37. Come on, Eileen

So when Damon announced that we were meeting up at the Australian ranch, after four months in the Azores, I thought, "I wonder if I can even be in the pack again."

I had gotten some information about that book, and it was not too simple. First up, there were 13 books in the world, each one of them unique. Damien had gotten one as he had been in Damon's body, meaning Damon's magic or Mariella's would not work. So it was better not to tell them about this, at least not yet. I needed to bind the life force that he had put in that book with my hatred, and for that, I needed a potion.

My best bet for the potion-making was Constantine as he dabbled in quite darn dark stuff, but I guess Dresden would do too. I would have hate, and they would then give me a potion that would make my hatred for Damien ooze out from my fingertips and I needed to be my most dangerous when I did this so my hatred would be strong enough. Again, tapping to my killer side was not so wise, but it would be a must. 

Before I could even plan to make any potion, there was the biggest complication, or easiest. It depends on how you look at it. I needed to know what book it was. I would have to capture Damien, interrogate him, and get that information out of him. I could do it, I could. Again, my dark side would be crucial. And I should do this all behind Damon and Pack's back, and I knew that they were less happy about that. But I would do it anyway. So I had put the request for my friends to capture Damien. Alive if possible, and I had given a few locations on them. I had also asked even for earlier other victims for me so if they would get them, all the better. 

Now I had to bury this knowledge deep in my mind, make my plans, and see what was coming in this pack life. I hoped that their vacation would have given them a lovely time. A pack life would be relatively smooth and they would not pay too much attention to me.

I'd done so much on my own and been on my own that returning to the pack was even a little anxiety-provoking. I had gotten so much stuff. I had had so a lovely time being alone and I was not ready to be a good little girl.

I had Elena with me all the time and she was already wondering about everything. She was also an outstanding student of how to disobey Damon if I didn't want to. I had been doing many things and eating quite well. I wasn't a skinny little thing, but I hadn't really put any effort into being in top shape. Elena had been a wonderful companion, but I had not told her about my plans for how to get rid of Damien. 

I had put my pleasure first, not my top fitness, as I was no longer the leader of my organization, so there was no need for me to keep my fitness on top all the time. There was no threat of going on missions. I was free to enjoy life.

Then I went to the ranch and counted once and again and found that the number of Damon's had increased by another one. Now, there are five of them. And this number five seemed to be of the same type as the two, so don't approach them too easily.

Even number two and I had spark and he had been a little bit all over the place. I did not fully trust him. Number five was seducing Mariela, looking at me at times to see if I was jealous. Nope. well, I went, wrapped myself around Charles, kissed him long and hard, and bit him, marking him as mine. Mariella was less pleased with this, as was Number One. But Elena had given me the idea.

And number one seemed to be in the mood to inspire more sentences out of me. I kept my expression under control and I was silent. Even I had so many good sentences in my mind, in my hiding place, where Damon could not get in. For example, he was the king of dicks, the ultimate cock. I was in the mood for some examples about his hobbies in bed and not much elsewhere. 

Elena said, " Just one is enough, and now there are five."

I replied in my mind, " Thank goodness there is Mariella. And wolves too."

Elena burst out laughing. At least I get to practice my self-control. We went downstairs to eat, and I went myself and got my food and put it in the oven. I had blonde hair, a red silk shirt, black jeans, and high-heeled boots. These were real cowboy boots with spurs, and these were good on my feet. I bought a few pairs of men's boots too with silver spurs, and one idea of mine was to make my own summer wine, as per the song.

Mariella had long red hair, a satin dress, violet, and no panties or bra. She looked at my boots at first, almost despising, but then Damon whispered something to her. She was soon jealous. My boots, not sharing, besides she does not need any boots as she is in most of the time in bed, legs spread, under the sea of Damons. That remark made Elena burst into laughter and she could not stop laughing for a long time. Oh, my god that my expression needed some serious self-restraint. 

Mariella was having another season of helplessness, which was to say she just sat there and Damon served. I don't need that. I can get so much done myself when I do, and quickly—no need to wait.

My boots jingled, or my spurs jingled as I made my way into the fridge. I got my drink next, took my food out of the oven, and put it on the table. This was the meal of Damon's choice, and then I always had a treat on top of that at every meal. Now, it was my turn for the multi-meat quiche. I had baked quite a lot on my holiday too, so I had plenty of treats. 

