Chereads / Salvatore Saga, Part One:My life with Damon. / Chapter 416 - 15. Too Many Broken Hearts.

Chapter 416 - 15. Too Many Broken Hearts.

I'd been on this gig streak for ages; I had the money now to buy that castle in Kansas, the one I'd been coveting for a long time, and as soon as I get these few more gigs, a few more damn demon nests destroyed, then I'll take a break. Yeah, I don't have to go to the house or the pack, for that matter. Magnum announced there, put on another party a couple of days ago, and said they were having a fucking orgy.

Fuck 'em and dream of death for all I care, goddamn it. I got a message from Damon that if I buy the castle, he doesn't want to be a renovation man, so find someone to build the castle with me, because he is not going to do it. I had asked Damon several times to put the house up with me and no, not one time. Adam never had time. He would have come, but Bran wouldn't let him.

Damon used to nest with me, decorate and put up rooms but not anymore, I do not know why, was it just some sort first time love thing or what. he has not been interested in that stuff anymore. 

I was frustrated because I needed a man who could put in lights or look at some floorboards and I didn't bother to hire an outsider to do these jobs when they were the kind of things couples do together. I knew Damon could. I'd seen him, but he wouldn't bother. He's very lazy in that respect. I had this need to nest, to make a home and not hire someone to do things for me. 

I was in a hotel because here in Canada where I was there were no houses nearby, and my next purchase after the castle would be some house in Canada. These demons were nasty, poisonous demons. They could make nasty poisons and that's why I was getting such damn good money out of them from Reddington and others too when I killed.

I had few houses in Canada but then again, this mission was moving, meaning I had spent most of my time in my car driving one to another when these nests were everywhere. The reason I was not taking much backup was that these could kill humans with these freaking poisons so damn fast. 

These are also assassin demons. They poison their victims secretly, and the symptoms are black veins, pain, bleeding, and death. I had seen their victims, and they had given me a pretty damn good boost to do this job. Humans die very fast to these and so does the average werewolf, too. What comes to vampires? I am not so sure. 

Yes, yes, I still kill demons, even though I've been screamed at and drugged and programmed about it. I do what I have to do. The demons had given us a bit of a hard time over the years, and they did give a hard time to others in our pack, but since the whole pack hadn't gone through every freaking Europe gig so thoroughly and fought every fucking club against every goddamn demon, maybe they didn't have the drive for this. And when they didn't go to the missions, they didn't see the victims. They decided to close their eyes and look the other way partially.

And it was not my job to educate them about these guys. My job was to ensure that these guys would be eradicated, more or less. I was a flea, leader of my organization, but also an assassin and sniper too, a professional when it came to killing these bastards. I was just doing my job and getting paid quite handsomely for it. Even I was filthy rich, money kept on coming and it was good to have money and lots of it.

I ordered breakfast from room service and ate it with great anticipation. It was really tasty. Wagyu steak, mashed potatoes, wonderful white wine, my secret vice, good dry white wine. It didn't even have to be an alcoholic, as long as it was good. I went and lay down on the sofa for a while and enjoyed these little moments when I didn't need to dash anywhere at the moment.

A moment of peace and quiet, to laze around, to give me a brief break even when I knew I had still a lot to do. I got up from the sofa where I had been, to put my bag together, when I started to feel dizzy and my stomach started to feel awful.

The pain took over and squeezed my insides together. I know what it feels like to have Damon do that to me—squeeze my insides together. Just when he tried to program a long time ago not to kill demons because I'm prone to fear demons.

Well, these weren't fear demons. These were freaking poisonous demons. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead and when I saw the dark veins in my hand. Oh fuck. Poisoned with demon venom. I sat back down. Then I roll on my side and moan out loud before I get myself even a little to be able to act. Pain was immense, and I was not sure what this would do to me.

I managed to pick up the phone and call Samuel. "Mimi here, it is about argh... demon poison in food, it's .... hurts... Black veins in my hands, insides on fire, dizzy...."

