Delgrotto bowed low. “I must ask you for a glass of water. I have not traveled so fast, or so far, in years. My lungs are not what they used to be. Forgive me bothering you, when I have not properly greeted you in many years.” His gaze settled on Rachael.

There was a small silence. Rio stood very still. Rachael lifted her chin, her dark eyes alive with distaste.

“This is obviously your woman. You’ve found her. You must introduce me.”

“I’m sorry, Elder, forgive my lack of manners. I’m so surprised by your visit I’ve forgotten basic courtesy.” Rio handed the man a glass of water. “This is Rachael. Rachael, Peter Delgrotto, an elder in our village.”

Rachael managed a smile but she didn’t murmur pleasantries. She was pleased that Rio thought to protect her, that he hadn’t given away her infamous last name. Sensing how nervous Rio was, she stood up and casually crossed the room to stand just behind him, wanting to be close in case he needed her.

Delgrotto inclined his head, returning her smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Very nice to meet you, Rachael.” He turned to look at Rio and the smile faded.

Rio felt the impact of the elder’s stare. It had been many years since any other than his unit members had looked at him or spoken to him. He felt behind him for the sink, something to grip out of sight of the elder. Rachael slipped her hand into his. A show of solidarity and support. “What is it, Elder? What is so important that you would break the law of our people?” There was little point in beating around the bush.

“I have no right to come to you, Rio. Not after the sentence handed down by the council.” Delgrotto met his gaze steadily. “By me. I have removed myself as a council member and am prepared to pay the consequences of my actions. I told the Seat of Power what I intended and asked they withhold sentencing until it is done. They agreed.”

Rachael could see the pride on the older man’s face. Rio reached out and took his arm, led him to the most comfortable chair and seated him. “What is it?” Delgrotto suddenly looked every bit of his eighty years and then some.

“My grandson lies near death. No one can save him without your blood. None of us carry the rare blood you have. Without you he will die. I lost my firstborn son to poachers. He had no children. I lost my only other child and his mate to an accident. I have no other family left. I don’t want to lose him. Not out of pride or stubbornness. Not for any antiquated law. I’m asking you to save him.”

“Where is he?”

“He lies in the village at the small hospital there.”