I took the driver's seat after we had paid for the order, and Mona was strapped to her seat. Damon was sitting next to me, Mariella in the backseat. I chose not to mention anything about the paparazzi situation, keeping my suspicions to myself as we started our 30-minute drive back home.
There was quite heavy tension in the car, with Damon and Mariella clearly waiting for my reaction to the paparazzi's attack. I remained neutral, focusing on driving, and tried not to dwell on the situation. I was good at maintaining my composure, and the babies were sleeping peacefully.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I noticed Mariella flirting with Damon, but I didn't intervene. Let them have their fun as they had no freaking idea. As I drove for five minutes, I cursed under my breath, realizing the seriousness of the situation. Damon had not read the threat reports, which mentioned that Sark and Krycheck used their AI and algorithms to monitor certain phrases on the internet, like "America's sweetheart," which had put me and my babies in a dangerous position. Fucking hell, I was pissed off as a freaking madwoman, but now it was not the time to react yet. I had to get us to safety first.
As I saw a van belonging to Sark pass us and drive ahead of our car, I knew we were being boxed in. Shit! It was time to call for backup, but first, I had to assess the number of chasers behind us. Though my tightened grip on the wheel revealed my heightened alertness, I tried to remain calm. The safety of the babies was my priority, knowing the high stakes involved if they were to be delivered to Sark. Shit, this was not good.
Realizing that our cover was blown and that we had babies with us, I knew our time was running out. The safest option would be to place the babies in a secure location as soon as possible. It pained me like hell to accept that I might not get to spend Christmas with them or witness their first steps. The reality of the fucking situation was sinking in, and tough decisions needed to be made swiftly.
I didn't say anything to Damon or Mariella as I pressed a button, and the display got bigger, showing a better view behind me and on the sides.
Mariella commented, "Oh, are you showing off with that fancy little display? It's a great view; we should have that in other cars, too."
I replied, "Well, this is my work car, so it has some upgrades courtesy of NSA."
Damon just grunted, not paying much attention to me or our surroundings, showing he wasn't as professional as I was. I felt it in my spine.
I opened a hatch, took a communication device and earpiece, slipped it into my ear, pressed a button on my console, and spoke in a low voice, "This is Special Agent Salvatore, 826810, requesting assistance."
The voice in my ear responded, "Affirmative, let me confirm 826810."
After a short wait, he said, "You are clear; we have your location. What's the issue?"
I explained, "I have four goblins and three armored cars full of jetis boxing me in."
The voice replied, "Let me confirm via satellite; hang on."
Damon looked at me sharply, paying attention to the rearview mirror, realizing the situation.
Mariella slowly said, "I didn't think... this is not good."
The voice on the comm said, "We have confirmed, MCU is ten minutes from your location. Can you hold on until then?"
I confirmed, "Roger that, I can hold on. There's no chance they can try to box us in sooner than 18 minutes, so I'll wait for MCU and possibly backup. My ETA until safety is 22 minutes."
He assured me, "Keep us in the loop if anything happens; help is on its way."
I requested, "I need additional security; one called Jackson Gibbs. He's a former flea and might be in Sark's sights. Keep it discreet but efficient." He responded, "Consider it done, Agent Salvatore."
I removed the comm device and earpiece, focusing on driving.
Damon admitted, "We blew it, I know that much, sorry."
I pointed out, "If only you had read the threat report, it mentioned about Sarks and Krycheck's new AI scouring certain keywords, like 'American sweetheart.' Alaric has found a way around it by writing it as 'American $weetheart,' meaning those AIs can't detect it well."
Mariella chimed in, "Oh, I thought it was just a fancy way to refer to your wealth," and I rolled my eyes.
Damon then asked, "What is MCU, and why are we waiting for it?"
I replied curtly, "Mobile command unit, a big truck serving as backup. Sarks have us cornered, with two vehicles in front and two behind. I have kids with me, so this is not good."
