Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

bedframe, his hand still clasped in Mikhail's.
    Raven felt almost detached from what was happening to her body. Her awareness of others in the room and their movements came through Mikhail. He was with her somehow, in her body, breathing for her.
    And there was another, one she didn't recognize, but he was also in her, working like a surgeon would, repairing the extensive damage to her body, to her internal organs, paying special attention to her female organs. She wanted to just stop, allow the pain to swamp her, to carry her someplace far beyond feelings. She could just let go. She was tired, so tired. It would be so very easy. It was what she wanted, longed for.
    She rejected the beckoning peace, fought to hang on to life. Mikhail's life. She wanted to brush her fingertips over the lines of strain she knew would be around his mouth. She wanted to ease his guilt and rage, assure him that everything had been her own choice. His love, total, uncompromising, unconditional, endless, was almost more than she could cope with. Most of all she was aware of the strange changes taking place in her body.
    None of it touched her, wrapped tightly, protectively in the cocoon of Mikhail's love. He breathed, she breathed. His heart beat, her heart beat. Sleep, little one. I will watch for both of us.
    After several long, backbreaking hours, Gregori straightened up, his hair damp with perspiration, his face weary and lined, his body aching with fatigue. "I have done my best. If she lives, she will be able to have a child. Mikhail's blood and the soil should complete the healing process. The change is taking place rapidly. She does not understand and does not fight it." He pushed a hand stained with her precious blood through his hair. "She fights only for Mikhail's life, thinks only of his life and how her death would affect him. I think it is better if she does not understand what is actually happening to her. She does not know the extent of her wounds. There is much pain. She suffers greatly, but she is not a quitter, this one."
    Jacques was already preparing new poultices to replace the blood-soaked ones. "Can we give her more blood? She is still losing more than I like and is so weak, I fear she will not live through the night."
    "Yes," Gregori replied tiredly, thoughtfully, "but no more than a pint or two. We must do this slowly or we will alarm her. What she would accept unconditionally in Mikhail, she will not accept in herself. Give her my blood. It is potent, like Mikhail's, and he grows weak trying to breathe for her and keep her heart Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    going."
    "You are tired, Gregori," Jacques protested. "There are others."
    "Not with my blood. Do as I say." Gregori seated himself calmly and watched as a needle was inserted into his vein. No one argued with Gregori; he was a law unto himself. Only Mikhail could truly call him friend.
    Celeste drew in a deep breath, wanting to say something to Gregori that would indicate her admiration, but there was a look in his eyes that stopped her. Gregori was calm in the eye of the storm; he was lethal in his coolness.
    Jacques allowed Gregori's precious life fluid to flow directly into Raven's veins. It wasn't the best or fastest way for healing, but Gregori's observations alleviated Jacques's concerns. Only after he had assured himself that the blood was flowing easily did Jacques sit down again. They had to organize themselves, make certain every detail was taken care of. Mikhail believed details saved lives. "We need to assess the damage to our people. All of the assassins died; not one escaped?"
    "Hans, the American couple, and the man who attacked Raven." Eric counted them off. "They were the only ones present. No mortal could have survived the intensity of the storm, the killing rage in the animals.
    If there had been an unseen observer, Mikhail or the beasts would have known."
    Gregori stirred tiredly, his enormous strength beginning to fade with his continuing efforts. "There was no other." He said it imperiously, as if no one would think to question him, and of course they wouldn't.
    Jacques found a small grin touching his mouth for the first time all evening. "But you made a clean sweep of the area, Eric?"
    "Absolutely. The bodies are burned, caught together under a tree as if for shelter and hit by lightning.
    There is no evidence of wounds," Eric reported.
    "Tomorrow a search will be launched for the missing