First Drop Of Crimson Part 3

"But*" She still seemed at a loss for words.

"You lived with Cat and Crispin for over a month; did you never see him feed?"

"He never did it in front of me!" Denise exclaimed, like he'd suggested something preposterous.

Spade rolled his eyes. "You'll have to get used to it, because I've no intention of starving."

Denise looked down at the cooling food on the tray. "I think I lost my appet.i.te," she muttered.

He bit back what would have been an annoyed reply. No need to snipe at her when she'd had a truly horrible day.

"Make yourself comfortable in the bed. I'll sleep in the chair," he said, pulling off his shirt.

He was undoing his trousers when Denise's expression stopped him. Right, humans and their silly modesty. It had been a long time since he'd been around average mortals. The ones he a.s.sociated with were all familiar with a vampire's lifestyle and habits. He'd have to remember what was appropriate and what wasn't.

"I dragged you into this," she said stubbornly. "I'm taking the chair." He almost rolled his eyes again. As if he'd allow a woman to stuff herself in a chair while he was stretched out in bed. "No."

"I'd feel better if*"

"I wouldn't," he cut her off. "And I'll remind you again that since I'm helping you, the least you could do is not argue with me over every little thing." Frustration and defiance competed on her features, but she clamped her mouth shut.

Good on you, darling. Perhaps this won't be such a burden after all.

"Sleep well, Denise."

Chapter Four.

She awoke to the sounds of an English accent. For a moment she was confused. Had she left the TV on? Then the events of the previous, nightmarish day came back to her. Paul, murdered. She, branded by a demon. The owner of the accent, a vampire who wanted nothing to do with her, but who was her family's only hope.

"Ah, you're awake," Spade said, closing his cell with a click. "Ordered you breakfast, considering you didn't touch your food last night." His mouth curled in a grin. "You'll be pleased to know you slept through my breakfast. Perhaps now you'll be able to keep your appet.i.te."

"You eat the room service employees every time?" Denise asked, shocked.

"Of course. But don't fret on their behalf. I always tip well." A sharp pain in her stomach brought her attention to the cart with the covered dishes and the mouthwatering scent wafting from it. Suddenly ravenous, Denise flung the covers back and went to the cart, flipping off the top of the container closest to her. Pancakes.

She picked one up and stuffed it into her mouth, closing her eyes in rapture. So good.

It was gone too soon. She grabbed another one, too hungry to bother with syrup or silverware, and popped it in her mouth. Mmmm. Delicious. More.

She'd just finished the third pancake when she noticed Spade watching her. He glanced at her now-empty plate, then at the untouched silverware, and back to her.

Denise felt a flush heat her face. What was wrong with her? It hadn't been that long since she'd eaten.

"I, uh, was really hungry," she stammered.

His mouth quirked. "It would seem so."

As if to accentuate the point, another pain jabbed her in the stomach, followed by a rumbling, audible gurgle. Denise forced herself to arrange the napkin neatly on her lap, pick up her silverware, and cut the contents of the next container*country fried steak and eggs, her favorite!*into small pieces before taking her next bite. By that time, the rumble in her stomach had increased to almost a roar. Spade continued to watch her, that half smile still curling his mouth.

"Always enjoy seeing a woman with a healthy appet.i.te," he said, amus.e.m.e.nt clear in his tone.

Denise quit the pretense and speared two chunks of fried steak at once, chewing them while giving Spade a glare that dared him to comment. So she was a little too hungry at the moment to eat like a bird, who cared? Maybe it had been longer than she realized since the last time she'd eaten.

"Do you have a plan for how we're going to start looking for Nathanial?" she asked after she'd finished all the steak and eggs. Would it look too piggish to move on to the next shiny container? Screw it. Who knew when they'd break for another meal?

"I do," Spade replied. "We'll start with my line. Though I don't have any blokes named Nathanial in it, who's to say your ancestor didn't change his name? You do remember what he looks like from what Raum showed you, yes?"

Denise shuddered. "Yes." As if she could forget all the horrible images Raum had forced onto her mind.

"Good. I'll hold an a.s.sembly and you can pick through my people's property. See if you recognize any of them."

"You know, it's really rude how you keep referring to humans as property. I'm human, too, remember?"

Something glinted in his gaze. "I remember it well. Which is why I'll be introducing you to my line as my newest piece of property."

Her jaw dropped. "Oh no, you won't."

