" Raven spit into her hands and stumbled forward toward Jacques’s motionless body. “That vampire killed him,” she screamed hysterically. As her hands touched the forest floor, she scooped up handfuls of dirt. “Oh, God, he’s dead. You let that thing kill him!”
Using her slender body as a shield so no one could see what she was doing, Raven packed the wounds in Jacques’s throat with the soil and her healing saliva.
Drink, Jacques, now, so that you can last until Mikhail and Gregori arrive. Her wrist over his mouth, Raven continued to sob dramatically, thankful for once that so many men often thought women hysterical in a crisis.
Mikhail! Jacques is mortally wounded. He is in the sun. She sensed the approach of the human male and twisted her wrist gently in warning. Jacques was so weak, feeding blindly, he nearly missed the signal. His loss of blood was enormous. Even taking as much as he could in those few moments from Raven, she doubted if he could hold on.
With great dignity Raven covered his head and her handiwork with her cardigan and bent as if kissing him good-bye. Don’t let me down, Jacques. You must live. For me, for Mikhail, for all of us. Don’t let them win. Even as she sent the words to him, she could detect no pulse, no hint of his heart beating. "

― Christine Feehan , Dark Prince (Dark, #1)