First Drop Of Crimson Part 9

Denise glanced at her feet, shuffling uneasily, but not saying a word. Smart la.s.s. He'd trust Ian with many things, but not this.

Ian's clear turquoise gaze considered him. Spade kept his face impa.s.sive. If Ian couldn't direct him to a source, he'd go to someone else who could. Red Dragon might be rare and illegal, but there were ways to find it. There were ways to find anything, if one was prepared to look hard enough.

"I'll tell you who I got mine from," Ian said at last. "Can't promise the bloke is still dealing it; that was a few years ago. In any event, his name's Black Jack, and at the time, he frequented the high-stakes games at the Bellagio."

"The Bellagio in Vegas?" Spade clarified.

Ian shrugged. "It is Sin City, after all."

That muscle ticked in Spade's jaw again. "So it is. That offer of a room still open, mate?"

"Why?" Denise blurted.

Spade took her hand and gave it a light squeeze, but Ian just laughed.

"Don't care for me, poppet? I suppose it's those wretched stories Cat must have told about me. Women do like to exaggerate."

"You're saying you didn't try to blackmail Cat into having s.e.x with you by threatening to kill some of her soldiers?" Denise asked, ignoring Spade's tightening grip on her hand.

Ian's smile was shameless. "Ah, that? Yes, I did that." Denise's hand seemed to get warmer while her scent sharpened with anger. "That's more than enough reason not to like you."

"Denise." Spade turned her to face him. "Trust me on this." She shot another mutinous glare at Ian, but nodded.

Glad she wouldn't argue further, even though Ian had been deliberately baiting her, Spade pressed a kiss to Denise's forehead. As soon as his lips touched her skin, however, she froze. So did he.

Kissing her felt like such a natural thing to do, he hadn't even thought before acting on the impulse. But now the memory of the last time his mouth had been on her flashed across his mind.

Spade couldn't stop the flare of heat inside him. Some of Denise's response could be rationalized as the normal reaction any human would have to a carefully placed vampire bite. Not all of it. Not even half of it. Despite her aversion to the vampire world, her PTSD, and the grief that still shadowed her for her slain husband, Denise wanted him.

And despite her humanity, the growing danger she was in, and his own common sense, he wanted her, too. So badly it burned.

Spade's lips slowly left her skin, her heat still lingering on them. When he caught the deepening fragrance blossoming from her, it was all he could do not to press them to her mouth.

"Will you be needing that room now?" Ian asked with heavy irony.

Denise wasn't amused by Ian's comment. She spun around and walked away.

"Second floor, third door on your left. Springy mattress, too," Ian called out.

Spade crossed over to Ian in a blink, stopping himself just in time, though his hands were still curled into fists.

"Were you about to strike me, Charles?" Ian asked, disbelief replacing the amus.e.m.e.nt on his face.

Spade relaxed his hands. He'd never acted in such a way over a human in all the centuries he'd known Ian. In truth, he'd never acted such a way over anyone, vampire or human.

He had to get control of himself when it came to Denise. The situations they'd be in to track Nathanial wouldn't allow for witless, possessive responses like this.

"I know it's your nature to act this way, Ian, but try to curb it when you're around Denise," Spade managed to say in a very calm tone.

Ian stood, his movements slow and deliberate, then he placed his hands on Spade's shoulders.

"I don't know what's going on between you two, but it's starting to concern me.

Sneaking behind your best mate's back. Seeking out Red Dragon. Your temper snapping over any perceived slight to her. Have a pause, mate. This isn't like you." No, it wasn't, and Spade knew it. But he couldn't pause. Time was running out in more ways than one.

"Don't fret about me," he replied, touching Ian's hands briefly before stepping away. "I know what I'm doing."

He started toward the direction Denise had gone*which was out the front door, not up the stairs to the room with the springy mattress*when Ian's voice chased after him.

"I'm starting to doubt that, Charles."

Spade didn't respond. He was starting to doubt it, too.

Denise rubbed the brands underneath her long sleeves. Amid her embarra.s.sment, confusion, and frustration, she was also starving. d.a.m.n Raum and Nathanial. If not for them, her cousins and aunt would still be alive. She'd be home, trying to rebuild her life in as normal a way as she could. Not here, outside this monstrosity of a house owned by an undead a.s.shole. She'd been so careful to stay away from other, dark world, yet none of her precautions seemed to have made a difference, because here she was, cursing one vampire while inexorably drawn to the other.

Spade had to know she was attracted to him. Cat told her vampires could smell emotions in humans, like anger, deception, fear*or desire. Spade wouldn't have even needed undead senses back in the park, but she hoped he was too drugged to fully register what happened. Now she'd ruined any chance of Spade pa.s.sing that off as something misremembered. What was wrong with her? He'd told her to expect casual displays of affection as part of their act. She hoped Spade thought she was just going for an Academy Award with her response to his kiss on her forehead.

Denise rubbed the brands again, wishing she could sc.r.a.pe them off and be done with it.

