Arosh nodded toward him. “Giovanni, Carwyn, Tenzin, and Beatrice.”

He was reminded of Zhang’s cryptic statement months before. ‘Balance, Giovanni Vecchio. Balance is the key.’

Giovanni looked up. “So, you theorized it would work for healing and, according to Ziri, it did. He found a formula to stabilize the blood for human consumption. How did you make the connection to curing bloodlust?”

“It was my idea. I guessed that if a human was strengthened by this elixir, it was possible that their blood—treated blood—might cure our insatiable hunger.”

Carwyn asked, “Did you really care at that point? None of you must have had to feed very often. As ancient as you all are, why did it matter?”

A grim smile crossed Arosh’s lips. “Pride.”

Giovanni nodded. “As strong as we are, we still need humans. Whatever disdain some may hold for humanity after hundreds or even thousands of years, we all still need them to survive.”

“Yes.” Arosh’s shoulders seemed to droop. “Only a cure for the sun is more greatly desired, but there is no hope of that. Trust me, many have tried. And will continue to try. It will not happen. Whatever god created us designed us to be mortal. The very source of this world’s energy will kill us within minutes. Even the oldest immortal cannot avoid this sentence.”

Carwyn said, “But you thought you could cure bloodlust?”

Arosh smiled at him, but turned to Giovanni. “You waited long to feed from one of my women. Tell me, my friend, do you and your mate exchange blood?”

Giovanni frowned and answered, “We do.”

“And you both feed from humans, as well.”

“Yes, but…”

Arosh cocked an eyebrow. “Not as much as before, is it? While you may have needed to feed every week before you took your wife’s immortal blood, now you can go several weeks, a month even. How does human blood taste to you now?”

He shrugged. “Pleasant, but weak.”

“Not like your mate’s blood.”

“No, her blood…” Giovanni cleared his throat and tried to rid the longing from his voice. “It is the sweetest wine. Nothing compares to it.”

Arosh’s eyes danced. “Some of what you say is sentiment, but some is not. Your wife drinks the blood of humans. You drink blood from her. In her blood, both bloods sustain you. But what if that human blood was even more strengthened by this immortal elixir? What then? Could it sustain us even longer? Could it cure us, even?”

Giovanni’s eyes narrowed and his energy snapped in the air. “Can it? Ziri said that Kato drank the blood of his human and look what it has done to him. How did this happen, Arosh? What did Geber miss? What did you miss?”

Arosh’s nostrils flared, but just then, a gust of winter wind blew from outside and cooled the room. “We all missed it. The elixir worked. It cured the humans—unfortunately, its effects were short-lived.”

Carwyn shook his head. “So, even the successful cases that Geber documented—”

“Died. Yes. The effects of the elixir lasted anywhere between two to five years by our best estimates. Then, whatever illness had afflicted the human came back. Stronger than ever.”

“Kato’s lover?”

Arosh sighed. “Kato had taken blood from Fahdil two years after the elixir was tested and appeared successful. As proud as we all were with ourselves, we were still hesitant to drink from one of the test subjects. But Kato was too attached to this human. When the young man grew ill, it affected him. He gave the elixir to Fahdil and then drank from him. But, though we had reservations, none of us thought it could really be harmful. After all, it was only a potion! And made from our own blood. Where could the real danger be?”

Giovanni tensed. “You said something in the room with Kato. You said something about the fifth element. What were you talking about?”

Arosh’s dark eyes glistened in the fire. “Something our pride did not see. We were never meant to conquer the bloodlust, son of Andreas. We only looked at what was seen, not that which is unseen. By focusing on the earthly elements, we forget that which truly animates us. The energy that sustains our immortality.”

It was a whisper on Giovanni’s lips. “Amnis.”

Arosh’s mouth lifted in the corner. “Energy. Current. It has been called many things. Magic. Aether. Your holy man would call it the soul. Others in the East would call it the void, that which is not there, but permeates all things.” Arosh stared into the crackling fire. “Whatever you call it, in immortals, it manifests as the energy that animates our bodies.” He reached out a hand and tossed the flames higher. “It lets us control our element. It lets us manipulate the thoughts and memories of humankind. It is our weapon. Our shield. And, as I have learned, it preserves our mind. This ‘amnis,’ as you call it, is the fifth element that we all share. And no elixir can replace it.”

“So blood sustains not just our bodies, but our minds and our souls, as well,” Carwyn murmured. “And we must draw it from humanity.”

Arosh nodded. “Or animals. As many, including you, have learned, the wild things of this world do carry a spark, but it is not as strong. You must drink more often.”

“And preservation kills it,” Giovanni added. “That is why we grow weak if we drink too much preserved or stored blood.”

Arosh nodded again. “We must feed on the living to sustain our bodies, but even more importantly, our minds and energy.”