Dylan shook his head, rejecting the agent's claim. "This whole place is set up to cause fear. That's never going to get you the truth."
"What do you suggest?"
"You have to change the environment. And you need me. I'm a paranormal. I can sense emotions and read people better than any human. I'll talk to Thaamir, and then we'll get the answers we need." When he didn't receive a response, Dylan continued, "Do you want to find the person responsible for the bombings or not?"
"Fine." He shrugged. "Let's try it your way, but when it doesn't work, it will be my turn."
Dylan strode into the interrogation room. He grabbed hold of the first zip tie around the man's right wrist and ripped it off. The thick piece of plastic fell away without much difficulty. Dylan removed the rest, helping the other man to sit more comfortably.
"I'm sorry about the bad conditions."
"I know about bad conditions. I spent most of my childhood in Iran. When my mother was killed, we came here to the United States looking for freedom."
"What do you know about the bombs?" Emmett asked, getting straight to the point.
"Nothing." Thaamir shook his head rapidly. "I swear. I had nothing to do with the bombings."
"Did you know your brother was gay?" Dylan questioned, watching Thaamir closely for a response.
"Yes, of course. We don't have any secrets between us."
"And it didn't bother you?"
"No, it didn't bother me. He's my brother."
Dylan had to admit he was surprised since homosexuality in Iran was a crime punishable by imprisonment, corporal punishment, or execution. He didn't believe that terrorism was the motive behind the bombings but killing Glenn and his friends because they were gay. That he could believe, especially due to the laws in Iran.
"What about your father?"
"My father had some difficulty. For many years he wouldn't accept my brother, but he was finally starting to come around. I believe he was starting to accept Glenn."
"Why do you believe that?"
"He bought Glenn and his friends some gifts. I delivered them to the hotel before they arrived. It was a token of love, a way for my father to reach out to Glenn after so many years of our family being separated."
"What kind of gifts?"
"Backpacks," he simply stated. "He filled them with gifts and cash. He wanted Glenn and friends to have a good time while they were in town."
"Oh my God," Emmett whispered under his breath.
Dylan glanced toward Emmett. It seemed that they had both come to the same conclusion. Glenn's father was the one responsible for this mess. He'd killed innocent people, but the real target was Glenn and his friends. Dylan knew the reason. It was because the young men were gay. Setting this whole situation up as if they were suicide bombers had worked. It led everyone away from the truth.
"You don't think … " Thaamir started. "No, no way. He wouldn't," he paused before gasping. "He did."
Moisture filled Thaamir's eyes, and tears leaked down his cheeks. He lifted his hands and covered his face, sobbing openly. The poor man was distraught. Dylan reached out. He touched Thaamir's shoulder, trying to offer some support while the other man fell apart. After several minutes, he started to calm down a little bit.
"I'm sorry to have to ask this, but do you know where your father is?"
Thaamir sniffled. "I don't know. He could be anywhere."
"We need a home and work address, and the names of any other places he might be hiding. Anything you can give us will be helpful."
"Fine." He nodded. "I just need a notepad and a pen."
Agent McKinney reached past Dylan and handed Thaamir a notepad and pen. "We appreciate your cooperation."
Thaamir scoffed. He merely shook his head. Thaamir flicked the lid off the pen and started writing. He wrote down the addresses, along with a list of every place his father frequented.
Dylan couldn't even begin to understand how difficult this whole situation must be for Thaamir. The man had just lost his brother, and his father was the one responsible. That was a heavy burden to carry, the guilt and pain, and he would be shouldering it for the rest of his life.
"Here." he handed the list to Dylan. "My father's name is Mahmood Yassin. There's a picture in my wallet. He deserves to get caught, but I want him to get arrested. I don't want my father dead. He deserves to go to prison for what he's done to my brother."
"I know," Dylan agreed. "That's the outcome we all want."
"Can you guarantee my father's safety?"
Dylan looked at the other agents who were present. Each one nodded. They wanted to arrest Mahmood so that they could parade him through a courtroom for the citizens of New Orleans. They all wanted justice.
"Yes, I can."
"Thank you for treating me with respect." Thaamir stood. "I'm grateful that you stepped in and talked with me. You're the only one who believed me."
Thaamir held out his hand, and Dylan took it. "We'll have a patrol car take you home."
"Thanks. I'd appreciate that."
Thaamir walked out of the room, and Dylan watched him go. He had a slight limp but stood tall, refusing to appear weak in front of the other agents.
"You were right," Emmett said as soon as the other agents had cleared out of the warehouse, leaving them alone.
"I wish I wasn't right." Dylan shook his head. "Glenn's father did this. He killed his son because the young man was gay. He hated his own flesh and blood so much that he planted bombs on Glenn and Jamall. Innocent people were injured and killed. It makes me sick to know that there are people in our society that do horrific things in the name of religion."
"That's why we're agents."
"I'm sure Homeland and ATF have put out an alert on Mahmood Yassin by now. I have no doubt that every agency is out searching for the man. He'll be caught soon."
"Are you okay with that?" Emmett asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't you want to be the one to arrest the man? Don't you want to be the one to close this case?"
"He's human. I don't have the authority to arrest him. If he was a paranormal, he'd be considered rogue, and we'd be ordered to put him down."
"The death penalty?"
"My world is different from yours," Dylan said. "The rules are different. It may seem harsh to you, but that's the way it has to be. That's the way it's always been."
"No, I get it. There are days that I wish we could play by your rules. I've seen so many guilty people walk away without suffering any consequences after committing the most heinous crimes because of a technicality."
"Now that the case is complete, we should probably head back to FBI headquarters. I need to check in with my team, and then, I'm going to take you to breakfast. Do you like pancakes?"
Emmett grinned. "That sounds great."
Dylan held out his hand, and Emmett took it, intertwining their fingers. They walked out of the warehouse together. Dylan's mind began to fill with ideas of what he would like to do with the handsome agent once he got him alone. Most of them were probably illegal in several states. But first, he needed to explain a few things about vampires and what it meant to be a True Match.
As soon as he stepped outside, Dylan took a deep breath. He glanced up at the night sky, letting his eyes sweep over the stars. After such a long day, he was ready for a hot shower and a comfortable bed.
"Come on." Emmett tugged on his arm. "I haven't eaten all day. I'm starving."
Dylan grinned, "Me too."
Looking over at the man that fate had chosen for him, Dylan couldn't help but stare at his face. Just like the first time he'd seen Emmett, Dylan was once again blown away by the man's beauty. He was perfection.
Without warning, a deafening explosion rang out. A shockwave hit him, throwing Dylan backward through the air. Turning his head away from the blast, he closed his eyes. Dylan landed hard, skidding across the ground before coming to an abrupt stop on the pavement.
Chapter Eight
Dylan opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly as his brain quickly processed what had happened. Bomb. Rising to his feet, Dylan took stock of his surroundings.
The black Town Car was on fire …
Torn pieces of metal littered the ground …
Alarms blared in the distance …
Pieces of paper fluttered through the air like snowflakes …
Shards of glass covered the street …
Glancing around, Dylan tried to clear his rattled mind. It took a minute, but soon Dylan remembered that he hadn't been alone. He was with Emmett. His True Match. Oh God. Emmett.
"Emmett!" he shouted, fear unlike anything he'd ever known before consuming him. "Flowers, where are you?" He couldn't lose his True Match, not like this, not now.