First Drop Of Crimson Part 12

"Do you want to wait, or should we get started now?"

"Let's get started," Spade replied. "Emma, please draw all the curtains. Alten, bring Mr.

Higgins's case, and then turn on every telly and radio in the house. Loud." The housekeeper didn't go to the windows, but instead took a remote control and began pressing b.u.t.tons. The drapes began to close. Mechanically controlled, Denise thought, shaking her head. Her mother would love that, let alone all the other expensive upgrades Spade's house contained.

Alten carried a suitcase into the room and left it at Chad's feet. Spade nodded at Emma and Alten, who took that as their cue to leave.

While the TV and other devices began to blare from every room, Chad opened the hard-sided suitcase and started pulling items out of it. Denise couldn't help but peer curiously over his shoulder. The interior of the case was custom, because the larger pieces came out of their own padded, contoured cradles. Chad began to lay objects on a shiny steel tray.

One looked like an oddly shaped power drill, then a package containing several long metal sticks, mini dark bottles, a cord, some sort of pedal, a razor, a squirt bottle, surgical gloves, something that resembled a square surge protector, and was that a watercolor set?

"I think it's time to be very specific about your plan," Denise said.

Spade sat on the couch, indicating the place next to him. She sat as well, but stiffly, putting her wrapped hands in her lap.

"Chad and Francine are demonologists," Spade said, keeping his voice low. Denise didn't think it was possible Raum could overhear anything with all the other noise, even if he was still nearby. "They're also vampires, so they've been studying demons and people affected by them for quite a while. Such a long while, in fact, that they're the ones who once helped a bloke with demon marks on his forearms*" Denise sucked in her breath. Nathanial.

"* which is why I had to leave you here. If the demon could track you through those brands, then someone, somewhere, had to know how to negate them. So I needed time to track down the best experts on demonology, and I needed to do that without your demon being able to follow me," Spade continued, his gaze steady.

She'd been right. Nathanial did manage to have the marks negated*at least enough that they weren't used to track him anymore, and possibly enough that the marks didn't continue to turn Nathanial into a monster. It made sense. If Nathanial had transformed wholly into some sort of beast, that would've made him a lot easier to find. People tended to notice a monster among them, even jaded people like vampires and ghouls.

Denise was so excited that she threw her arms around Spade, freaky towel-covered hands and all. She thought he'd left her for no reason, but he'd been out finding the people who'd helped Nathanial give Raum the boot. Maybe there was hope for her family and her after all.

"Spade," she choked, unable to find the words to tell him how grateful she was.

His hands slid across her back, and then slowly, he pushed her away.

"You don't owe me anything," he said, as something flashed across his face. "I don't need reimburs.e.m.e.nt or grat.i.tude to see this through to the end. I made a promise. There's nothing more required from you for me to keep it."

Denise sat back, stung. Was this Spade's way of reminding her that things were strictly business between them, so she should lay off the looks and the hot flashes?

"Right," she said, scooting back farther away from him on the couch. Then the numb composure that had seen her through Randy's funeral and the months of dealing with PTSD came to the rescue, blanketing her hurt. Spade was doing her and her family an incredible favor. She wouldn't spend however much longer it took sulking over being rejected. He might not want her grat.i.tude, but he was going to get it, and her cooperation.

"What do I need to do?" she asked, proud her voice was even and calm.

Spade gave her a look she couldn't read. "Chad's going to tattoo you." Of all his possible replies, that one she didn't expect. "Come again?"

"To simplify the explanation, brands are essentially permanent symbols representing a demon's power," Francine said, coming over to sit by Denise. "What we're going to do is cover them with our own permanent symbols of power. These symbols will deflect the demon's tie with you, or at least mute it to levels that the demon shouldn't be able to strengthen*unless you come into contact with him again and he rebrands you. So don't do that."

Denise couldn't stop her bark of laughter. "I don't plan to." Chad was still arranging things, but he still spoke even though he didn't glance up. "You can get preventive symbols, too. The ones on my arms are protection spells. Did them when I was human. They kept stray, noncorporeal demons from being able to possess me.

You want any of those?"

This was so much to take in. "Do I need them?"

"I doubt it," Francine replied. "Demon possession is rare, and it's done by lesser demons trying to cross over. Most people never come into contact with demons, but when we were human, we needed them. When you fight demons, they fight back." Denise gulped. Considering how enraged Raum had been earlier, that wasn't a comforting thought.

"Just another few minutes," Chad said. "Then we'll get you marked up." Chad began mixing various packets of powders with the content of a few of the small bottles, frowning at the wet, black ma.s.s in the dish.

"We'll have to test you before we begin the tattoos," he said. "Take off those towels and give me your arm."

"No."

Spade said it before Denise could begin to sputter out a refusal. His dark gaze was unreadable.

"The towels stay on. You'll need to work around them," he continued.

