found him collapsed against the wall just down from the coffin room. When Remus called for reinforcements, all the guards came here. Damian was trying to crawl to you."

"What made you think to check on him?" Micah asked, still kneeling on the bed.

"I remembered how bad he got the last time his tie to Anita broke. I thought someone should check on him."

"Very good thinking, mon ami." Jean-Claude touched my cheek, then Nathaniel's while keeping his other hand on Damian's face. He finally stepped back from all of us, frowning. "I believe part of what is wrong is simply that Damian has woken too early. Only the very powerful masters among us wake before noon, even deep underground. Damian is no master. I believe you, ma petite, called him from his coffin, but even with extra energy it was too soon."

I held one icy hand in both of mine. "Will he be all right? Did I hurt him?"

"I'll be all right." Damian's voice was slow, heavy, as if he were drugged.

I smiled down at him. "Damian, I'm so sorry."

He managed a weak smile. "It would be nice," he took a labored breath, "if you'd stop almost killing me because you don't want to screw other people."

I didn't know whether to smile or be exasperated.

"I believe that Damian would feel better if Nathaniel touched him, as well," Jean-Claude said.

Nathaniel took Damian's other hand in his, and the power jumped between us. It made me gasp. It was as if a circuit had been completed. The energy hummed from my hand, through Damian's body, into Nathaniel's hand and back again.

Damian drew in a huge, gasping breath, almost like it hurt. He swore, softly.

"Does it hurt?" Nathaniel asked, looking worried.

"Wonderful," Damian whispered, "feels wonderful. You're so warm."

Strangely, I was almost certain he was talking to Nathaniel.

"Sir, excuse me, sir." It was Remus; nerves always made him default to military-speak. Of course, it worked. Jean-Claude and Richard both turned to look at him. We all looked at him, except for Damian, who had closed his eyes.

"Yes, Remus," Jean-Claude said.

He finally looked at me, sort of. He never liked direct eye contact, but he seemed unable to stare at my shoulder, like normal, because too much of my