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."