Chad looked like he wanted to argue, but Francine shrugged. "As long as the brands don't reach into her hands, that should be fine," she said.

"It's not proper procedure," Chad muttered.

Francine smiled at Denise. "Artists are always a bit temperamental, and Chad was an artist before he became a demonologist or a vampire." Denise smiled back at the woman, a little tentatively. Francine had such a warm, welcoming vibe about her. It made her occupation*and her being a vampire*seem so at odds with her personality.

Or was it? Francine was the first demonologist Denise met, and in truth, she hadn't known that many vampires. There was the one who tried to eat her when she met Cat, of course, and Cat herself was half vampire. Then Bones, Spade, Ian, Ian's sire Mencheres, Tate, a bunch of guards she never exchanged a real h.e.l.lo with* and now Emma, Alten, Francine, and Chad.

Less than a dozen, she realized. Not many to form an opinion about the entire species from, if she was being fair. But still, that New Year's Eve, she'd seen how ugly the undead world could get.

"Denise."

Spade said her name like it hadn't been the first time. "Sorry," she said, giving her head a small shake. "What do you need me to do again?"

"Sit on the floor and put your arm on the table, sleeves up," Chad said.

Denise sat, trying to roll up the sleeve of her right arm while being careful that the towels didn't fall off. Trying to get a grip on anything with her clawed hands bundled up was difficult, to say the least. After a second, Spade just tugged her sleeve up for her. Chad and Francine exchanged a glance, but didn't say anything.

Chad looked over the exposed brand, whistling low. "It's deep," he said at last, tracing the star-shaped markings on her skin. "We'll need to shave you and sterilize the area," Chad went on, soaping and then shaving her inner forearm with a few quick, thorough swipes. After a spritz from the bottle next to him, he picked up one of those metal chopsticks with sharpened ends. Next Chad dipped the end of it in the panel that looked like a child's watercolor set, but was actually the place to hold ink, it appeared. Then Chad poked her in the middle of her branded forearm hard enough to break her skin.

It pinched, but not bad. More like one of those finger-p.r.i.c.k blood tests. Francine and Chad were staring very intently at her, though, as a drop of her blood mixed with the dark ink* and then the blackness faded to crimson.

"We have a problem," Chad muttered.

Chapter Fifteen.

"What problem?" Denise and Spade asked at the same time.

Chad swiped at the drop of her blood, bringing it toward his mouth*and then his arm was gripped in Spade's hand.

"If you taste her blood," Spade said, very quietly, "I'll kill you." Francine stood up at that. "You have a very good reputation, but I won't tolerate threats*"

"There will be no threats, as long as he doesn't try to taste her blood again," Spade cut her off, his tone pleasant and lethal at the same time.

"Just like the other vampire," Chad said, shaking his head.

Denise leaned forward. "What other vampire?"

Spade wiped her blood off Chad's finger, then with an arched brow, squirted it with the solution from the bottle and wiped it again.

"The vampire that was with that human, the one who had the brands like yours," Chad replied, sounding a little annoyed. "He freaked over us not tasting the human's blood. I'd forgotten about it until just now."

Spade met her gaze, but Denise already knew not to say anything. Still, inside, she hummed with excitement. It verified that the vampire who brought Nathanial to Chad and Francine all those years ago obviously knew Nathanial's blood had been turned into a drug from the brands. Just like hers. Tracking Nathanial through the Red Dragon trade would work. It had to.

"Remember the bloke's name?" Spade asked.

Both Chad and Francine shook their heads. "He was a young vampire at the time. That's all I remember," Chad said.

"Must have been his property," Spade said, dismissing it as if it were nothing. "Not polite to try and feed from someone's property, even a drop." He didn't trust them knowing. Denise felt a shiver of fear. She'd been so focused on the brands turning her into a monster, she hadn't dwelled on how their other side effect might be dangerous. Spade might not want anything to do with the drugging effects of her blood, but others would. Red Dragon was the substance vampires bought to get high, and here Denise had it running all through her veins.

"As I said, we have a problem," Chad continued. "Her blood overpowered the mixture in the ink, which means anything we'd tattoo over her brands would be worthless. We need to increase the dosage in the ink. A lot."

"Okay, so do it," Denise said. "Do whatever you did with my* with that other human who had brands like this."

"It will burn," Francine said in a sympathetic tone.

If it would keep Raum from tracking her and possibly stop her from warping into a monster, it could burn like h.e.l.l and she'd still do it.

"That's okay. Let's just get it over with," Denise replied steadily.

Francine patted her. "Chad, use the Jerusalem salt," she said, her tone becoming brisk and businesslike.

Chad picked a small bottle out of his suitcase and gave Spade a meaningful look. "This changes the price."

Denise cringed in guilt even as Spade snapped, "Let that be the last mention you make of price in front of her."

