11. Satelites.

I stretched out on the plush bed, my body sinking into the softness as I watched Damon meticulously dress himself. The dim morning light barely filtered through the closed curtains, creating a serene atmosphere in the downtown New York hotel room. Damon's movements were efficient, accentuating the perfect contours of his muscles rippling beneath his skin.

The sight stirred a primal desire within me, causing a subtle warmth to spread between my thighs. As he dressed, Damon sipped from a couple of blood bags, the metallic scent mingling with the sweet aroma of strawberries and champagne that lingered in the air.

His nostrils flared, capturing the enticing fragrance, and he locked eyes with me, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Baby, take a shower, resist your seductive ways, dress yourself, and join me for breakfast. Your bloods are simply delicious," he playfully remarked.

I couldn't help but smile. My gaze fixated on the captivating view of his departing figure, particularly his alluring rear end. As Damon disappeared into the kitchen to prepare our meal, I rose from the bed and made my way to the shower.

After luxuriating under the warm water, I handpicked a pink satin button-down shirt and a form-fitting purple leather skirt that gracefully fell to my knees. With my hair still damp, I transformed my appearance, opting for dark, blood-red curls that cascaded down to my waist. I allowed the curls to bounce and sway freely, securing only a simple hairband to keep them from obstructing my view.

I knew Damon had a penchant for styling my hair, and I relished the thought of presenting him with new possibilities. With a pair of high-heeled sandals adorning my feet and a recent online purchase, I completed my ensemble, ready to embark on whatever adventures awaited us.

As I walked calmly to breakfast, the click of my footsteps echoed on the shiny parquet floor, resonating through the air. The enticing smells and comforting sounds of breakfast already filled the kitchen, tantalizing my senses. Although my hunger was absent, the aroma of the food was captivating, and I eagerly expected to indulge in it.

Damon's gaze met mine, initially sharp but then softening, his expression taking on a slightly predatory edge. I had adorned myself with meticulous makeup, presenting an innocent facade. Yet, the way my satin shirt grazed my nipples left them subtly exposed. However, I refused to be an easy target today. I was determined to assert control, adhering to the unspoken rule that while Damon could look, he couldn't touch. Today would be the pinnacle of Damon's self-restraint, a day where I might hold more sway over the situation. It promised to be a remarkable day.

Damon's eyebrow arched as he observed me, and I raised mine in response, accepting his unspoken challenge. Taking my place at the table, my eyes were met with a grand spread of food, coffee, and Coca-Cola already arranged before me. Not a single bottle of Palma was in sight. We began breakfast, consuming our meal in silence. After some time, Damon glanced up from the phone he had been engrossed in all morning, his "girl phone."

In a commanding tone, Damon declared, "Fine. Today we are going to the carnival. You will meet my girlfriends–around 50 to 60 of them, all vampires. This is a vampire spectacle, darling, so sit back, marvel, and conceal your true identity. I'll ensure you have a front-row seat. We shall venture to the club tonight, and you can continue your observations. Meanwhile, I will address your vampire side, my darlin', for it appears to be too surface-level. Fear not, I won't weaken you, but I will show to your vampire nature that it cannot emerge without my permission. It won't be overly painful, my darling, at least not excessively so."

Damon's voice resonated with pleasure and danger, its calmness and softness once again captivating my attention. Oh yeah, we have the darling side on display, fine I don't mind that.

I looked Damon long and calmly in the eye, the intensity of our gaze unbroken. The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of distant conversation.

"Fine," I breathed, my voice barely audible. "I'll be the observer then. What do you say? Is just a headband enough, or should I put my hair up a bit? How windy is it going to be?"

Only now did Damon seem to register my hair. His eyes lingered on it for a moment, and then he rose from the table. He walked behind me, his footsteps barely audible, and gently picked up a strand of my hair, bringing it close to his nose. The scent of my shampoo filled the air as he inhaled deeply.

Then, with deliberate care, he styled my hair. I could feel his concentration as he sifted through my thoughts, considering different hairstyles. It was an odd sensation, as he took those ideas for himself, leaving no trace of them in my mind. Meanwhile, Mimosa slumbered peacefully in the recesses of my thoughts. Damon deftly braided my hair into a bun, his touch gentle yet purposeful.

He stepped back, satisfied with his work.

"You know," he said, his voice low and intimate, "you'll have to let your hair down at the club. It's simply stunning, darling. But for now, let me do your makeup." He nuzzled my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and took a small sip of my blood, teasing me with his vampire nature.