Samuel was silent for a moment, " Where are you? You are in Canada, right? I'll send someone to help you. You won't have a nice next few days, but we'll see if we can get there in time. Give me the address, and Charles should be here in fifteen minutes. This will be a rough ride, but let's see if we can minimize the effect. "

I gave him the address and waited.

Samuel sighed and called his brother. This was not a good thing, but time was of the essence here. "Charles, it's Samuel. I know you don't have anything at the moment, and you're in Canada, so go help, Mimi. She's been poisoned by fucking poison demons. Listen carefully, here is what you do. There's a pharmacy in the hotel where I called your name to get the medicine. There's a prescription on every bottle. You give the vomiting medicine first." 

He paused, and Charles grunted. 

"You have to make Mimi vomit and vomit a lot. It's going to be tough, depending on how much of the poison is absorbed. That dose will guarantee it. You'll have to help Mimi after that time. She will be dehydrated, stressed, and tired. Maybe lethargic even. Try to get something down: fluids. There will be a rehydration kit. That kit comes with an electrolyte concentrate that you make a drink from. Only after 24 hours, when the vomiting is over, try to make her drink it. Then a sedative. You give it to the muscle because then Mimi needs to rest, and you know what kind of fierce little thing she is. Poison can affect her so damn fast and even Mimi is what she is. Those repairs will take a lot out of her and she could lose weight a lot if she is not kept resting. Once the sedative has worked, the tranquilizer. When Mimi wakes up, you repeat, feed, drink, rest. It's up to you to judge when Mimi is fit to continue, but I'd say 3-to five days. She should eat and be alert, not sleepy or tired at all once she is okay. "

Charles said, " Fine, then let's do it this way. When do I let you know if there are any problems?"

Samuel said, "Try a couple of days' rest. If there is no improvement at all or she is not eating or drinking, then call me, but remember, Charles, Mimi is then fucking cunning and can pretend quite convincingly to be in better shape than she is. Remember that. You have to be firm with her and be strict, no mercy."

The door to my room opened, and Charles came in. He trotted over to the couch I was slumped on.

He squatted down next to me, his presence looming over me, and said, his voice filled with a mix of concern and obligation, "Hey, you. What have you been up to? First of all, my apologies. I really don't want to do this to you, and it's not nice, but Samuel gave me instructions, so let's get to work."

As I braced myself, I felt a sharp prick as a needle sank into my arm, injecting something into my muscles. Charles got up, his movements gentle, and came to my side. He carefully adjusted my position on the couch, gathering my hair back and using a ribbon from his own hair to tie it up. Then he fetched a bucket and towels.

The smell of disinfectant filled the air, mixed with a tinge of anxiety. I felt the first wave of nausea building up, and I desperately reached for the bucket, my grip tightening as I started to vomit. And vomit. It seemed never-ending, pouring out in astonishing amounts. Soon, exhaustion washed over me, rendering me too weak to hold the bucket.

Charles, ever attentive, cradled me in his arms and held the container for me to expel into. Occasionally, he would leave to empty it, his footsteps echoing in the room. With a tender touch, he wiped my clammy forehead and whispered soothing words, offering a small semblance of comfort amidst the chaos.

I threw up a 24 hours. For the last four hours, I continued to vomit, the contents now tainted with clear blood, causing my stomach to churn even more violently.

Eventually, my body began to settle, but sporadic bouts of vomiting persisted as the blood disagreed with me. Drained and depleted, I laid down in Charles's arms, seeking solace in his embrace.

It had been a while since I last expelled anything, my body limp and fatigued, but I assured him, "Thanks, it's over now. I'll be fine. You see, no more veins, no more pain. Thank you for staying with me, but I won't hold you any longer."

Charles chuckled softly, a mix of sympathy and resignation evident in his laughter. "Samuel warned me about this, you know. Sorry, but honey, I have been given specific instructions. I must carry out what my brother has asked of me."

