"There is ultimate power in the taking of life while we feed, and it is so easy, drawing our victims to us. No one can survive darkness and despair for a thousand years. Gregori has lived from the Crusades to men walking on the moon, always fighting the monster inside. The one hope we have for salvation is our lifemate. And if Gregori does not find his lifemate soon, he will seek the dawn or turn rogue. I fear the worst." "What is turning rogue?" "Killing for the pleasure of it, the power, becoming the vampire humans recognize. Using women before feeding, forcing them to become slaves, using human puppets, creating ghouls, the walking dead," Mikhail answered grimly. He and Gregori had often hunted their own kind and discovered just how depraved a Carpathian turned vampire could be. "You would have to stop Gregori?" Fear shot through her like a flaming arrow. She was beginning to understand the complexity of Mikhail's life. "You say he is more powerful." "Without a doubt. He has had freedom of movement, and far more experience in hunting and tracking the undead. He has learned so much, participated in life across the earth. His tremendous power is only exceeded by his utter isolation. Gregori is more like a brother than a friend. We have been together since the beginning. I would not wish to fail him or hunt him, nor attempt to pit my strength against his. He has fought numerous battles for me, with me. We have shared blood, healed one another, guarded each other when there was need. And together..." He trailed off. "Gregori is as necessary to our people as I am, although many do not understand." "What of Jacques?" She already felt affection for the man who was so much like Mikhail. Mikhail stood up, dumping the water wearily. "My brother is strong and wise and very dangerous given the right circumstances. The blood of the ancients runs strong in him. He travels, studies, is willing to take the responsibility of our people should it become necessary." "You carry the burdens of your people on your shoulders." Her voice was very soft. She caressed his coffee-colored hair with gentle fingers. Mikhail sat up carefully, regarding her with old, weary eyes. "We are a dying species, little one. I fear I merely slow the inevitable."