First Drop of Crimson

He made it to the Plaza as quickly as he could without revealing his supernatural speed. Once inside, though, he ignored the elevators in favor of the stairwell. One clear shot upward had him flying past the different floors in a blur, arriving at nineteen in seconds.

The stench of sulfur drifted to him as soon as he opened the stairwell door. A demon had been on this floor.

Spade flew the rest of the way, not caring now who might see him. He crashed through his hotel room and rolled when he hit the carpet, the same silver knife that had been in his throat now gripped in his hand.

"Denise?" he called out. "Denise!"

She appeared in the bedroom doorway, blood still staining her neck, her face even paler than his normally was.

"You're back," she said, swaying.

Spade caught her before she hit the floor.

Chapter Eleven

Denise's eyes fluttered open. Spade leaned over her, a deep frown creasing his face. Blood covered the front of him and even clumped in his hair. Considering what had happened the last time she'd been this close to him, she should have been concerned about his proximity to her throat. But right now, she couldn't summon the strength to worry about being bitten.

"You look like hell," she murmured.

Spade didn't smile. "What did he do to you?"

She didn't want to talk about it. She'd thought it was agonizing the first time Raum forced his essence into her, but this last occasion made her realize what the word pain really meant. The hotel had sent security to her room. She'd had to lie and say she twisted her ankle - as if that would explain several minutes of screaming. What they'd heard, anyway. Raum had covered her mouth after he got bored listening to it.

"What did he do?" Spade repeated, more emphatically this time.

Denise closed her eyes. "He upped the dosage on the marks," she said, trying to keep the horror of remembrance out of her voice. "He wasn't happy with my progress."

Spade muttered something low and fierce, too rapidly for her to catch. "Shouldn't have stayed at a hotel," he finished with. "Should have picked a private home where demons couldn't enter. I didn't think he'd followed us here, but he's obviously smarter than I realized. We're leaving, Denise, just as soon as we get cleaned up."

"Doesn't matter where we go." It was so exhausting to talk. She'd stayed awake only out of concern over where Spade was. When he didn't come back at dawn, she'd been worried that something happened to him. Now her energy was totally depleted. What Raum did felt like it almost killed her.

"What do you mean?" A light shake made her open her eyes. "Come on, you can't sleep yet."

It took all her effort to wave her wrist at Spade. "He can track me through the brands. So it doesn't matter where we go. He'll find me."

Spade didn't say anything. Denise closed her eyes again. It felt like she'd only shut them for a second, but then the splash of warm water jolted them open.

She was in the shower. Clasped in Spade's arms, it looked like. And he'd taken her boots off and was now peeling off her skirt.

"What?" she managed.

"I have to get your blood off both of us," he said grimly. "It's not safe otherwise."

If she didn't feel like she'd been run over by a truck, she would have protested. But right now, as long as she didn't have to move, she didn't care what Spade did.

His hand cupped around her forehead, then more water ran down her neck. Denise closed her eyes.

"Sorry."

It came out in a whisper. Spade turned them, and the stream from the shower ran over her stomach next. He must have gotten her sweater off, too, from the feel of it. Was her bra still on? An exhausted glance down revealed it was. So was her underwear.

"What are you sorry for?"

Her face was in the crook of his throat, so his voice vibrated against her. Maybe it was because she was still only half conscious, because she answered with the truth.

"How I acted when you bit me. Didn't mean to. Didn't know it would make it hard for you to stop - "

"Christ, is that what you think happened?" Denise felt his hand brush her face. "It wasn't you; it was your blood. The essence from Raum's brands turned it into a sort of drug for vampires, it seems. I felt the effects as soon as I swallowed; but what's in your blood is so powerful, I couldn't stop. I've heard of altered blood being sold on the black market to young, stupid vampires seeking a thrill, but I didn't realize..."

Spade's voice trailed off. Then he shook her until her eyes opened. The intensity on his face was enough to wake her all the way up.

"What?"

"That's it, Denise. Your blood changed after Raum branded you. That's how we'll track Nathanial. Through his blood."

Spade strode into Ian's parlor without waiting for the butler to announce him.

"Who would I go to if I were looking for some Red Dragon?"

Ian clicked off his telly with a snort. "I say, Charles, you've truly turned over a new leaf since you started shagging this one, haven't you?"

"Don't speak of her that way," Spade growled at once.

Denise looked pleased that he'd corrected Ian's rudeness, but Ian's slow smile confirmed he knew the real reason behind Spade's response. He cursed himself for his possessive reaction. It was one thing to act as though Denise were his while they were in public. Quite another to feel that way, however. Spade felt like he was in quicksand when it came to his emotions for Denise. The more he struggled, the deeper he sank.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Ian drawled.

Spade gave Ian a single glare.

"Looking for some Red Dragon, you say?" Ian replied, his arched brow saying he'd drop the matter...for now.

"I don't remember talking about a dragon," Denise whispered.

Spade glanced down at her. "Chasing the Dragon is an expression for seeking a narcotic high. Vampires call their drug Red Dragon, because it's only through tainted blood that we can be affected by a chemical stimulant."

Though now he knew the stimulant in Red Dragon wasn't chemical at all. The vampires who sought it out either didn't care what ingredient in it gave them the high, or knew not to ponder it publicly. Consuming or selling Red Dragon was against vampire law. After all, hallucinating, out-of-control vampires threatened the secrecy of the race, and nothing was of more concern to the undead world than keeping their existence a secret.

Denise had no idea how dangerous her blood was. If the Law Guardians found out she was a walking drug, they wouldn't give her the chance to find Nathanial and have the brands taken off. They'd kill her without a moment's hesitation. And if the suppliers of Red Dragon discovered Denise was another source for their illicit, highly expensive trade, they'd turn her existence into a living hell.

A muscle ticked in Spade's jaw. Damned if he'd allow either to happen.

"Can't say I have any," Ian went on, with a shake of his head. "Very hard to come by, of course. I tried it once. It was fun for 'round an hour, but then it gave me the most rotten dreams plus a headache the next day - a bloody headache! Why would you want to trifle with that poison, Charles?"

"I have my reasons," Spade replied.

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

Ian's clear turquoise gaze considered him. Spade kept his face impassive. 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 Belaggio."

"The Belaggio 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 ha**ng s*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 amusement 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 embarrassment, confusion, and frustration, she was also starving. Damn 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**hole. 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 passing 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 scrape 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.