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Mayhem:Federal Paranormal Agency 7(10)

By:Olivia Black


The sound of Emmett's beating heart slowed, bringing Dylan back to the here and now.

Lub dub … lub dub … lub dub … lub … dub … lub … and then there was nothing …

Dylan jerked back. He stared down at Emmett in horror. His True Match  was dead. There was no heartbeat, no movement. He just lay on the  gurney, stark white and limp.

Stephen pressed a needle into the vein at the crease of Emmett's arm. He  hooked up a bag of blood and squeezed. The red fluid flowed down the  tube into Emmett's body. When the first bag was empty, Stephen repeated  the process over and over again.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"He digested your blood before he died. Your vampire DNA is already  starting to heal him. I'm just pumping him up with human bagged blood to  help his body go through the transition. And I'm going to give him some  pain medication to keep him sedated."

"Will he experience any pain?" Dylan asked.

The transition to become a vampire was a dangerous one. That was the  reason it was against the law. Most of the time, humans died. Only a few  made it out alive. Becoming a vampire wasn't natural. Vampires were  born. They weren't made.

"I don't know. I don't have a lot of experience when it comes to humans transitioning into vampires."         

     



 

Dylan nodded in understanding. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Slice open a vein and pour your blood into his wounds. It should help him heal faster."

Dylan didn't ask any questions. He followed the doctor's orders. Lifting  his wrist to his mouth, he bit through his skin, opening his vein.  Dylan grabbed a handful of gauze covering Emmett's abdomen and tossed it  aside. He let his blood flow into the wounds. The skin slowly knitted  itself back together, the wounds sealing.





Chapter Nine




The van slowed and pulled off the main road. They'd been driving for an  hour. Emmett seemed to be healing, even though he was unconscious, but  it wasn't a big surprise considering the doctor had given him a strong  sedative. His color was coming back. He was no longer dead, nor was he a  sick, pasty white.

Dylan took his eyes off his True Match and looked out the windshield.  They drove under giant trees that flanked both sides of the long gravel  driveway, so tall that they touched in an arch shape overhead. Dylan  really liked the pack's property with its miles and miles of lush green  land. When the three-story white house with thick columns and a  wraparound porch came into view, he was finally able to breathe a sigh  of relief.

The van came to a stop in front of the house. Stephen opened the back  door, giving Dylan plenty of space to maneuver. He picked Emmett up and  stepped out. Dylan walked toward the front door, gravel crunching  beneath his boots with each step he took. He marched up the stairs  leading to the porch. The door swung open before he reached it.

"Alpha," he acknowledged.

"Dylan," Gideon said, stepping aside to give him space. "The guest rooms  are upstairs. Make yourself at home. I made contact with your team.  They know you're here, and they know you're safe."

"Thanks. I appreciate your help." Honestly, the last thing he'd been  thinking about was Max or Axel. "I was only thinking about Emmett."

"I know." Gideon nodded. "I just thought it might be better for everyone involved if they knew you and the FBI agent were safe."

"I'm going to clean him up. I'll come back downstairs to speak with you."

"Take your time."

Dylan left Gideon Channing, the pack Alpha, standing in the foyer. He  went up the stairs, taking two at a time. Dylan strode through the first  open door and into the adjoining bathroom. He stopped in front of the  large glass-enclosed shower. Dylan carefully situated Emmett so that the  man was on his own two feet. He removed what remained of Emmett's torn  clothing, dropping the bits of material to the floor. Dylan did his best  to remove his own clothes with one hand while holding Emmett upright  with the other.

When he was done, Dylan opened the shower door and turned the water on.  He tested the temperature with his hand. As soon as it was warm, he  stepped into the stall with Emmett. He kept one arm firmly wrapped  around Emmett's waist, holding his limp form against his own body. He  positioned his True Match under the spray, letting the water cascade  over his nude body. Blood and tiny shards of broken glass gathered at  their feet, swirling down the drain.

He grabbed a bottle of sandalwood-scented shower gel from the shelf. He  flicked the lid open with his thumb and poured a generous amount out  onto Emmett's chest before placing the bottle back where it belonged.  Dylan worked the soap into a lather, moving the thick gel over the man's  body, removing the rest of the blood. He rinsed Emmett off once more  and shut off the water.

Dylan pushed the shower stall door open. He grabbed a towel from the  rack and wrapped it around Emmett so that he wouldn't catch a chill. He  yanked the other towel free and blanketed the man. Walking back into the  bedroom, Dylan strode toward the bed. He laid Emmett down on the bed  and dried him off, dragging the towel over his flesh. When he was done,  Dylan placed Emmett under the covers and tucked the blankets up under  his chin.

He grabbed one of the damp towels and dried himself off. Dylan stood  beside the bed, watching Emmett as he went through the change. His body  put up a fight, trying to reject the inevitable, but it was pointless.  He would go through the transition, and he would become a vampire. In  the end, Dylan could only hope that Emmett was strong enough to make it  to the other side.

Emmett moved on the bed, muscles twitching and body jerking as he fought  the fever. His skin was bright red as the transformation worked its way  through his system, reshaping him. He would turn from an ordinary human  into a powerful vampire. Beneath Emmett's skin, his muscles were  shifting and stretching, the cells multiplying as his internal system  changed, enabling him to digest blood as food.         

     



 

Dylan wasn't sure how long the process would take, but he was looking  forward to seeing Emmett's beautiful green eyes once he was conscious.

"Fight," Dylan begged in a low voice. "You need to fight to stay alive. I need you."

He didn't want to leave Emmett's side, not during this crucial time, but  there were things he needed to do before his True Match woke up. Dylan  scrubbed a hand down his face. He was exhausted. And that was saying a  lot for a vampire.

Turning on his heel, Dylan walked over to the dresser. He opened the  second drawer and pulled out a pair of black sweat pants and a white  T-shirt. It was a good thing that the pack kept extra clothes around for  guests.

He took one last look at Emmett before leaving the bedroom, closing the  door behind him. Dylan made his way downstairs. When he reached the  bottom, he looked around. A noise from the kitchen drew his attention,  and Dylan headed in that direction. He found Gideon leaning against the  counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Are you okay?" Gideon asked.

"I knew he was close to death. I gave him my blood, hoping that he would heal, but now, he's going through the change."

"From what Stephen said, it was the only way to save him."

"We might need to stay in your territory for a while. I can't take  Emmett back to New York. I don't know if I'll ever be able to go back.  Changing someone, even a True Match, isn't allowed."

"That's an old law. I'm sure your team would understand. I doubt you would face any consequences."

Dylan shook his head. "I can't think about that right now."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it, Alpha. Listen, I don't know how  Emmett is going to react to the change, but I'll watch over him."

"I'm not worried about it. He's your True Match. He'll only crave your blood."

"I wasn't worried about him feeding on you. I'm worried about his  emotional state. All of his senses will be heightened. He'll be overly  emotional. And I'm not sure how he's going to react to this whole  situation."

"Then you should be there when he wakes up."

"I will be," Dylan promised. "But first, I need to borrow a phone."

"First"-Gideon gave him a pointed look-"you need to tell me about the  attack on my club. My priority is my pack. Now that I've helped you, I  need some information. Are we safe?"

"Mahmood Yassin is the bomber. He's a human. It's not within my  authority to punish him, but Homeland Security and ATF should have him  in custody by now. Your club wasn't his target. Mahmood set it all up so  he could kill his son."

"His son?"

Dylan nodded "He went to your club with a backpack. At first, we thought  he might be a suicide bomber, but when I spoke to his friend and his  brother, I learned the truth. His father hated him for being gay. The  man planted the device. He's the one responsible."