"Mikhail, drink!" Jacques materialized beside the bed, caught his older brother to him, his face a mask of fury. " --stars, Eric, why did you allow him to go without aid? You're lucky Gregori isn't here, both of you." "He thought only of the woman," Eric said in self-defense. Jacques swore softly. "She is safe in her room, Mikhail. You must drink for both of you. One cannot exist without the other. If you do not survive, you doom her to death, or at best a half-life." Jacques swallowed his anger, took a deep calming breath, used his teeth to tear open his wrist and thrust it to his brother's mouth. " --take what I freely offer. My life is your life, my blood your blood. Together we are strong." He used the formal words, meaning every one of them. He would have given his life for their leader. The others began the ritual healing chant. They spoke in a hypnotic rhythm, and the ancient tongue was beautiful."