Mariella, looking apologetic, nodded as I advised her, "Next time, use your brain instead of jealousy before trying to teach me a lesson."
Damon admitted, "I'm at fault too, for not thinking and not reading those reports. When the fuck will I learn?"
He banged his fist on the console, creating a dent.
I rolled my eyes and said, "Please, no need to redecorate my car."
Damon grunted in irritation, and Mariella exclaimed, "This is bad! Are you sure we can get out of this? Should we alert the rest of the pack?"
I explained, "No, we wait for the MCU and backup to arrive. Let's see where we stand and hopefully make it home in one piece."
Damon glanced at me, his voice low as he inquired, "Is there more? What aren't you telling us?"
I took a deep breath, composing myself before responding with a softer tone, "We need to move the babies to the magic house as soon as possible. The Sarks are onto them and won't give up. It's risky for us to keep moving around because they might be able to track our teleportation and portal's energy signature. The Sarks are always watching for us. I refuse to end up in a non-stop orgy, watching 75% of the pack trying to boost the energy grid by fucking like rabbits when they attack. The babies must be relocated."
Mariella chimed in quietly, "I understand. It makes sense, but are you certain they can trace us?"
Damon remained silent, his face expressing a mix of emotions from anger to sorrow as he was losing his babies, having already missed so much time with them. There was a sense of acceptance, albeit a bitter one, and a logical determination.
I explained to him, "There's no way to mask our signature. I've consulted with Wulfe, Dresden, and Constantine. Once they know it, they'll find us. We must take action and face the consequences. I had hoped to witness their first steps and much more, but it seems I've already had enough."
My voice carried bitterness and anger.
Damon mentioned, "I've informed the pack. They are taking care of it. It's regrettable but necessary for the babies."
I wanted to lash out, to scream at him, feeling that it was more than just regrettable. Instead, I composed myself, trying to maintain a neutral expression as I focused on driving, awaiting the appearance of the MCU.
A few minutes later, an old and worn-out semi-truck with two trailers passed us, and I eased my grip on the wheel. The MCU was disguised to appear old, so they were handling the situation.
Damon remarked after a few minutes, "I haven't spotted your MCU yet. They should be here by now."
I offered a thin smile and replied, "They're behind us, that old rig with two trailers. That's the MCU, disguised to look rundown."
Mariella faintly commented, "Oh, I see it now. It really does look like an ancient truck."
I continued driving, and soon another truck emerged from a side road in front of us, followed by a few cars. It positioned itself right in front of the Sarks' van, with a steady stream of cars approaching from the opposite lane, blocking any chance for the van to pass. Seeing our backup made me smile.
About 50 burly bikers were driving, weaving in front of cars and next to them as there were now four lanes in this part of the road. One burly guy passed us right by with his huge Harley Davidson. It was chilly, but he had just a leather jacket, sunglasses on, and he raised his hand. I raised mine and smiled at him.
He drove right in front of us, protecting us. I could soon see others driving too, a little further, right behind Sark's van, directing him at MCU. There was a ramp shielded by magic, and Sark did not see it as they were pressured to drive faster. Soon, the truck seemed to swallow that van.
I could see from my display that they were doing the same kind of maneuver behind us, directing Sark's as well as Krychek's cars into the truck with utmost skill.
Damon said to me, "Friends of yours, those bikers. I have heard from Adam how you recruited them, and they look perfect for that."
I nodded and said, "Werewolf pack from Arkansas. They didn't want to be under Bran, so I took them in as fleas. As I got my gig in the NSA, I wanted them in my division, and they thrive there. They are really pros."
Damon nodded, his expression still grim and sulky. I looked at Mona and Mario, knowing this was goodbye, at least for now. But I was fine with it. Well, I had no other option but to be fine with that as I had to think of their safety, as that was what mattered, not my own needs or feelings.
