?"
I had no time to react when hands grabbed my head and twisted hard enough to break my neck.
Damon carried Mimi, who was limp, to his car and drove silently to the house where others were waiting. He had taken Mimi's car, and men took out all of her supplies inside.
Bran looked at the still seemingly dead woman and said to Damon, "Please put her voice box down before she wakes up. She needs to get this lesson in her head. She endangers the entire pack by making an impromptu attack against Sark. I have learned that no good comes out of it if one goes after Sark and gets his attention on themselves. She would make herself a target and make us targets, too."
Damon grunted, went to medbay, got some local anesthetic, and paralyzed his wife's vocal cords. Damon did not notice that Bran had ignited his Salvatore rage, and Damien took his chance too and continued to manipulate Damon. Damien had given him the idea of monitoring Mimi's location. There was a new tracker device on Mimi, and Adam had also put the little program on Mimi's computer so he would see what Mimi was up to.
He had not put the program in because he did not trust Mimi but to see if there would be anything that he could help with. He felt immensely guilty when Mimi relieved him of his post as second in command. He had failed her. But Bran had given Adam and Damon an idea to monitor a few keywords, like all the known Sark aliases, so if Miss went hunting Sark, they would know about it.
So when an alert came through that Mimi had located one of Sark's facilities, Damon monitored the situation. Then it became apparent that Mimi would go to this place, which was very important to Sark, and that location would be heavily guarded. He acted, alerted the pack, and Bran ordered Mimi to be brought back to the pack to face consequences for her very reckless actions.
Now Bran was happy. He was always good to talk, and he had ensured that each of these men would be enraged about how irresponsible Mimi was by endangering the pack. In truth, Bran did not care for Mimi's safety; he wouldn't have minded actually if Mimi had blown up the building, but he wanted to get Mimi. So now the entire pack was in this, and soon Miss would be in serious trouble, and then it would be heat time.
Long and strong heat and in the pack so he could get that juicy heat pussy. First of all, Damon would be the one who would actually give her the punishment. If Damon did not do as he wanted, he had his ways to get Damien more onto the surface, and then Mimi would feel some serious pain. Best of all, as he watched Damon literally take the voice off from his wife, Mimi could not say a word.
I woke up in the Delaware house in Bran's study. All my supplies had been brought to the floor. Four very angry men were looking at me. I was still a little slow. Bran was sitting behind his desk. He was looking kind of smug. Adam and Samuel sit on a sofa, looking at me very sternly. Damon was standing, leaning against the wall, looking at me coldly. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and rage. I tried to speak, but I didn't get a peep out.
Damon said softly, "Your voice box is paralyzed so that we won't hear a peep from you. This time, baby, you listen to us and listen well."
The entire pack was pissed at me. I'd gone after Sark again and hadn't told anyone. Actually, I was the leader of my organization, and this was not my first time in this rodeo. I knew that this was all Bran's doing, but the pack ties were closed, and Damon was furious. He was not in my mind right now, so there was no chance I could explain my viewpoint.
I had just recovered from a long European gig, and then it was just such an excellent opportunity when I found evidence and the location of Sark's new plant. It was supposed to have been a simple blowup job. Still, Damon had caught me before I got anything done. Damon grabbed me out of the car and broke my neck. The evidence was back in front of Adam, Damon, Bran, and Samuel.
"Mimi, if I hadn't grabbed you, you would have gone inside, right?" Damon asked silkily; I nodded. Sure as hell I would have. That's why I had the explosives. That facility would have been mostly empty, and I knew my job well enough. Sure, there are no guarantees in any job per se, but this had been the grand prize, and I was pissed off by lost chance; now lives would be lost probable, and it was all my fault when I had not gotten the gig done.
"And did you, baby, have any backup?" I shook my head. Improvisation. Carpe diem, take a chance. I could not speak. All I could do was nod or shake my head. And it truly pissed me off and properly so. I glared at Bran.
"And were you honestly in the best possible shape for the job?" I shrugged. Now, that depends on who defines my fitness for missions. I had done the whole goddamn Europe gig on the way less stamina and strength, but this was set up as it could be.
Bran spoke, his voice enjoyable; the rest of the pack did not catch it, but my pretender side caught it very well as he said, " Once again, endangering the pack. Young lady, you should know by now that we are a pack of wolves and hybrids, too, and we don't do stupid, reckless solo missions because of revenge. We should have been trying to bail you out. Would it have been another ten weeks for you to be tortured while we would have to feel helpless and unable to help you until we would get any chance to do anything? Sure, you could have blown up that building with those explosives, but gotten Sark coming after all of us. So let's once again try to teach you something. Fine tranquilizer gel, strong one for four weeks. Symptoms Damon, you get to give. I know you're furious. And then the hormones. After her punishment, I want the lady to have a long, powerful heat."
