"She has exchanged blood on three occasions with you?" He forced his voice to be neutral, not wanting to appear to reprimand his leader and brother. Mikhail's dark eyes flickered warningly. "Yes. If she lives, she will most likely be one of us." It was left unsaid that she might live to be destroyed by the very one who had converted her. "We cannot seek human medical aid for her. If our way does not work, Mikhail, her doctors will be useless anyway," Jacques cautioned. "Damn it, do you think I do not 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 farthest 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."