"Aidan stepped forward and clasped first Byron's forearms and then Gregori's in the traditional greeting of warriors. He looked over Gregori's shoulder to their fallen prince. "Who dared to do this?" he demanded. "Vampire hunters who have fallen, ironically enough, in league with a vampire," Gregori answered. "What of Jacques?" "He is in the ground." "And Mikhail's woman?" There was a slight silence, as if the very night held its breath for the answer. Raven represented hope for their people. "We will get her back when we are done here." Gregori growled the promise softly, a slash of his pale eyes pinning the male Carpathians. "Bring me fresh soil and prepare the priest's body." Gregori turned back to his work. Slow, unhurried, the beautiful ancient chant filled the night with hope and promise. No one would believe he was working against time, needing to get Mikhail on his feet this night."