Bran looked at me triumphantly. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his fingers, and looked at me, very satisfied. Damon had found potions in the witches' caves to give the victim various symptoms, such as malaria, asthma, COPD, etc. The duration would supposedly be 2-4 weeks, and Bran gave Salvatore a free hand.
This was going to be nasty. Damon or Damien had treated me thoroughly in the shed, so it took some time to get my fitness back, and if I interpreted the look on Damon's face at all, the heat period would not be right after four weeks. I did not smell a wet dog yet, but I could sense that Damon was furious as if he had been in the beginning when he was a black mamba, so now he did not care for my condition at all. Or my pain. And it could be that this would make Damien appear, too. I would have to take four weeks of gelling, meaning I would be fully paralyzed and unable even to think of a good victim for Damien. It took less than three days for the gel to set on properly.
Bran was obsessed with the heat. The whole pack was in my heat. It was watched and pondered, yet it always did its own thing. The same kind of heat as the keeper. Oh, I hated fucking jelly. I hadn't been officially punished more than once or twice, and the other ended in a proper inflammatory abortion when Bran decided to put reproductive heat on me when I was helpless.
I could tell by the look on Damon's face that no one but him would get to me, and sure enough, we weren't lying on the couch with our arms around each other.
Bran looked at me from head to toe for a moment longer and said to Adam, "Adam, secure Mimi. Damon, please sedate Mimi before you take her to be gelled. She must not take her rage out; since she is in somewhat good condition, she can be dangerous. Adam will make sure Mimi doesn't run away. And Damon gives her a shot in the muscle. I want to see it take effect slowly. Make it strong, but not too strong."
Adam took an iron grip on my arm. I decided to be quiet as Damon lazily got up from his chair and walked away. Fine, go ahead, do what you want. I do not care. I decided to put on the ice queen mold. Damon came back with a couple of medicine bottles, syringes, and needles. Oh, right, he wants to put out a show. I was pretty helpless in this situation, and it was not going to attack anyone. Once again, I let them do what they wanted to do to me, so then, in the end, I would have proof of this punishment reality, too.
He started by opening the syringe packet and the needle and connecting them together. Then he removed the needle cover with his teeth and picked up the first glass jar. The rubber stopper popped easily, and he pulled the medicine into the syringe, left the needle in the bottle, and just removed the syringe and then the next one. Pulled some more into the same syringe again and a third medicine. The cocktail was ready. He did this efficiently and clinically, but he enjoyed it clearly when he saw my apprehension on this little show that he was putting out.
Damon tapped the air bubbles out and inserted a clean needle into the syringe. "There are three different sedatives here, pretty fair doses, but if I know the lady at all, she'll be out of these well before the jelly kicks in. If I give her more now, she'll pass out, but we'll see if the three-drug combination works."
Bran nodded and said, "Good, please proceed."
And Adam tightened his grip. I wasn't resisting at all still. My expression was neutral. I was once again willing to take the hit and give my lesson, then to the pack. Let's just see where we end up with.
Damon stepped closer and pulled the needle cover off this, too, carefully feeling my arm before inserting the needle into the muscle and pressing the plunger into the base. He then put the needle cover back in place and threw the empty syringe into Bran's bin. He then pulled out another syringe in the same way, loaded the needle into it, and put it in his pocket. Time passed.
" Just in case, baby, just in case." He glanced at me coolly. Adam had made me sit down back. I could feel drugs starting to kick in, but I kept my expression still neutral. Controlling my panic, not reacting at all.
I slowly began to feel everything slowing down, and it was suddenly very difficult to even try to think. Adam yanked me to my feet, and I tried to stand, staggered; my vision was blurring, swimming, and my muscles wouldn't work. I was more and more helpless by the second, and this time, this was not tolerable helplessness. It was an awful feeling again.
I could feel Bran opening Pack Bond ever so slightly, feeling my helplessness and distress. He smiled coldly, then stood up and came over to look.
" Mmm hmm, Mimi, are you feeling a bit confused? Hmm? Is it? I think this one is ready to get some jelly inside her."
He was very satisfied with my condition. He pushed me to my chest, causing me to stagger, and if Adam hadn't taken hold of me, I would have fallen over.