"Give her my blood. It is potent, like Mikhail's, and he grows weak trying to breathe for her and keep her heart going." "You are tired, Gregori," Jacques protested. "There are others." "Not with my blood. Do as I say." Gregori seated himself calmly and watched as a needle was inserted into his vein. No one argued with Gregori; he was a law unto himself. Only Mikhail could truly call him friend or command him."