Samuel loaded a syringe with a strong anesthetic and got it into Damon's shoulder without him even noticing. When the purring stopped after fifteen minutes, Bran came and took Damon and Charles elsewhere. Samuel helped lift and dress Salvatore. They wheeled him into the car in a wheelchair. Samuel didn't even ask where.
Now, his attention was on Mimi. He had analyzed the dentifrices that Damon had made and extracted different versions of the velvet and some other substances; there had been very many versions with the same purpose. They were amorous potions that aimed to bind Mimi to Damon, but Samuel understood it was just a dental reaction.
As fascinating as it would have been to see the effect of these substances, Samuel carefully stored them away and carefully labeled them as well, so that at no point would there be any ambiguity about the substances.
Colin had left as the energy transfer had been completed, and it was now a week at least. Colin had been informed of another very peculiar epidemic and had gone to investigate and treat it. He had promised to keep Samuel informed, as any epidemic was good to be aware of and manage.
Samuel then went into action. Mimi was now stronger, so he made a stronger cocktail. Then he went to Mimi and gave her a shot of anesthetic. Mimi barely moved, although she had moved a little when Damon was taken away. The injection would take effect quickly, and he could attend to Mimi.
His team of researchers had just delivered new nutrient solutions, as carefully made as possible and very high in energy. It was time to get Mimi in a little better shape. Samuel knew that separating Damon and Mimi was unnecessarily cruel, at least to Damon, but then again, if he wanted Mimi to get better, sometimes you just had to be cruel.
He lifted the sleepy Mimi into the incubator and dripped food on her. He also first put on a strong anesthetic drip and waited until Mimi was properly unconscious. Mimi could now rest and be nourished for 24 hours before he intervened in the wound.
Mimi barely kept her temperature while the incubator was full, and Samuel could take extensive blood tests to see a bit of where we were going. He took cultures from the wound and put those in the warming cabinet to grow, too, and then everything was in place.
He went to his desk and started reading Colin's reports on this fascinating epidemic. It almost caused a kind of venereal disease in werewolves, related to heat, and occurred in both sexes. It was contagious but airborne. The causative agent had not yet been directly identified, and Samuel wondered and pondered about this.
He looked at Mimi's blood tests; there were no surprises there per se, but now he knew the baseline and could see how effective those feeding preparations were. Mimi was easy to treat at the moment. The infusion pump kept her asleep. The cultures would take time before Samuel would put any antibiotics on the drip, Mimi wasn't going anywhere. He went upstairs to eat, sleep, and talk to Bran about this fascinating infection.
The next morning, he ate breakfast, answered emails, and only looked at Mimi's culture in the afternoon when there was already a clear increase. Fine. He took a sample of the bacteria and put it into the machine for examination.
He had a machine created by his own team that identified the bacteria, by their appearance and then by their DNA, and the machine's powerful artificial intelligence found the most effective treatment for each bacterium and made many recommendations on how to treat and what to expect, where the infection might lie.
Samuel relied more on his own experience, but the machine would, in any case, print out several pages of everything it had been programmed to examine. Samuel booked the operating theatre; it was a sterile room, and Mimi had an infection, so he didn't want to make things worse.
He lifted the anesthetized Mimi into the operating theatre, took off the dressing, and started the treatment. First, he put on a quick scanner to show him the condition of the internal organs. Samuel had wondered about Mimi's poor condition. Well, after all, being fed by Incubi is something you can heal quite fast, too, and Adam was fine after a few days, but Mimi just hadn't got better.
There was nothing unusual about the blood tests, but he cursed to himself when he saw the scan results. Demon blades. Of course. He remembered Adam at some point or someone telling him about platinum demon blades, and he counted at least ten of them inside Mimi.
Platinum was always poisoning Mimi, and he would have to open this at least partially. He continued to clean up the wound made by the demon, and it was a long and slow process. He had to open the wound more and then fish the demon blades out. They had made wounds here and there. Lacerations and bruises.
Samuel sighed heavily as he peered at the deep wound, his brows furrowing with concern. The sterile scent of the operating room permeated the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood. As his fingers delicately probed the area, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope.
Mimi's pancreas seemed intact, not yet succumbing to necrosis. The rapid test results confirmed that the multiplying enzyme remained dormant, a minor victory in their battle. Perhaps, just maybe, her organs were still viable, and he had saved them.
Samuel began the intricate process of stitching and patching up the internal organs with utmost care. Mimi lay motionless, her fragile body still weak from the ordeal, though no longer in immediate danger. The meticulously placed stitches would dissolve by the time she awoke, sparing her precious energy that would otherwise be wasted on regenerating new organs.
To ensure thorough healing, he excised a significant amount of surrounding tissue, draining Damon's blood that had seeped into the wound. He was trying to flush out demon poisons by using Damon's blood. And help with healing, too. Despite his efforts, the wound required stitching. Samuel meticulously sutured layer by layer, starting with the peritoneum, then the intricate muscle layers, and finally, delicately closing the skin. Each stitch served as a reminder of his determination to restore Mimi's health.
Having used a considerable amount of Damon's blood to purge the demon toxins from Mimi's body, or at least neutralize them, Samuel was now focused on repairing the internal damage. Once satisfied with the meticulous stitching and wound closure, he gently placed Mimi back into the incubator, aware that she still struggled to regulate her body temperature.
In the background, the clinking of metal instruments filled the sterile room as Samuel performed tests and inserted platinum binders to aid in Mimi's recovery. Now, things were looking brighter, but she would have a long recovery ahead of her.