He waved an elegant hand. "You don't want Crispin or Cat to find out what you're up to, so this is best disguise. I don't date humans; that's common knowledge. But I do have other uses for them, and no one would question a vampire traveling with his property. We seldom go anywhere without one or two of them along, in fact." His expression practically dared her to argue with him. Denise paused. What if this was Spade's way of trying to get out of helping her? If she refused to go along with this charade, he could abandon her without a second thought. Maybe he wasn't as concerned about keeping Bones out of this as she'd bargained on.

"Fine," Denise forced herself to say, thinking of her parents. A little embarra.s.sment was nothing if it ended up saving them.

Spade seemed to be waiting for her to say something else. Denise picked up her fork and began to eat the fruit salad in the next container.

"Good," he said at last. "We'll be in St. Louis later today." Spade snapped his mobile shut. That was the last of the calls he needed to make. While it wasn't common for him to gather his people to introduce a new human as property, he'd been traveling most of the past year, so several things had piled up that needed his attention.

Denise had been very quiet the past three days. He suspected it had to do with the call she'd placed to her family, telling them she was taking off to grieve for her cousin privately. From what Spade could hear, that hadn't gone over well, though she couldn't explain that she wasn't abandoning them in their time of need, but trying to help them instead.

Still, her brooding had to stop. If Denise slipped up in her charade as his latest property in front of his people, Spade could contain the negative results. In front of another Master vampire, one who wasn't an ally? That could be deadly.

You need to get your back up, Denise, he thought. And I know how to help.

Spade went down to the first floor, guessing that he'd find Denise in the kitchen. She'd proven to have a voracious appet.i.te regardless of her mood. All his residences had a cook to make sure the human members of his line were well fed. Henry, the chef for his St.

Louis home, had been even busier since Spade arrived with Denise.

"Sire," Henry said to Spade.

It amused Spade to see Denise's reaction. Her back was to him, but the tightening in her shoulders was unmistakable. His t.i.tle among the members of his line made Denise uncomfortable. It didn't bother Spade. After all, he'd been addressed far more formally back when he was human.

"Henry." Spade nodded at the young man before taking the seat next to Denise at the kitchen table. From the looks of her plate, she'd been eating lasagna, heavy on the garlic.

He stifled a smile. Cat had told Denise a lot about vampires, but not everything. Spade plucked a sauted clove off her plate and ate it, making sure to grunt in feigned bliss.

"Ah, Henry, delicious. I'll take a plate myself."

"Won't that make you sick?" Denise asked in surprise.

He kept his expression blank. "I can eat solid food. I just don't prefer to most of the time."

"Not that." Denise waved a hand. "Garlic. Doesn't that make vampires sick?"

"Indeed not. That's one of the reasons I so enjoy visiting Italy. Can't swing a cat without hitting a vein seasoned full of that delicious flavor." Spade licked his lips. Denise saw it and blanched, pushing her plate back. It was all he could do to contain his laughter.

"I have a present for you," he said, as if he hadn't noticed her reaction.

Suspicion clouded her gaze. "Why?"

She really needed to work on her acting skills. No new human in his line would use such a tone with him, especially with others around.

He rose. "Come."

"Sire, would you still like the food?" Henry asked.

Spade held out his hand to Denise. She paused. "Keep it warm for me," he said to Henry, and hardened his gaze at Denise. Take it, he silently told her.

She slid her hand into his. Her flesh was warm, almost feverish, except there was no glaze to her eyes that spoke of illness. No, they were bright with irritation over his little power play. Spade ignored that, clasping her hand and pulling her out of her chair. He didn't let go once she was on her feet, either, despite her tug.

"Let's go to my room, darling," he said, making sure his voice was loud and clear.

Her eyes widened. She'd slept in her own room since they arrived, because demons couldn't enter private residences, even if Raum had managed to follow them across several states. But it didn't do for there to be doubts among the people here as to her station with him.

To her credit, Denise didn't sputter out an indignant refusal. She pressed her lips together and let him lead her up the stairs. If he didn't know better, he'd think her temperature flared a degree in just the time it took them to get to his room.

Once inside, she shut the door and then pulled her hand away. "There are limits as to how far I'm willing to take this act."

He didn't show his irritation at her implication that he'd use the circ.u.mstances to coerce her into bed. "Name them."

From the way her mouth opened and closed, she hadn't expected that response. Finally she said, "It would take less time to list the things I would do."

"So list that, and I'll tell you if you need to add to it." That challenging look was back in her eye. Spade smiled inwardly. Anger was good for her spirit. It was bad for his plan if she couldn't balance it with common sense, but time would prove if Denise was as smart as she was lovely.

