Perhaps I can learn from him, something to help us. Shea swayed wearily, was forced to lean against Jacques’ chest for support. My arm hurts. She was so tired. If she could just sleep… Everything seemed to be blurring together, the voices fading as if coming from a great distance.
Gregori’s silver gaze met Mikhail’s dark one. The woman is weak, perhaps in more immediate need than Jacques. If we lose her, he is lost to us. There is no doubt in my mind that she is all that is keeping him with us. She is his only link to sanity.
“Now you tell me more,” Gregori prompted Shea as Mikhail nodded his understanding. They were aware of Jacques’ terrible grip on her arm. Gregori needed to keep her conscious and willing to aid them. “What of Jacques’ wounds?”
“He was tortured, burned. A wooden stake the size of your fist was driven through his body. That is the worst wound. He remembers two humans and one he refers to as a betrayer.” Her voice was very weak.
A single sound escaped Mikhail, a low, ominous growl that sent a shiver racing along Shea’s spine. A vampire, Mikhail hissed to Gregori. A vampire turned him over to humans to be tortured and murdered.
No doubt. Gregori was matter-of-fact. He didn’t even glance in Mikhail’s direction, his entire focus on the woman. He had to keep her from slipping away, and she was very close to doing just that. It was only her determination to save Jacques that kept her from succumbing to the blood loss and fatigue and pain.
“He was chained and manacled at the wrists and ankles. Buried upright in a coffin in the cellar wall.” She made a determined effort to speak clearly, but her throat was very sore, and she was so tired. “There were well over a hundred deep cuts on his body and as many shallow ones. He lived a prisoner of the earth, in terrible agony during his waking time for seven years. It has done something to his mind. Jacques remembers very little of his past. Bits and pieces only. Most of his memories are of pain and madness.” Shea closed her eyes, exhausted. She just wanted them all to go away so she could sleep. Her heart was laboring, sweat beaded on her body, and her limbs were like lead. It was almost too difficult to keep her eyes open. “The one who betrayed him was someone he knew and trusted.”
“Jacques.” Gregori’s voice dropped even lower so that it seemed to whisper—low, compelling, beautiful. “Your woman is in need of care. I offer my services as a healer to both of you. I give you my word that at no time will I attempt harm to your woman.”
Let him, Jacques.
No! It is a trick.
Shea stirred, tried to sit up on her own, but was too weak. Look at us, wild man. They could easily kill us. I’m so tired, I can’t hang on anymore.
Jacques turned it over in his mind. He knew something was wrong with him, but he trusted none of them. He gave in only because he sensed Shea’s health was even more precarious than his. Stay close to me.
Shea’s hand came up, fluttered weakly. She pushed the tangled mane of hair from her face wearily. “He says you may help him.”
“We will have to get you to the bed, Jacques.” Gregori’s voice dispelled the thick tension in the room, pushed it aside to replace it with clean, fragrant air. “Mikhail, I will need herbs. You know which ones. Tell Byron to bring me plenty of rich soil from the steam chamber in the caves.”
Gregori glided closer to the couple, his graceful elegance failing to conceal the rippling strength of his muscles and the power emanating from his body. He looked totally confident, relaxed, completely fearless.
The soft rumbling in Jacques’ throat increased; his fingers tightened possessively, crushing bones and tendon in Shea’s upper arm. Gregori stopped moving immediately. “I am sorry, woman, I know you are weak, but you will have to move to the other side of him or he will not allow me to help,” Gregori instructed calmly. What we need, Mikhail, is Raven’s calming influence. You look about as reassuring as a Bengal tiger.