So this had all the meat pieces, shredded in it because one farm had these huge vats full of meat cuts that were left over when you cut them up, and you could make sausage or something. I'd taken the shredded meat and left it pretty coarse after I'd chopped it up a bit.

Then this quiche had onions in it, and egg milk. I'd made a lot of these little pies, and these knew how to be tasty. I thought pizzas were often dry, so they didn't hit the spot, but these did. The whole pie would go through, and I hadn't even chopped it up yet after I heated it. I was not in my best shape yet, so everything I was consuming would be welcome. 

I made also a slushie for myself, fresh strawberry puree, bump, unscented, neutral tasting, a little bit of dry white wine, ice, and a dash of freshly squeezed orange juice. I had this in about 700ml huge glass with thick straw. 

Damon was concentrating on Mariella, but the five saw my treat and looked at it with very great interest. Fine. I paid no attention as I went to eat and drank my coffee and Coca-Cola. I had my slushie, ice-cold perfection. Then, I was soon ready to eat my treat. This was always the highlight of my day. My pies were made perfect for me and they were not light, so they had plenty of calories in form that my body could use. 

Suddenly Mariella looked at me and saw my pie, and her eyebrows furrowed. And my huge glass, my ice-cold treat too.

She asked, " My wife, what on earth are you eating? It's not from your shelf, is it? And what is that huge jug in front of you? Do you have wine in there?"

I said, " No, it's not. It's in the treat category. My drink is part of a treat, my slushie, yep there is good expensive white wine in there too, unscented bump, strawberry puree, etc."

Damon had made me a feeding guide, or it was almost a book, and from the approximate way it went, it was pretty much spot on. I had had it a long time, and he updated it more or less regularly. But when I was allowed treats, there was always a set amount. I made sure I ate what I was supposed to, and then it was always the treats. There was a list of treats, but then there was the guide to how to make food for me, so I used it as I had made my pies. And my drink too.

Damon looked up from his plate alerted by Mariella's inquiry just to check if I had made something too yummy and Mariella was jealous. And then he looked at the pie I was about to cut. He must have also noticed what a good deal I had made and reserved a wonderful space for myself to eat. Meaning I had moved my chair well away from his and I had space to eat in my peace without him reaching for my food.

Damon sighed and said, "I don't remember putting a whole quiche in your treat category. Or maybe you're just going to have a little slice? That's way too many carbs for just the base, and I haven't tasted that, have I? And that drink? Have I given my permission for that? I have not yet analyzed in-depth alcohol in your system and that wine is strong. Those strawberries have fiber in them again. Where is the cream? Bump, you have used, is it mine or Charles's?"

I said, " The base is thin, probably nonexistent, and made from perfectly legal foods. It's a treat. It is done with nut flour. Bump in the unscented tank, I do not know whose it is. There is not that much wine in there or strawberries." I was defending my treat that I was about to devour, and my drink, too. 

Damon stood up, reached over, and pulled the whole pie out in front of him, and took my glass as well, sipped from it, smelled my quiche, cut a piece off, and ate it. Then he gave Mariela and number two a piece, too.

I thought, "Thank God that's not the only pie. I can make another slushie as well."

I had made plenty of my treats and I had stock for them, so let them taste it and see it is a treat.

Number two said, " This is some kind of mixed meat, and it's not ideal for you, not at all. If you make a pie, use good meat. There's too much base, nut four is not the only ingredient there are carbs in that too and it will clog your intestines if you're still eating this almost every day. Now I could say that your bowels are pretty nice and full, and your shit is always a work in progress."

Damon said as he had almost drank my whole slushie, "Way too cold, too much alcohol for you to have every day, and too much fiber. Bump is Adam's, not enough fat. Again, you are making a blocked gut to yourself. You must be quite impacted, not shitting too much. "

He stood up, walked to the fridge, brought a can of ready whipped cream, and ate it quite a lot just like that, looking at Mariella until she was less angry. 

Well, when it comes to shit, it was a bit hard, but it had always come out by now. Plus, I'd been in cat form and eating small animals, which passed stuff out. They were good at making me shit.

Number one said, sighing, " Come over here, and we'll have a little grope. Then we'll see what the situation is."