Not that it would do any good. Raum's essence would still be pumped through her with every beat of her heart. These brands were only her "leash," or his form of a demonic LoJack. If Nathanial was similarly branded*and based on the images Raum showed her, he was*why did the demon need her at all? Why couldn't he just track Nathanial the same way he'd tracked her?

She turned to resume her pacing* and collided with Spade. He'd come outside without her hearing it, and she, so distracted, had walked right into him.

Spade steadied her with a cool hand on each arm. His tiger-colored gaze was hooded. He opened his mouth, then paused, like he had something unpleasant to say and was choosing his words.

Denise was so anxious to cut off a humiliating discussion about her earlier reaction to him that she babbled the first thing that came to mind.

"What if Nathanial's blocking Raum? Nathanial has these, too"*she held out her wrists*"but Raum needs me to find him. That doesn't make sense, unless Nathanial discovered a way to negate the marks, even if it was only enough to throw Raum off his tail."

Whatever Spade had been about to say, that succeeded in distracting him. He frowned, his eyes raking over her covered wrists.

"You're right. Or Raum is lying about being able to track you through them and he's just following us instead. The possibility changes what I had planned, but it's worth investigating."

Denise wondered what the old plan had been. What if Spade was about to say he couldn't continue helping her? That her obvious attraction made it too awkward, or that his rejections would get colder due to necessity? He must think she was a special sort of stupid with how she kept coming on to him even though he'd made it clear that this was just business for him. Yes, Spade had responded in the park, but he'd also been half crazed from the effects in her blood. Add that to the general perverted nature of vampires, and Denise expected Spade would've acted the same way even if she'd been a sheep.

She should let him walk away. She'd manipulated him into something that had already cost him a great deal, both in time and in money. How could she continue to use him, even if it was for a good cause? She wasn't any better than Raum or her soul-selling relative.

Denise straightened. "This is turning into a lot more than you agreed to and it's not fair. It wasn't fair to begin with, but I was so scared then, I*I wasn't thinking. I am now, though, and I can't let you keep helping me."

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "You think you can walk away and handle this on your own?"

"I know a lot more than I did to begin with, and maybe* maybe I could even hire Ian to help me," she added, hating the idea but willing to try anything to let Spade off the hook.

"He proved to be for sale with the whole property-for-silence thing before, and*"

"You couldn't afford Ian's loyalty," Spade cut her off. "And if I hadn't been his close friend for centuries, neither could I. We've been over this before, Denise. I'm not just your best option; I'm your only option."

Frustration boiled in her. "I already promised I wouldn't go to Bones. You didn't want to help me to begin with, so good news, I've come to my senses and you're free." Spade moved closer until he towered over her, green blazing from his eyes.

"You haven't come to your senses*you've lost them entirely, which is why I'm going to ignore everything you just said."

"Don't patronize me," she snapped.

His brow arched. "I'm being practical. You lost a good deal of blood and then Raum had at you again. It stands to reason those two events would leave your wits less than*

optimal."

Denise's anger gave way to rage, fueled by all the other emotions she wouldn't let herself express.

"f.u.c.k you," she spat. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you I'm leaving, and you're not following me. Period."

Spade's eyes glinted dangerously. "Try it. See how far you get." She balled her fists*only to feel pain jabbing her in the palms. Startled, Denise glanced at her hands. And screamed.

Yellowed, daggerlike nails protruded from impossibly long fingers, their sharp, hideous points leaving b.l.o.o.d.y half moons on her palms. They weren't her hands. They were the hands of a monster.

Chapter Twelve.

For a second, Spade just stared at Denise's hands. He'd never seen such a thing before, not in all his centuries. Then the panicked, horrified expression on her face snapped him into action.

He yanked his coat off, wrapping her hands in them, catching the spare drops of blood that dripped out after those gruesome nails punctured her skin. He couldn't risk anyone coming across her blood and finding out it was a drug. Then he swept Denise up in his arms. She was still staring at her hands even though they were now bundled in his coat.

Her whole body trembled and harsh gasps came out of her. She was in shock, he realized.

Little wonder; the sight of her hands had shocked him, and they weren't sprouting from the ends of his arms.

Spade carried her inside, whispering soothing nonsense more to distract her than in any belief that what he said would make her feel better. Second floor, third door on the left, Ian had said. Spade took the stairs three at a time and went into the third room he came to, kicking it closed. Then he sat on the bed, holding Denise, still whispering a string of comforting promises he had no idea if he'd be able to keep.

He was glad when she burst into tears, because it meant the shock had worn off. He'd been worried this last thing might break Denise. There was only so much one person could take, after all, and it had just been last week he thought she'd snapped from stress, before he knew about her demon brands and the threat to her family. Christ, if he were Denise, he'd weep, too. And possibly stake himself.