"Chad," Francine said in a lightly chastising way. Then she smiled at Spade. "My apologies. We'll settle such matters once everything is complete. The important thing is to get our lovely girl here taken care of."

"Quite," Spade said, still with an edge in his voice.

Denise wanted the ground to swallow her, but she refused to let her embarra.s.sment show.

I don't care what Spade says, I'm going to find a way to repay him, she promised herself.

"What's Jerusalem salt?" she asked, to change the subject.

"Salt is a natural weapon against demons. Jerusalem salt is even more powerful, because it's drawn from the place where all the major religions of the world converge. Then it's specially milled there and mixed with, well, with things I can't tell you," Francine finished with a smile. "But it should work to cover the power in your brands."

"Ready," Chad said a minute later. He dipped another metal stick into his new ink creation, then jabbed the tip into Denise's forearm.

Fire sizzled up her arm, so unexpected and intense, Denise couldn't stop from crying out and jerking her arm back. They'd said it would hurt, but she hadn't been prepared for this kind of agony. It was just as bad as when Raum had branded her.

"Turning black," Chad said in satisfaction, staring at the drop of blood that pearled on her arm. Then his gaze flicked to Spade. "You'll need to hold her down while we do the tattooing."

Denise tried to push her attention past the flaming pain in her arm. It didn't even seem possible that it had come from a wound so small, it was little more than a needle p.r.i.c.k.

"How much tattooing? A few outlines?" she asked.

Her hope was dashed by Chad's reply. "I'll be filling in a pattern over both your arms. It will take a few hours."

She shuddered as Chad got out that odd-looking power drill that she now knew was the tattoo machine. Hours, being held down while she experienced the same sort of pain that had almost driven her mad when Raum inflicted it on her for a mere few minutes. Denise thought she'd throw up, but there was no other choice.

"I'm going to need a drink first," she said, inhaling deeply. Maybe a whole bottle. Or a concussion. Anything to numb the pain.

"Denise." Spade knelt beside her, intensity lurking in his gaze. "You made me swear a blood oath, but you can release me from it. Let me ease this for you. You don't need to feel a thing."

She was confused for a second, but then his meaning clicked. "No. I don't want you controlling my mind."

"And I don't want to hold you down while you're in agony for hours," Spade replied flatly. "If you hadn't made me swear by my blood not to mesmerize you, I wouldn't even ask."

She turned to Francine. "The other guy with the brands like mine, did he handle it on his own? Or did he have the vampire with him mind-trick him?" Francine's expression was guarded. "He couldn't be mesmerized. The vampire tried, but it didn't work."

Because of the effect of the brands, Denise realized with a sinking feeling. The inhumanity in Nathanial had grown to a point where even a vampire's power couldn't breach it.

"The vampire with him was young, you said, and I am a Master," Spade replied. "I can do it."

He had total confidence in his voice. Denise wavered. It wasn't just the pain she feared, although the burn in her arm still throbbed enough for that fear to be very real. Even if the logical part of her realized it was for a necessary cause, being held down while she was, in essence, tortured for hours by a vampire would bring on a PTSD attack as surely she breathed. Even now, that familiar-feeling panic was rising in her. It seemed inevitable that she would lose control of her mind one way or the other, either in a flashback of that horrible night, or from the pull of Spade's eyes.

"Trust me, Denise," he said, very softly.

She took a deep breath. The idea of giving up control of her mind was something she fiercely hated. Already her PTSD had cost her enough of that. But* she did trust him.

As odd as it was, she trusted Spade more than anyone else in her life right now. Besides, she'd wanted to show Spade her grat.i.tude. Well, keeping him from needing to restrain her for hours while she had a severe panic attack seemed like the least she could do.

"All right."

Spade smiled, and the sight of it distracted her from everything else for a second. He was handsome even with his normal guarded expression, but when he smiled, he was breathtaking. Pity he didn't smile more often.

His eyes changed, becoming green in the next instant. Denise's first instinct was to look away, because she knew this would be different from every other time she'd seen them this way, but she didn't. She stared right into his gaze as their color flared even brighter.

"I can feel you resisting me." His voice sounded deeper. Almost vibrating. "Let me in, Denise. It's all right. You'll be safe*"

Her eyelids suddenly felt heavier. Spade was still talking, but his words became indistinct, blurring together. Her vision narrowed until it seemed like all she could see was the beautiful emerald blaze from his eyes. Their powerful glow wasn't frightening anymore. They were so lovely*

She blinked. Spade's face was still right in front of hers, his expression intense.

Resignation rose in her.

"It's not working," she said, steeling herself for what was to come.

A smile eased across Spade's face. "You're finished." Denise looked at her arms. Intricate patterns covered the brands from her wrists to her elbows, like black lace st.i.tched into her skin. There was no pain, not even a twinge.

Francine and Chad were gone, but she was in front of the fireplace with her arms stretched across the table, something like Vaseline spread on them.