Having escorted Damon to Australia, Charles relayed the urgency of their mission. Damon, awakening on the plane, simmered with anger. Charles, understanding the gravity of their situation, spoke with a sense of urgency, emphasizing the need for Damon's help against the formidable incubus king that had survived.
A low growl rumbled deep within Damon as conflicting emotions battled within him. Though he longed for Mimi's safety, the thirst for revenge surged through his veins.
Resolute, he responded, his voice laced with determination, "Fine, we'll eliminate it, and then I'll return to Mimi."
Charles, remorseful for the circumstances that led to this moment, expressed his regret. Damon remained silent, unable to contain his rising fury, feeling the volcano threatening to breach the surface.
Damien woke up when Damon's rage took over. He surfaced and thought awhile, seeing that he was on the plane. Mimi's presence, he could feel via Damons and Mimi's bond with him, filled him with a strange sense of relief, albeit disturbing. He couldn't deny the twisted pleasure he felt, knowing that he would soon embark on a hunt, relishing in the slow, agonizing demise of his prey. It excited him, the prospect of indulging in such sadistic enjoyment. Plus, Mimi needed to grow stronger so they could one day engage in their twisted games in the dimly lit shed.
Oh, how he had meticulously devised devices to make her scream in pain. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, fueling his anticipation. But for now, let the hunt begin. He wasn't even sure what to do after satisfying his desires. Perhaps it would be deliciously satisfying to keep Damon away from her for a while longer. He might stay on the surface, never know.
Meanwhile, Samuel sat at his desk, the quiet hum of his computer filling the room. Mimi lay peacefully asleep, not requiring any immediate attention. As he opened an email from Colin, detailing the rapid spread of the epidemic, a deep frown etched itself on Samuel's face. He felt an urge to lend a helping hand. After all, the werewolves were suffering, and now humans were falling victim, too. With determination, he picked up the phone and dialed his father's number.
"Bran here, what's the problem, Samuel?" came the voice on the other end. Samuel couldn't hide his annoyance at how his father always seemed to sense his troubles.
"Well, there's this new epidemic, and Colin can't control it. Mimi is still asleep and easily treatable. I was wondering if you could take care of her for a week or two, or maybe even less if we contain the outbreak," Samuel explained, hoping his father would agree.
"Fine. What do you want me to do? I can come to the house, and we can figure it out," Bran replied, his voice filled with a hint of resignation.
"Yeah, Mimi is no longer in the incubator. The infection has shifted from sepsis, and she now has a fever, but she's still sound asleep," Samuel informed him.
"I'll be there in an hour. We'll assess the situation and see if I can take her to Montana. The plane will be ready when I arrive," Bran said, his tone determined.
Samuel's gaze shifted to Mimi, who lay peacefully, her slight frame now showing signs of weight gain. The antibiotics were dripping steadily, along with the fever medication. However, the automatic dispensers that monitored her temperature were not portable. If Bran were to move Mimi, the medication would have to be administered manually. Yet Samuel knew it wouldn't be too difficult to handle.
"Yes, come over, and I'll show you. It's a simple process," Samuel assured him, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and concern for Mimi's well-being.
Bran then came over, and Samuel said, "I'm going to give you written instructions, with the medicines and syringes. I've now put her cannula in here on her back so she can't pull it out if she wakes up. Give fever medicine every five hours, or if she has a fever. Here are the written instructions for the medicines and how to give them. The dressing should not get wet; try to watch it, and I will put wet wipes on her to wipe her with when and if she gets a fever so bad that when it goes down, she sweats."
His mind was already on the fascinating epidemic, and he had many ideas on investigating and treating it.
Bran carefully maneuvered Mimi's sleeping form, her body limp in his arms, as they made their way to the waiting car. The men, their footsteps muffled by the quiet night, secured her in place with seat belts, their movements punctuated by the soft click of buckles. The scent of autumn permeated the air, the crispness of fallen leaves mingling with the faint scent of pine from the surrounding woods.
Inside the plane, the hum of the engines filled the cabin, creating a soothing backdrop as Bran attended to his duties. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he responded to urgent emails, his focus unwavering despite the slumbering figure beside him. Mimi's breaths were barely audible, her face serene as the powerful medicine Samuel had given her kept her in a deep sleep.
As the plane touched down, the men gently carried Mimi once again, their footsteps echoing in the quiet darkness as they made their way to the waiting car. The road ahead was enveloped in shadows, the fading light of the autumn day giving way to the inky blackness of the night. Time seemed to stretch as they traversed the winding path, the only sound the occasional rustle of leaves under the tires.
Upon arriving at the house, Bran's attention was divided between the multiple werewolf crises demanding his immediate attention. The house, devoid of noise, felt empty; the only movement was the rise and fall of Mimi's chest as she continued to slumber. It didn't bother Bran, who was confident in his ability to handle any situation that might arise. Samuel's instructions, though somewhat vague, were placed carefully on the side table, their presence momentarily forgotten as Bran delved into his work.
With a sense of purpose, Bran directed the men to settle Mimi in a room, their footsteps barely disturbing the silence. The drip rack, no longer needed, was discreetly stowed away, leaving the room more serene. The feeding fluid dripped slowly, the steady rhythm echoing in the quiet room, as the men, unfamiliar with the process, erred on the side of caution.
No medical professionals were present, the responsibility falling solely on Bran and his men. They were accustomed to assisting wild wolves with their health issues, their expertise extending beyond the confines of a conventional medical setting. Bran retreated to his office, the weight of his responsibilities settling upon his shoulders. Samuel's instructions, now a distant memory, remained untouched on the table as Bran immersed himself in his work, his mind consumed by the pressing matters at hand.