Dark Blood by Christine Feehan Page B

straight, her chin up, but she was very pale. Her hand was in Tatijana’s and he detected a slight tremor running through her body. He willed his body not to fail him. She was only about five feet from him, but the distance seemed to stretch ahead of him for miles. He would have forded a river if that’s what it took to get to her.
    He managed to walk straight, upright, not betraying that every jarring step sent waves of sickening pain crashing through his body. He concentrated on her. Only her. His woman. He stopped directly in front of her and took both of her hands in his.
    We’ll do this together, mon chaton féroce, and I won’t fail you.
    She swallowed hard and nodded, her gaze clinging to his. She nodded several times. He leaned over, ignoring the excruciating pain and the feel of blood running down his body again. He needed to kiss her. He caught her chin and gently brushed his lips across hers. Her lips trembled beneath his, soft and warm and inviting. That was all, the merest touch, but it was enough to convince him that his every reason to fight for his life was standing right in front of him.
    He looked at her a long time, breathing in her scent, tasting that addictive flavor of cinnamon mixed with honey, willing her to believe he would get them through this. When she nodded, he smiled at her, turned and made his way back to Mikhail and Gregori. Blood soaked the shirt that had been pristine white. He ignored it, just as they did. It was simply more evidence that he was nowhere near ready to investigate who was behind attempting to start a war between Lycan and Carpathian.
    Fen and Dimitri helped Zev up to the bed of stone, where he stretched out. He thought the surface would be hard and rough, but it wasn’t, and he settled into it. He wasn’t certain what to expect, but just the small amount of movement had exhausted him. He was so comfortable he was afraid he might fall asleep. He felt Fen’s hands opening the buttons of his shirt, exposing his wound, but he didn’t look at him.
    Both Fen and Dimitri touched his shoulder in a kind of salute, but neither spoke. They didn’t have to. He felt their affection, the brotherhood they’d offered. For just a moment, Tatijana touched his mind and then Skyler. He had forgotten what it was like to have family. It had been far too many years.
    Feeling a burn behind his eyes, Zev closed them. He became aware of the scent of the aromatic candles. Hundreds of them burned in the cave with a combination of healing fragrances. Mikhail stepped up to the side of the raised bed with Gregori gliding into position beside him. He felt their close proximity without having to see either of them. The combination of the two men radiated an extraordinary power.
    A hush settled in the chamber. He felt a searing heat drive right through his stomach and his eyes flew open. Gregori stood over him, hands raised, palms facing the wound in his gut, the white-hot energy unlike anything Zev had ever experienced. Gregori’s hands were a good twelve inches from his body, but he could have been touching him with a red-hot poker.
    The Carpathians present in the chamber began to chant, the language ancient, the words powerful. Others outside the healing cave, in the far distance, joined, their voices rising to aid in his healing. There was something comforting in the knowledge that an entire community could come together to try to save a single member from death.
    The heat generated by Gregori alone was so scorching hot his mind shied away from the fact that Mikhail would amplify it. Once the two joined together he couldn’t imagine the degree of heat.
    Mikhail spoke in a low, carrying tone.
    kudejek kuntanak en Karpatiinak és kuntanak en hän ku pesänak.
I call upon generations of the line of the prince and the line of the protector.
    The Carpathians in the cavern replied back to him.
    It kule megem, oma kontak,hän ku pusmak.
Hear us now, warriors of old, healers we summon.
    Mikhail inhaled