Damian walked in, staring until he found me. His face was still blank and empty. Emptier than sleep, empty as only death can make it.
"Damian, stop."
The vampire stopped. His eyes were the greenest I'd ever seen. Greener than Catherine's, more cat than human.
Dominic stepped in front of Damian. He stared at the vampire. He laid the silver blade against the pale cheek and pulled the point downward, sharply.
Blood flowed down that perfect paleness in a thin crimson wash. The vampire never reacted, not even to blink.
"Anita," Dominic said.
I stared at Damian, no, Damian's shell. I flung power at him, into him. I willed him to live. That was the word I whispered to him.
The blood slowed, then stopped. The cut knit together seamlessly. It was... easy.
Dominic wiped the blood away with a handkerchief he'd drawn from his jacket pocket. Damian's pale cheek was flawless once more.
It was Cassandra who said it first, "She could heal Sabin."
Dominic nodded. "She just might." He turned to me with a look of triumph, elation. "You would need the power of your triumvirate to raise Sabin during his daylight slumber, but once raised, I think you could heal him."
"A shallow cut is one thing," I said. "Sabin is a... mess."
"Will you try?"
"If we can put these three vamps back unharmed, yeah, I'll try."
"Tomorrow."
I nodded. "Why not?"
"I cannot wait to tell Sabin what I have seen here today. He has been without hope for so long. But first, we must put your friends back. I will help you all I can."
I smiled. "I know enough of magic, Dominic, to know that all you can do is advise from the sidelines."
"But it will be very good advice," he said with a smile.
I believed him. For Sabin's sake, he wanted us to succeed. "Okay, let's do it." I held my hands out to Richard and Jean-Claude. They took my hands dutifully enough, and it was pleasant holding their hands. Both of them were warm and lovely, but there was no instant magic. No spark. I realized that in some strange way, the sexual interplay took the place of the ritual. Rituals aren't absolutely necessary to most magic, but they serve as a way to focus, to prepare yourself for the act of casting a spell. I had no blood circle to walk. I had no sacrifice to kill. I had no paraphernalia to use. All I had was the two men standing in front of me, my own body, and the knife at my wrist. I turned away from both of them.
"Nothing's happening," I said.
"What do you expect to happen?" Dominic asked.
I shrugged. "Something. I don't know."
"You are trying too hard, Anita. Relax, let the power come to you."
I rotated my shoulders, trying to ease the tension. It didn't work. "I really wish you hadn't reminded me that some of the vamps could rise before dark. It's late afternoon, and we're underground. It could already be too late."
"Thinking like that is not helpful," Dominic said.
Jean-Claude walked up to me, and even before he touched me, there was a rush of power like a spill of warmth over my skin. "Don't touch me," I said.
I felt him hesitate behind me. "What is wrong, ma petite?"
"Nothing." I turned to face him. I held my hand just above his bare chest and that line of warmth traveled from his skin to mine. It was as if his body breathed against me. "Do you feel that?"
He cocked his head to one side. "Magic."