After finishing our meal, we went to the private elevator. The doors closed, enclosing us in a hushed cocoon. As we descended, the soft whir of the elevator filled the air. Stepping out into the hotel driveway, I saw our gleaming Rolls-Royce waiting for us. I knew I had to clean out the trunk, as it contained a mishmash of items–medical samples, adrenaline implants, and other equipment Reddington had stashed away in bank vaults.

When he walked over to the trunk, Damon hadn't entered the car yet. "Come on," he said, his voice commanding yet gentle. "Open the locker and let me see what we have at our disposal, just in case."

The car glided smoothly into the hotel driveway, and Adam, our companion, stepped out. "It looks like you have your own hotel," he remarked with a smile. "Don't worry; we can register it under the pack's name. Then we'll figure out our next move."

I nodded in agreement. Adam looked at me quizzically, and I opened the trunk wide with a resigned sigh. Damon nudged me aside, leaving me with no choice but to step away. The men rummaged through the contents of the trunk. I walked a short distance away, seeking solace in my phone. As I sat down on a nearby bench, I absentmindedly scrolled through my messages, oblivious to the activity happening behind me. It wasn't until Magnum, who had accompanied Adam, joined in the search that I realized they were inspecting my supplies. 

Damon approached me with a determined stride, his voice cutting through the air as he said, "Baby, that's truly amazing and absolutely necessary. We need to figure out a system to transport those supplies to the pack houses. By the way, have you had those adrenaline implants for a while? You never mentioned them."

His words pierced through me, and I nodded in response. "Yeah, ever since the lockers came my way a few years ago," I replied.

Damon took a deep breath, frustration clear as he ran his hand through his hair, desperately trying to maintain his composure.

"I understand you don't always trust me, and sometimes with good reason. But damn it, if I had known about those implants, I wouldn't have resorted to stalking and chasing you. I didn't know," he confessed.

I shrugged, meeting his gaze. "Well, I don't always disclose everything to you, and sometimes I forget to mention it to Adam or Samuel, too."

Damon nodded, accepting my explanation. "Alright, let's move on. Adam and Magnum will handle the supplies. We should go through them together. It's clear that you've emptied your lockers," he stated.

Once again, I nodded in agreement. Damon continued, his voice calm but authoritative, "But now we'll take my car. Magnum has a few questions for you. Shall we have a little chat?"

I sighed, realizing I had no choice. Magnum was curious about the creator of the locker and where he could gain them.

I reluctantly shared the name of the flea and added, "He might not assist you, so don't get your hopes up."

There was a brief silence as Magnum processed the information. He then suggested, "You should program someone else to open the locker in case you find yourself in a tight spot and can't do it yourself. Just a precaution."

I smiled, considering his advice. "I'll think about it, but for now, I'll keep these supplies for myself. They're mine to access," I replied.

Adam looked at me, his expression hinting at something unsaid, but he chose not to voice it. My phone beeped as I organized the flea items, demanding my attention. I had put quite a lot of gigs in order, and there was still work to be done.

I reached for my work phone, and Damon shot a sharp glance at Adam, who promptly snatched the device from my hand. "I'm your second in command again, so hand over the work stuff," Adam asserted.

I couldn't do anything but comply. I noticed my locker had been emptied, but I wasn't concerned. My filling department always restocks it. Magnum brought several sports bags from the car, eager to fill them with the supplies. 

We went into Damon's car after I had closed my very empty locker. 

Adam and Magnum were now carrying my supplies in the bags to their car and talking amongst themselves. I saw Adam walk into the hotel then.

We set off on a journey towards a massive amusement park, and during the ride, Damon remained quiet, lost in his thoughts. As we approached our destination, I could sense a palpable energy in the air, and I knew Damon was preparing himself for something big. I was curious to see what he had up his sleeve.

Upon arriving at the park, the vibrant atmosphere struck me. Even though it was still winter, the warmth of the sun was enough to draw a large crowd. The park was teeming with sounds of children's laughter and the chatter of adults. Damon walked beside me, his eyes scanning the surroundings, and I could tell he was already on the lookout for potential dating prospects. Meanwhile, Mimosa, my wolf, was eager for me to win her a stuffed animal at one booth.

As we wandered around the park, the tantalizing aroma of carnival treats like popcorn and cotton candy wafted through the air. I watched with admiration as children excitedly went on rides, but I didn't have the nerve to try any of them, preferring to stay grounded. Damon's energy level was increasing, and he periodically checked his watch. It was almost noon, and I could tell that he had something planned.