Spade held her tighter, leaning back on the bed, pulling the blanket around them since she was still shivering. He shifted to curl his body closer around hers. Her head was tucked against his chest, hiding her face, and her shoulders shook with sobs she was now trying to choke back.

He wished he could do something more for her than the pitiful comfort he was providing.

Had he helped her at all since she came to him? It didn't feel like it, and her hands certainly seemed to be d.a.m.ning evidence of his failure. What part of Denise would pay next if he continued to fail, warped into monstrosity by the demon's essence continuing to grow inside her?

I won't let that happen, Spade promised himself, his arms tightening around her. Her wretched relative Nathanial had found a way to defeat Raum for several generations.

Spade was a centuries-old Master vampire; he'd be d.a.m.ned if he'd fall short where a human had succeeded.

"It will be all right," he told Denise, and meant it this time.

She made what sounded like a gasping snort. "You've got a delusional sense of optimism, you know that?"

Brave, lovely, stubborn Denise, making a joke when she should be senseless with horror over her circ.u.mstances. Spade laughed even as something clicked in his heart that he knew would be permanent. This wasn't just l.u.s.t he felt. It went so much deeper than that.

"It's my secret shame," he told her, brushing his lips across her hair and not caring that it shouldn't feel as right as it did.

She sighed, a choppy, hoa.r.s.e sound. Her previous shaking had faded to a recurring shiver and her sobs had been replaced with a slight hiccup. Spade marveled that it was less than ten minutes since she'd first seen her hands. b.l.o.o.d.y strong woman.

"That's one coat, two shirts, a house, and a boat I've cost you," she muttered. "G.o.d, Spade, save yourself. Walk away."

He leaned back against the high headboard, still keeping his arms around her. "No."

"This isn't your*"

"Could you argue with me later, darling? I'm rather knackered now." So saying, he closed his eyes, silently willing her not to keep battling him*and not to get up, either. He wanted to keep holding her like this. It was the source of the most contentment he'd felt in over a century, though he'd also told the truth about being tired.

The sun was high and he hadn't slept aside from a couple of hours knocked unconscious from blood loss and drugs. Denise also had to be exhausted. She hadn't slept at all after he'd drained her blood and then Raum performed his evil workings on her.

She didn't say anything. Spade waited, inwardly tense even though his limbs were loose.

She still had her face ducked against his chest, her mahogany-colored hair spilling across him, her hands still wrapped in his coat under the blanket. The minutes began to tick by, but she remained quiet, and she didn't try to leave. Gradually, her breathing lost the congested irregularity from her previous tears to become slow and even.

He didn't fully relax until he knew she was asleep. Then he allowed himself to drift off, one arm still wrapped around her, his other hand cupping her head to his chest.

Denise stretched, yawning, her eyes still closed. The big, hard body next to hers shifted, pulling her closer while murmuring something unintelligible. She wrapped herself around him before her slowly returning consciousness took note of the situation.

You're in bed with Spade.

Denise's eyes flew open. Spade's face was only inches away, his arms encircling her, his legs tangled in hers. That was the good news. The bad news was that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were pressed against his chest and his thigh rested between her legs, snug against her crotch.

She couldn't be closer to him unless they were welded together, and the tangle of blankets around them said they'd been like this for a while.

Spade was still asleep. Even though her heart began to thump at their intimate proximity, she couldn't help but take a moment to stare. His hair was so black against his pale skin, several long locks falling over his cheek. His brows were equally dark and thick, curving over closed eyes that were framed by sooty, long lashes. His nose was a straight bridge between two high cheekbones, his mouth full enough to be s.e.xy, and strong enough to be nothing but masculine.

Denise remembered what those firm, supple lips felt like pressed to her forehead. Then how his mouth had felt when he'd trailed it over her neck so sensually and thoroughly before he'd bitten her, and a long-denied ache began to throb within her. She was seized with an overwhelming desire to kiss him, to know what those lips would feel like against her mouth.

Spade's eyes opened, startling her, because not a muscle on him had moved before in warning. Denise jerked back guiltily, afraid he'd know either from her scent or from her expression what she'd been thinking, but his arms hardened, preventing her escape. She was caught between hoping he'd let her go and hoping he wouldn't as she stared at him, trapped inside the circle of his arms. Spade's eyes began to fill up green. His lips parted, showing the tips of fangs* and it only made the throbbing heat inside her grow.

Did he want her, too? Or were those signs of hunger of a different nature? After all, how could he want a demonically deformed human*

Denise gasped as her gaze settled on her hands, freed from Spade's coat sometime while she'd slept. Gone were the hideously long fingers and clawlike nails. They were hers again. Normal.

"Spade, look!" she exclaimed, waving her hands between them.

His eyes turned back to their natural tiger-colored shade and he let her go, sitting up to examine her hands.

"It's as if nothing ever happened to them," he said musingly, turning them over in his grip.

Relief flooded through her so completely, she almost felt dizzy. A wide smile broke across her face. She wasn't a monster. Not yet. There was still time to save her family and herself.