Sure, in the future, there would be the next lot at some point, and after that, more. But I had learned now, with several of my babies, just how wonderful it is to be a mom, and it was a hard role to give up.
However, mothers always think the best for their babies, and it was a no-brainer for me as well. I knew they would be fine. I had such a wonderful time with them, making memories like no other. Perhaps one day we might meet again when they are all grown up. This is just how our lives are built.
Who knows, maybe someday we will have our babies for years - one can never know. It was less than ten minutes to the house, and our car was surrounded by bikers who kept us safe.
I drove at a moderate speed, reminiscing about my time with a motorbike. It was a fun and carefree time with its own set of problems, but it was my first taste of freedom - to drive by myself, to decide my destiny, and to have the ability to do my thing.
Those thrilling adventures called killing sprees were so exciting back then. Sure, I could do them again someday, but with a pack of this big and jealousy being an even bigger issue now, I wasn't sure if I could. Or perhaps the better question, even though it irked me to admit it, was whether I was allowed to do them anymore.
Would anyone in the pack tolerate my dressing in my gig attire, going in bars and hitting strangers even if it was to lure them to be killed in the alley? Time will tell, as it always does. I just had to be fucking patient and go with the freaking flow, like always.
Let's just say I was extremely angry enough for Damon to keep quiet, even though my mind was filled with curse words and opinions about him, Mariella, and their unfounded jealousy. Thoughts of Sarks and Krycheck also crossed my mind, some of which seemed biologically impossible, but I didn't care.
I made sure my anger was visible in my gaze and expression; it was no longer the time for me to pretend everything was okay. They needed to see the impact their actions had on me. It was their fault, not mine.
As we turned onto our road, we bid adieu to the bikers and continued on. I raised my hand once more, and I drove slower, with the shimmering bubble in the distance. I knew the NSA would have a field day interrogating Sarks and Krychecks, keeping them occupied so they wouldn't come after me with more mission suggestions.
I wasn't sure what I would do after resolving this crisis. It was likely that the Salvatores would head to Ireland for vampire heat and then to the Azores, but my plans were uncertain. I kept them secret, not sharing them with Damon.
Upon arriving at the house and passing through the bubble to park my car, Damon and Mariella sighed in relief. They weren't sure if we would make it despite our protection, but I had never considered the option of failure.
I had learned that dwelling on the worst-case scenario could inadvertently make it happen. I had sabotaged myself in the past, but I was determined not to let that happen again. I kept a clear mind, knowing that safety was the only outcome.
I didn't have time to exit the car before numbers two and four walked in and took the babies. As I got out, I noticed more people already waiting.
Damon and Mariella also got out, Damon putting his arm around Mariella's shoulders as she sighed. "I missed so many moments, I mistakenly thought I had time,"
Damon whispered to her, trying to comfort her. While I kept my pain hidden this time, it wouldn't stay concealed forever. Once the babies were okay, I would let it show. I felt the weight all the time but managed to function.
These were my very first children, not Derek, Christina, or Meredith, but Marc and Diana, as well as a few others. It would be bittersweet to see numbers two and four handing my little ones to them; they were thrilled to hold them, love evident in the air as it should be.
Walking closer, I smiled at them, and the girls came to hug me.
"You have an interesting time ahead; they grow and learn so quickly," I mentioned.
Juliet remarked, "Yeah, Magnum warned us about how chaotic bath time can be."
I nodded slightly and advised, "Well, it's quite cold out here, so you better get moving to ensure the little ones don't get too chilled, even though they're cool guys."
Mike smiled at me, and they started walking towards the magic house.
Number two informed number one, "The others have already left; these are the last ones."
Number one simply nodded as he and Mariella walked in. It marked the end of very happy times, and I couldn't help but feel that it had come again with a price for me to pay. Mariella, despite being initially saddened, quickly composed herself and was now in an alluring mood for Damon, who eagerly reciprocated.
I wasn't in the mood, but it was time to see what was next and face these challenging things called emotions and feelings.