"All right." She squared her shoulders, her dark hair rustling with the movement.

"Obviously I'm willing to bunk with you when the circ.u.mstances call for it. I can act subservient if necessary, but don't expect it once we're alone. I can act affectionate and even kiss you to make things look real. But it stops there, and I'm not letting you drink from me."

Spade couldn't help himself. "With all that delectable garlic in your blood? I shed a tear." Her gaze narrowed. "You're making fun of me."

He allowed himself a smile. "A little."

"Are you done?" Her chin thrust out, as did her shoulders. Spade's smile widened. If she knew how her aggressive stance made her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jut out even more enticingly, he rather doubted she'd keep it.

And far be it for him to say such an ungentlemanly thing out loud.

Spade pushed that thought aside, because it led to other musings best not explored. "As to your limits, they should suffice, though you need to get over your aversion to close proximity with me. Vampires are often affectionate in public with their property. If I should lean close to you, or put my arm around you, it would look odd if you jumped like you'd been stabbed."

Denise had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry. I'll work on that."

"Indeed." He couldn't keep the dryness out of his tone. "And while I'll confess it was fun watching you choke yourself on garlic the past few days, you need have no fear of me biting you."

So much relief crossed her face that he was torn between being amused and being insulted. Had she been about to invest in a silver neck brace next?

"As for things going further than kissing, you need not fret about that, either," he went on, raking her with a gaze. "I don't lack for bed partners, so I don't need to scrounge for unwilling sc.r.a.ps."

Her breath sucked in, those hazel eyes looking greener with her anger. It had to be a trick of the light, but again, they reminded him of a vampire's. He gave her another rake of his gaze, more slowly this time. Pity she wasn't a vampire. If so, he might forget Denise was under Crispin's protection. He might forget he shouldn't mix pleasure with business, and he might test whether she was over her grief for that poor bloke who was torn to pieces.

Spade took a step closer, something inside him flaring when he noticed her breathing change. It became faster, as did her heartbeat. He took another step and then her scent changed, too, that honey and jasmine fragrance growing stronger. With his next step, he was a foot away, able to feel her residual body heat from the air around her. Her eyes were wide, more brown than green now, and her mouth*full, luscious*parted ever so slightly. Would she taste like honey and jasmine if he kissed her? Or would she have a richer, darker flavor, like the depth of her spirit he caught glimpses of in her eyes?

Abruptly he spun on his heel. Denise wasn't a vampire, so there was no point wondering such things. They'd find Nathanial and give him to Raum. Then, once she had those demon marks off, she'd walk away from him, soon to be dead as all humans were.

And he wasn't going through that again.

"Your outfit for tonight is on the dresser," he said, and slammed the door behind him.

Chapter Five.

Denise took a deep breath and tried to act nonchalant. It was a good thing the heat was on in this hotel, or with what she was wearing, she'd freeze.

An attendant had taken her coat as soon as Denise entered the Khora.s.san Ballroom with Spade. It was a huge room, fitting well over two thousand, and yet it was still almost full.

The sheer size of Spade's line was staggering. Then once her coat was off, even though she was amid so many people, heads turned.

Denise raised her chin and refused to cringe. Go on, look. You've seen more skin on a beach, it isn't that shocking.

Except this wasn't a beach, though what she was wearing looked inspired by a bikini. Her top was a diaphanous bolero, and the matching sheer pantalets looked swiped straight from the set of I Dream of Jeannie.

Vampires are perverts, every last one of them, Cat had said on many occasions. If this was standard "property" garb for an undead event, then Cat was dead right.

Denise had expected a smart-a.s.sed remark from Spade when she came downstairs in her ridiculous garb. Why wouldn't he be amused? He was the one who'd gotten this harem-girl outfit for her to wear. But he'd only glanced at her for the barest second and then handed her a coat, remarking that it was cold outside.

Of course it was. February in St. Louis wasn't supposed to be balmy. If Spade had a heart, she'd be in pants and a sweater. He wasn't scantily dressed, wearing a long black coat over a white shirt and black pants that fit him so well, they had to be custom designed. With his dark striking looks, Spade practically dripped with decadent elegance, and here she was, like a knock-off Scheherazade.

So the least he could do was take the time to appreciate how the costume he'd foisted on her looked. Or notice that she'd done her hair and makeup in a very flattering way, if she said so herself. She might be getting introduced as property, but she'd make sure people knew this property was high-end, dammit.