Damon led me to a bench with a perfect view of a water feature, a fountain with a mermaid statue. Couples were swirling around the fountain, throwing coins, and kissing passionately. It was a romantic spot, and I watched in awe as Damon relaxed on another bench across from me.

In my mind, Damon spoke. "The show is about to start, darling. Let me know what you think." As the fountain came to life, I sat back and took in all the sights and sounds, savoring every moment of this exhilarating day.

When the clock struck noon, the sun high in the sky, the first lady approached—a tall, slender, brunette with an air of mystery. Damon slowly rose from his seat, his movements lazy yet calculated, as the woman made her way towards him. With a tender embrace, Damon enveloped her in his arms and their lips met in a passionate kiss. Their conversation flowed, accompanied by Damon's soothing, low voice, that oozed with a seductive charm. Unbeknownst to her, danger lurked beneath his gentle words.

Guiding her closer, Damon caressed her, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "Relax," he whispered reassuringly. "Shh. Just focus on my heartbeat. Shh. My darling, stay right here, everything will be alright."

The woman melted into his touch, sighing contentedly as Damon continued to lull her into a false sense of security. Little did she know, Damon had a sinister plan.

With a swift motion, Damon's claw sliced open her jugular, leaving a fragment of his nail embedded in the wound, ensuring a constant flow of blood. Yet, his icy demeanor remained unchanged. Placing his other hand under her shirt, Damon pushed his hand through her back, the sound of cracking ribs piercing the air. Fear consumed the woman as her body trembled, realizing the true nature of the man she thought she knew.

Methodically and without remorse, Damon callously dug her heart out of her back. A chill ran down my spine as I witnessed this gruesome act. As her life force faded, Damon pushed her back slightly before she disintegrated into ash.

One by one, Damon repeated this macabre ritual, his victims lured to him by a strange and desperate desire for his help. The facade of the perfect boyfriend quickly dissolved, replaced by the sadistic pleasure he derived from toying with his prey.

I couldn't help but wonder how many others had suffered the same fate and whether Damon would ever be caught. Vampires would turn to ashes, but humans would become lifeless corpses. His victims, both vampire and human alike, were merely pawns in his twisted game. Every name on his lady phone, each one doomed to meet a similar end.

I pondered the fate of the woman I had saved, unsure if it had been a stroke of luck or if it had been part of Damon's plan all along. This ritual, different from the one I had witnessed in the shed, brought Damon immense pleasure, a satisfaction that sent chills down my spine. 

This was Damon's stress release, his release of pressure. I let him do what he wanted, and I watched other people. He was enjoying himself so fucking much. He was preying; he was really the spider that was weaving all these women in his web. I let my pretender side enjoy, too.

I noticed how I adopted new habits and roles that went into the library I had in my mind. It was nice to let that side of me be on display. It brought satisfaction to me, too. And then I was reminded of our wedding night, and how he did the same thing for me. How perfect or actually imperfect a victim I am when I can't be killed.

Or every time he's given a lesson, there's always fear and terror and stabbing, slashing open the neck. I'm just left wondering, but what is the most important thing about that ritual? The fear and terror or the fact that he kills her at the end. I was left to ponder that for a while.

I pondered my own killer side as well. Will I have somekind of ritual in the future, in few centuries, my vampire side was strong, brutally so and it could be that one day, I would seek victims to play with too. Killing them just fun for it. Somehow the idea was not horrifying, not at all and part of me knew that I had learned to accept at least partially that side of me.

 It was getting pretty late, and the evening was getting darker as Damon finished off the last of his victims.

He came up to me and said, "Darling, what do you think now?"

His voice was still soft, and I could see the wind carrying the ashes of the vampire women. Damon had used his pack magic so people wouldn't notice what he was doing.

I looked at Damon and asked, curious as I was. " What's more important, that the victim dies or that fear and terror. What about the bloodshed?"

Damon laughed and said, "I should have known you would start analyzing my little hobby so closely. I just don't know. That's how it's supposed to be done, then it's done right, but I can kill vampire bitches without my ritual. It just doesn't give me that kind of peace of mind." I nodded.

Damon helped me up, and we went to the car. The destination was now the New York mansion, not my hotel. Now it was time to go to the club.

I have my own dark side, and its needs, but it is not yet too bad, and I do unleash it to baddies, so I am not killing innocents or those who don't deserve it. But let's just say that my dear husband keeps me in very tight leash what it comes to my dark side, he makes sure that I am not having too much fun or too often. This is damon ritual still, he sometimes collects women, so he has always good pool of them to select.

I have written my book for years so this is long long project and things chance from time to time. I have my pack with me reading and telling to me what to write or what not.