I got up and was satisfied because I had shat in the morning. And quite a load, too. Damon started pressing on my stomach, and Mariella came too. She felt me up too. They looked at each other.

Number one looked at me and said, " Borderline, you might get shit all out, but it won't be painless then. I will give you a very strong laxative after you have drunk plenty. Then you have until tomorrow to empty, and if you don't or there's a complication before then, the operating theatre will call. I know what I am talking about, baby, as I have been myself in this situation, and Mariella can testify to it. As you see, she is bringing me more to drink as I eat your pie. Carbs aren't good for me either, not in much. I had that cream just to get that fiber from those strawberries moving."

I sat down, and Damon brought drinks for me too. Then I started drinking, and I wasn't supposed to eat anything for the rest of the day. I drank five liters of liquids, and Damon sank his teeth into my neck and poured something down into my veins.

He looked at me and said, " Let's see if you can make this work. I can't, I never will."

Mariella nodded and said, " Let's just say I've dissected this bowel quite a fucking lot of times when it gets blocked up with shit. I hope he is not going to be blocked again."

I was still surprised. Mariella said sourly and looked at Adam and Charles. " And this isn't the only one. Sometimes, I feel like I'm about to cut the guts out of an entire pack somewhere in between."

Mariella looked at me for a moment and said, "I hope I don't have to cut your bowels, too. Just try to get it all out since you've been eating nothing but regular food. I mean, have you been out in cat form?"

I nodded and said, "I have eaten little, mostly mice and voles when I've been practicing my serval and ocelot. And my other feline form that comes to my mind."

Mariella looked at me for a moment and said, "Oh, well, let's hope they cause no more problems, but you have 24 hours, then the honey will have to cut if you haven't got most of it out already. And Mimi, don't operate yourself. Your gut is full of germs and we don't need infection here."

I nodded and went off to find one of the pleasant bedrooms. I used my finder's radar, found one hidden room, and decorated it. After a couple of hours, my stomach started growling, and I went to the bathroom. It was time to shit and a lot of it.

After that fact I thought, yes, you can fit a pretty fucking fat one out from there too, but as long as it comes out. After the third time, there was always clear blood, but that's to be expected. Then it ran out, and I was happy. My asshole was quite damn sore for an hour or a little more, but my healing kicked in.

There was no more need and no matter how much I squeezed, nothing came out. I kept going and spent the entire night putting the rooms in order. Elena was so much fun to be with that I told her my sentences, which she criticized. She helped me make my sentences even better, so I had to put them in my hideout so Damon would not snatch them from my mind just by accident. 

She promised that if she ever got into her own body, she would try not to use them, but when a couple of phrases were so effective, I felt like doing a bit of reciting when the time was right. It was good to have really nice hideout. It was good to have a lot of reserved sentences it if ever comes to it and let's see what this pack life will be like. 

There was another nice hallway with rooms, and quite a few Charles/Adam rooms came in. Well, I was not making room for Damon because I knew he could not take it. Even if he would whine and complain, I knew the outcome, so no, I did make them. Not want to break my heart. Then I went to breakfast, satisfied.

Number One and Mariella were already waiting. I went to stand in front of him and Number One was feeling around and furrowing his brow quite a lot and trying to tie my bowels in knots. Mariella too. I was already planning what to have for breakfast as well. 

Damon looked at me, felt my forehead, and said, " We're going to medbay now. How come you haven't noticed you've got a ruptured bowel? Now that shit's been in your stomach for hours, you're not hot, but I can't guarantee it won't get infected."

Fine, that's news to me. There had been no pain or any feeling of sickness, so maybe I would be fine. Maybe my shit is sterile or something. 

Damon teleported me to medbay and gave Mariella a quick referral while he fiddled with the computer for a while. Then he got the cannula and came to cannulate my central line. He was working now quite fast, not talking much as he was worried about infection.

He then went to the medicine cabinet and collected jars from three different compartments, carried them to one of the small tables, and took syringes and needles from the top cupboard and a couple of fluid bags from the bottom cupboard. Then he drew one substance at a time into each syringe again to teleport the medicine back to its compartment. Then he finished the bags, and he had two syringes still on the left. He took one of them, came over to me, put the syringe in my cannula, and pushed the plunger, saying, "Sleepytime, baby."