Gregori’s cool silver gaze slid over him as Mikhail relinquished the herbs. “It is a wonder you have been able to tie your shoes without me all of these centuries.”
Mikhail sank down beside his brother, one hand over his burning eyes. “It is more of a wonder you have stayed alive with your ostentatious displays.”
Ancient language, as old as time, flooded the chamber. Gregori’s voice was beautiful yet commanding. No one had a voice like Gregori’s. Beautiful, hypnotic, mesmerizing. The ritual chant provided an anchor in the uncertain sea in which Jacques was floating. Rich soil mixed with Gregori’s saliva was a collar around the wounded Carpathian’s neck. Gregori’s blood, old and powerful beyond measure, flowed in Jacques’s starved veins. Gregori crushed and mixed herbs, adding them to the mixture around Jacques’s neck.
“I repaired the damage from the inside out. He is weak, Mikhail, but his will is strong. If we put him deep within the earth and give him time, he will heal.” Gregori pushed a poultice into Mikhail’s hand. “Put that on your eyes. It will help until we get you in the ground.”
Gregori was right. The poultice was soothing, a cool ice melting the fire. But somewhere deep inside another nightmare was starting. A yawning, black, empty hole that began to stretch, to crawl through him, whispering dark, insane thoughts. No matter how many times his mind reached for Raven’s, he found emptiness. Intellect told him she was in a deep sleep, but his Carpathian blood cried out for her touch.
“You need to go to ground now,” Gregori pointed out. “I will fix the safeguards and ensure we are not disturbed.”
“With a big sign saying ‘Gregori lies here, do not disturb’?” Mikhail asked softly, his voice a low warning.
Gregori lowered Jacques’s body deep within the healing earth, in no way disturbed by Mikhail’s sarcasm.
“You may as well have written your name in the sky with that display, Gregori.”
“I want the vampire to be very clear about who I am, whom he has chosen for his enemy.” Gregori’s shoulders shrugged in a lazy ripple of power.
Need crawled along Mikhail’s skin like a thousand biting ants, stinging his organs and gnawing at his sinews. He raised red, swollen eyes to Gregori’s harsh, yet curiously sensual features. There was such power in Gregori; it blazed in the silver of his eyes. “You think with Raven that I am complete and no longer have need of you. You deliberately draw the danger to yourself, away from me and mine, because in your heart you believe you can no longer hold out. You welcome the danger of the hunt; you are seeking a way to end this life. Now, more than ever, our people need you, Gregori. We have hope. There is a future for us if we can survive the coming years.”
Gregori sighed heavily, looked away from the steel in Mikhail’s eyes, the censure blazing there. “There is purpose in saving your life, but for me, not much else.”
Mikhail pushed a hand through his thick mane of hair. “Our people cannot do without you, Gregori, and quite simply, neither can I.”
“You are so certain that I will not turn?” Gregori’s smile was humorless, self-mocking. “Your faith in me exceeds my own. This vampire is ruthless, drunk on his own power. He craves the killing, the destruction. I walk the line of that madness every day. His power is nothing, a feather in the wind compared to mine. I have no heart and my soul is dark. I do not want to wait until I cannot make my own choice. The one thing I do not want is to force you to seek me out to destroy me. My life has been my belief in you, in protecting you. I will not wait until I must be hunted.”
Mikhail waved a tired hand to open the earth above his brother. “You are our greatest healer, the greatest asset to our people.”
“That is why they whisper my name in fear and dread.”
Beneath their feet the ground suddenly shook, heaved and bucked, rolled perilously. The center of the earthquake was obviously a great distance away, but there was no mistaking the howl of rage produced by a powerful vampire at the destruction of his lair.