Gently, he lifted me and guided me to the bed, then returned with a glass of a cold, artificially flavored drink and a straw. "Try to consume this. It will help replenish your electrolytes."

I obediently sipped on the liquid, its icy temperature sending shivers down my spine, though the taste was far from natural. I managed to finish the entire glass, but my stomach rebelled, cramping in protest, and I refused anymore. Before I could react, Charles swiftly injected something into my arm.

He helped me settle under the covers, adjusting my position slightly, and urged me to rest. As the sedative took effect, I felt myself slipping into a drowsy state, almost asleep, when I suddenly felt another sharp prick. Then, everything faded into darkness.

When I eventually regained consciousness, I was compelled to consume a small amount of food and drink, but it was a struggle. After each attempt to eat or drink, when nothing really went down yet all I felt l was an injection, immediately plunging me back into unconsciousness. The passage of time became a blur, as I remained uncertain of how long Charles subjected me to this torment.

When I finally managed to eat a whole omelet and drink two glasses of orange juice, he decided to let me stay awake. I was thinking of having a rather forceful discussion with Samuel about this at some point. Charles explained to me that poison had done damage and Samuel had ordered this rest because it was easier and gentler for my body to recover and repair those damages done by poison. I didn't blame him. I thanked him. 

I looked at my phone. It had been a week. I called Damon, and no answer right away. Then some girl answered and said, Damon doesn't have time to talk to me whoever I was because he's fucking Gina now, so can you leave a message? I didn't. Same thing with Adam, no answer.

Charles told me that the entire pack knew about my poisoning, but they were partying, and it seemed to go on. That's when I decided to try ice with a stick. After all, I have a man in front of me who will help and rescue me, even if he's not asked.

I casually asked Charles, " Hey Charles, do you know anything about installing ceiling lights?"

Charles came over and sat on the bed next to me. " Why would you ask me that?"

I was embarrassed " Well, I have bought quite a few houses here and there over the years, and, for example, in Sicily, there is a lovely house, but I don't know how to install a ceiling light, the fuse always blows or the light breaks. I've asked Damon, but no, he told me to get an electrician. Adam might help, but he's grown attached to Bran again, that's why. I can get the electrician if you have something else. When there were not really pretty lamps, I wanted to get certain lamps. I have tried to learn from YouTube how to install it, but nothing is so clear about those ceilings and those wires. There seem to be different colors or too many wires of the same color. It is just not working. "

Charles laughed. He said, " Magnum took care of the rest of your gig. What do you say we go look at those light fittings before you burn your whole house down? And we won't take any installers. I'll put the lights back on if your pack doesn't care. "

I shut up and smiled. Charles was always there to help, no matter what his reputation was.

"I was thinking of buying a castle in Kansas, too. They don't have the lamps in there either or much of anything else," I said slyly.

Charles stood up and took my hand and said, " First Sicily, and then I can tell you if you're an electrician, and then we can, honey, together we can look at that Kansas castle. I feel like there are one or two things you could really use some help with. For me, if I am being honest, your pack is not fair to you. They are very eager to use every house in their fucking parties, but they don't really help you make them, right?"

I held out my hand and said, "No, they don't, but that is probably because it is something that they don't like to do, but, I have a nesting instinct. I like to put houses in order and decorate, and make nests. Let's go if you are sure that you want to witness my prowess as an electrician." 

Charles rolled his eyes, and it made him lose that toughness in his expression again, made him look very relaxed and also a little lonely. 

For some reason, when Charles called me Honey, it warmed my heart in a whole new way. As we were leaving, my phone rang. Damon. I answered the call and politely made my way through the fucking storm. He did want to spend time with me. Fine. We agreed to meet in Chicago.

Damon and I met in Chicago when he had called and begged to spend time with me. Fine, we both sat in the living room, and I watched as my husband sent naughty messages to his numerous fucks and called them and graphically described how he would take them. I got bored and went to the shower, only to be met by an agitated husband who started shouting at me when I wasn't jealous, and then he left, slamming the door. Fine for that kind of incident.