Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

realize what I have done? You think I do not know I failed her, that I failed to protect her? That by my selfish actions I put her life in jeopardy?" Mikhail stripped off his bloody shirt, balled it in one hand, and threw it to the farthermost corner of the room.
    "This is senseless, looking back," Gregori said calmly.
    Mikhail's boots hit the floor, his socks. He dragged himself onto the bed beside Raven. "She cannot take blood our way; she is too weak. We have no choice but to use their primitive transfusion methods."
    "Mikhail…" Jacques said warningly.
    "We have no choice. She did not take all that she needed, not even close. We cannot afford the delay of argument. I ask you, my brother, and you, Gregori, as my friend, to do this for us." Mikhail cradled Raven's head in his lap, sat back among the pillows and closed his eyes tiredly while they began the primitive process.
    If he lived another thousand years, Mikhail would never forget that first stirring of unease in his mind while he lay as dead beneath the earth. Knowledge had exploded in his brain, spread terror in his heart and fury in his soul. He had felt Raven's rippling fear. Jacob's hand on her precious body, the brutal blows, the tearing sensation of the knife as it sliced through skin and into her soft insides. So much pain and fear. So much guilt that she had failed to protect Eleanor and her unborn child.
    Raven's weak touch had slipped inside his mind, so whispery, edged with pain and regret. I'm sorry, Mikhail. I've failed you. Her last coherent thought had been for him. He loathed himself, loathed Eleanor for not having the discipline to learn mental communication, focused and pure.

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    In that one second of understanding, as he lay helpless, locked in the soil, the very foundations of his life, his beliefs, had been rocked. As he burst free, Jacques rising with him, he had mentally reached for Jacob, had buried the bloodstained knife to the hilt in the murderer's throat.
    The storm enabled Vlad to break Eleanor and him free without the fear of blindness or that one moment of complete disorientation that would have given the assassins the time to kill his laboring wife.
    Mikhail sought Raven's mind, crawled to her with warmth and love, his arms a shelter. The needle jabbed the inside of his arm, pierced hers. He had no doubt that his brother would monitor the transfusion closely. Jacques held Mikhail's life along with Raven's in his hands. If she died, Mikhail followed her. He knew in his heart, the black fury that remained would endanger anyone near him, Carpathian and human alike. He could only hope that Gregori was up to the job of dispatching Carpathian justice to him swiftly and accurately if Raven should die.
    No . Even in an unconscious state, she was trying to save him.
    He stroked her hair in long caresses. Sleep, little one. You are in need of healing sleep. Using his mind, he breathed for both of them, in and out, forcing oxygen into his lungs, her lungs. He kept the rhythm of their hearts together. He took on as much of the mechanics of her body as he could to enable her to heal.
    Jacques knew Mikhail's mind was made up. If this woman failed to live, they would lose Mikhail. Right now Mikhail was using his power to keep her blood flowing, her heart pumping, and her lungs working.
    It was a draining process.
    Gregori met Jacques's eyes over Mikhail's head. He was not going to allow the couple to die. It was up to them to heal her. "I will do it, Jacques." It wasn't a request.
    The air stirred beside them and Celeste materialized with Eric. "He chooses to follow her," she said softly. "He loves her that much."
    "It is already known?" Jacques asked.
    "He is withdrawing," Eric answered. "All Carpathians can feel it. Is there a chance to save them?"
    Jacques looked up, his handsome face haggard, his dark eyes, so like Mikhail's, grief-stricken. "She fights for him. She knows he will choose to follow her."
    "Enough!" Gregori hissed, bringing them all to attention. "We have no choice but to save them. That is all that can be in our minds."
    Celeste reached toward Raven. "Let me do this for her, Jacques. I am a woman; I carry a child. I will make no mistakes."
    "Gregori is a healer, Celeste. You are with child and it is difficult," Jacques denied softly.
    "Both of you are supplying blood for them. You could make a mistake." Celeste pushed the sheet from Raven's