"Gregori placed his hands over the wounds, closed his eyes, and went seeking out of his own body and into the one lying so hideously wounded, as still as death. Mikhail felt Raven's stirring of pain. She flinched and tried to move away, tried to fade so that this new, painful sensation could not touch her. Mikhail surrounded her effortlessly, held her still for Gregori to do the intricate work of repairing damaged organs. It was more a feeling than words. So much pain. "No!" Jacques's protest was sharp. "I know what you do, Mikhail. Drink now, or I will not continue the transfusion." Fury welled up, shook Mikhail out of his semi-stupor. Jacques met the rage in his dark eyes with deliberate calm. "You are too weak from loss of blood to oppose me." "Then let me feed." There was cold fury, black as night, in those words. Pure menace, the threat of death. Jacques exposed his throat without hesitating, managing to prevent a groan of pain as Mikhail bit deep, fed hungrily, ferociously, like a savage animal. Jacques did not struggle or make a sound, offering up his life for his brother and Raven. Eric moved toward them as Jacques's knees buckled and he sat down hard, but Jacques motioned him away. Mikhail lifted his head abruptly, his shadowed features so haunted and grief-stricken, Jacques ached for him. "Forgive me, Jacques. There is no excuse for my treatment of you." "There is nothing to forgive when I offer freely," Jacques whispered raggedly. Eric moved immediately to his side, supplying Jacques with blood. "How could anyone do such a thing to her? She is so good, so courageous. She risked her life to help a stranger. How could someone want to harm her?" Mikhail asked, raising his eyes toward the heavens. Silence was his only answer."