Gregori nodded. “He lived there on and off before he disappeared. This cabin is Mikhail’s. Years ago Jacques guarded Mikhail’s wife in this place, fought a betrayer to save her. He nearly died here.” He saw a flash of hope in the woman’s eyes. Gregori knew her control of Jacques was but a slender thread. He had to reach her, get her on their side. She recognized the truth of something he had said. “After that incident, we left this area for a while. About eight years ago, Jacques returned to his home near here. There was much danger that year and the next. Humans and Carpathians alike were being murdered. Mikhail, Jacques, Aidan, and I were hunting the assassins. Jacques was supposed to rejoin us in three days several hundred miles south of here. When he did not meet us and did not answer our summons, we came to his home. It was completely destroyed. We could not detect his life force, nor did he answer our calls.” Jacques venomous hiss called him a liar. Red flames leapt and burned in the depths of his eyes. I called and called, Shea. Do not believe this betrayer.The strength of his grip on her arm increased, threatening to crush her bones.

Perhaps I can learn from him, something to help us.Shea swayed wearily, was forced to lean against Jacques’ chest for support. My arm hurts.She was so tired. If she could just sleep... Everything seemed to be blurring together, the voices fading as if coming from a great distance.

Gregori’s silver gaze met Mikhail’s dark one. The woman is weak, perhaps in more immediate need than Jacques. If we lose her, he is lost to us. There is no doubt in my mind that she is all that is keeping him with us. She is his only link to sanity.

“Now you tell me more,” Gregori prompted Shea as Mikhail nodded his understanding. They were aware of Jacques’ terrible grip on her arm. Gregori needed to keep her conscious and willing to aid them. “What of Jacques’ wounds?”

“He was tortured, burned. A wooden stake the size of your fist was driven through his body. That is the worst wound. He remembers two humans and one he refers to as a betrayer.” Her voice was very weak.

A single sound escaped Mikhail, a low, ominous growl that sent a shiver racing along Shea’s spine. A vampire,Mikhail hissed to Gregori. Avampire turned him over to humans to be tortured and murdered.

No doubt.Gregori was matter-of-fact. He didn’t even glance in Mikhail’s direction, his entire focus on the woman. He had to keep her from slipping away, and she was very close to doing just that. It was only her determination to save Jacques that kept her from succumbing to the blood loss and fatigue and pain.

“He was chained and manacled at the wrists and ankles. Buried upright in a coffin in the cellar wall.” She made a determined effort to speak clearly, but her throat was very sore, and she was so tired. “There were well over a hundred deep cuts on his body and as many shallow ones. He lived a prisoner of the earth, in terrible agony during his waking time for seven years. It has done something to his mind. Jacques remembers very little of his past. Bits and pieces only. Most of his memories are of pain and madness.” Shea closed her eyes, exhausted. She just wanted them all to go away so she could sleep. Her heart was laboring, sweat beaded on her body, and her limbs were like lead. It was almost too difficult to keep her eyes open. “The one who betrayed him was someone he knew and trusted.”

“Jacques.” Gregori’s voice dropped even lower so that it seemed to whisper—low, compelling, beautiful. “Your woman is in need of care. I offer my services as a healer to both of you. I give you my word that at no time will I attempt harm to your woman.”

Let him, Jacques. No! It is a trick.

Shea stirred, tried to sit up on her own, but was too weak. Look at us, wild man. They could easily kill us. I’m so tired, I can’t hang on anymore.

Jacques turned it over in his mind. He knew something was wrong with him, but he trusted none of them. He gave in only because he sensed Shea’s health was even more precarious than his. Stay close to me.

Shea’s hand came up, fluttered weakly. She pushed the tangled mane of hair from her face wearily. “He says you may help him.”

“We will have to get you to the bed, Jacques.” Gregori’s voice dispelled the thick tension in the room, pushed it aside to replace it with clean, fragrant air. “Mikhail, I will need herbs. You know which ones. Tell Byron to bring me plenty of rich soil from the steam chamber in the caves.”

Gregori glided closer to the couple, his graceful elegance failing to conceal the rippling strength of his muscles and the power emanating from his body. He looked totally confident, relaxed, completely fearless.

The soft rumbling in Jacques’ throat increased; his fingers tightened possessively, crushing bones and tendon in Shea’s upper arm. Gregori stopped moving immediately. “I am sorry, woman, I know you are weak, but you will have to move to the other side of him or he will not allow me to help,” Gregori instructed calmly. What we need, Mikhail, is Raven’s calming influence. You look about as reassuring as a Bengal tiger.

Oh, and you look like a bunny rabbit,Mikhail scoffed.

“You could have brought Raven along,” Gregori chided softly, aloud. “You bring her along on every other dangerous thing she should not be involved in.” That was a clear reprimand. “You might have brought her where she could actually do some good.”

Through the open doorway suddenly stepped a small woman, long ebony hair braided intricately, huge blue eyes flashing at Mikhail. As Byron shouldered his way inside behind her, she gave him a friendly smile and stood on her toes to brush his chin with a kiss.

Mikhail stiffened, then immediately wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. “Carpathian women do not do that kind of thing,” he reprimanded her.

She tilted her chin at him, in no way intimidated. “That’s because Carpathian males have such a territorial mentality—you know, a beat-their-chest, swing-from-the-trees sort of thing.” She turned her head to look at the couple lying on the floor. Her indrawn breath was audible.

“Jacques.” She whispered his name, tears in her voice and in her blue eyes. “It really is you.” Eluding Mikhail’s outstretched, detaining hand, she ran to him.

Let her,Gregori persuaded softly. Look at him.

Jacques’ gaze was fastened on the woman’s face, the red flames receding from his eyes as she approached.

“I’m Raven, Jacques. Don’t you remember me? Mikhail, your brother, is my lifemate.” Raven dropped to her knees beside the couple. “Thank God you’re alive. I can’t believe how lucky we are. Who did this to you? Who took you from us?”

Shea felt the ripple of awareness in her mind. Jacques’ shock. His curiosity. He recognized those tear-filled blue eyes. Shea caught a glimpse, a fragment of memory, the woman bending over him, her hands clamped to his throat, pressing soil and saliva into a pumping wound. Shea held her breath, waiting. Jacques’ silent cry of despair echoed in her head. She forced herself to move, found his hand with hers, silently supporting him as she regarded the woman kneeling beside her.

You didn’t tell me she was so beautiful,Shea reprimanded deliberately.

In the midst of Jacques’ pain and agony, his possessive fury and maniacal madness, something seemed to melt the ice-cold core of murderous resolve. The urge to smile at that feminine, edgy tone came out of nowhere. Something snarling to be set free retreated, and the tension in him eased visibly. Isshe?Jacques asked innocently.

Shea’s green eyes touched his face, and warmth spread further inside him. And the beast was temporarily leashed.

“Is this your lifemate, Jacques?” Raven asked softly.