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the ground, breathing in fresh air.

"Your blood or his," Mikhail demanded.

"Mostly his," Manolito answered, desperately trying to regain his control. He couldn't afford for the prince to realize he'd regained emotion and for the first time in his life, he had experienced claustrophobia. "It feels like vampire blood, it burns like acid, yet he did not act as any vampire I have ever encountered. He didn't seem experienced in an actual fight." Manolito sat up slowly, buying a little more time. "He laid a great trap, but he cannot really fight. He was relying on poison to stop us. It's in his claws."

"Are Juliette and Riordan safe beneath the surface?"

"I don't think he can get to them. He cannot get past the safeguards. Don't you find that strange? He can do so much, yet he falls short when it comes to finishing."

"I fear Razvan was not slain as we had hoped." Mikhail reached out and circled his ankle, inspecting the damage. "He is good at the planning of a battle, but from what I understand he was unable to make up his own spells and safeguards. That would mean he could not unravel them." I am tired, Raven. So very tired.

Gregori comes to you, my love. Her voice was a soft caress. There have been so many battles lately. This is my fault. I should not have insisted on bringing everyone together. The responsibility of their safety weighs on you.

Gregori tore into the passageway, a thundering cloud of vapor, already shifting. He came striding toward them, his silver eyes blazing, his long hair streaming behind him, his face a grim mask. Muscles ran like steel beneath his skin and he moved with fluid grace. He simply bent and ran his hands over Mikhail, looking for every scratch that could have opened a doorway for poison. "Our people are grateful to you, Manolito. We cannot thank you enough for your intervention."

Ah, old friend. Must you treat me like a child in front of the children?

Do not make a joke. How many times is this now that our enemies have set traps for you? Raven and Savannah are both distressed, both in tears. For that alone I could tear out your heart. His hands were extraordinarily gentle as he examined the prince.

"Manolito has several burns and claw marks," Mikhail said.

Gregori eyed his prince warily. Mikhail always responded to his outrageous threats, but this time he didn't even attempt a quip. Alarmed, Gregori went over his body a second time to make certain he had assessed the damage correctly. "I will take you home to Savannah to heal your ankle, if you do not mind, Mikhail. It will do her good to see you and I will be able to spend more time making certain I have all the poison out."

"Whatever is best for you, Gregori."

Gregori's dark brow rose and once again, his slashing silver gaze probed the prince. He

finally turned to Manolito and cleansed the burns from the acid blood, healing the few claw marks on his face and chest, checking to make certain he had pushed all the poison from his body. "You should rest," he advised.

"I will go to ground after the celebration. I think every warrior should be close just in case," Manolito said.

Gregori nodded. "Thank you again for your service to our people."

"The allegiance of the De La Cruz family has always been pledged to our prince," Manolito said. He sketched a small salute and left the two alone.

"Are you all right, Mikhail? Really all right?" Gregori asked.

Mikhail was silent for a few moments. "Yes, of course. I am just tired of so many of my people having to make a decision to exchange their life for mine. It is difficult to live with oneself after a time." He didn't wait for Gregori to reply. He shimmered into mist and streamed from the caverns toward his daughter's home.

Savannah waited anxiously for them, her thick blue-black hair a long rope down her back, anxiety in her deep blue-almost violet-eyes. She threw her arms around Mikhail's neck and held him tightly. "Papa, we were all so worried."

"I know, csitri," he replied. "I'm sorry. I'm fine, just a scratch."

"You've always called me your little girl, but now that I'm grown"-Savannah reached for Gregori, clung to his hand-"you only do so when things aren't very good. How bad are you hurt, really, Papa?" She looked up at her lifemate. "Gregori?"

Gregori framed her face with his large hands, thumbs brushing gently over her