Chapter Twenty
Spade stood over Denise. Her beautiful face was so peaceful in sleep, absent the worry, strain, and guilt that normally shadowed it. He loathed waking her, knowing she'd been running on sheer willpower for the past several days. She hadn't even stirred when he'd carried her from the car up to this room, placing her in bed. But he couldn't wait any longer.
"Denise." He couldn't resist touching her face and then drifting his hand down her neck. Her skin was like molten satin, the feel of it as addicting as her blood. "Denise, wake up."
Her eyes opened, an entrancing mixture of brown and green fixing on him. She blinked and then smiled sleepily.
"Hey. Are we here?"
"For four hours now," he replied, his mouth twitching as she glanced around, surprise stamped on her features when she realized she was in a bedroom instead of the car she'd fallen asleep in.
"Wow. I must have really passed out." Denise shook her head, sitting up and running a hand through her thick dark hair to push it out of her face. Her stomach woke up next, judging from the howl it let out that had her flushing faintly.
Spade moved aside, revealing the table beside him that had several covered dishes on it.
"Hamburger with lettuce, tomato, pickle, and ketchup, extra fries, plus chicken soup, crackers, and chocolate cake."
Her eyes widened and then she laughed. "You remembered exactly what I like. God, Spade, I think I love you."
It was said in jest, but the tightness in his chest at hearing those words struck him like a blow. He already knew he cared for Denise far more than he'd cared for anyone in a very long time, but at that moment, he realized how serious it had become. I'm in love with you. I never thought that would happen to me again - and especially with a human.
She had to let him change her into a vampire. He couldn't bear losing her to her fragile human mortality, where death could pounce even under the most benign of circumstances. As a human, she could choke on a bite of that hamburger and be lost to him forever, for pity's sake. There was no way he could tolerate her remaining human, and if she cared for him as he believed she did, she'd want to change over so they could be together for centuries at least. Not mere decades.
Denise cleared her throat, looking away, her honeyed jasmine scent turning tarter with discomfort over her previous quip. Far more discomfort than she should feel, unless she also knew there was more between them than friendly affection, necessity, or lust.
"I need to talk to you," she said, pretending to study the painting on the opposite wall. "It's important, and I don't want anyone to overhear it."
Anticipation surged in him. Was she about to admit that she cared for him? Had she realized their worlds were equally dangerous and there was no more cruelty in his versus hers?
Bloody hell, if she did, he'd cancel the party and spend the rest of the evening in bed with her, sod how Web or any of the other undead guests might be offended. He could always smooth things over with them later, but he'd be damned if he would turn Denise away were she to declare her feelings for him.
He crossed the room, shutting the door and then turning on the telly loud enough to make her feel comfortable that they wouldn't be overheard. Then he sat on edge of the bed, fighting not to do anything to startle her. Like tearing her clothes off so he could feel her scorching, silky skin all over him.
"What is it?" he asked, not a hint of his internal struggle in his voice.
She took a deep breath. "I'm calling it off, everything. Whatever you were intending tonight with Web, looking for Nathanial, all of it."
Frustration covered his desire in a blink. "Not this again. I've told you a dozen times; I'm not letting you go after Nathanial on your own."
"I'm not intending to go after him at all," she said, defiance and resignation competing in her voice. "You're right, I couldn't begin to find him without a vampire's help, and no vampire but Bones would be crazy enough to help me, aside from you. We both know I can't get Bones involved because of Cat, but if you continue to look for Nathanial, you're going to get killed, and I can't...I can't live with that."
He stared at her in amazement. "What about your family?"
She bit her lip. "They'll have to hide with me. There's not that many of them left; my parents, my cousin Felicity, her fiance, and a few second cousins. I hate doing that to them, but Bones has people all over the world. He could set it up where we'd stay with one of them, like other humans do, only without the blood exchange. He could even trance them so they wouldn't know their lives were in danger, or be miserable, feeling like they were imprisoned on the far edge of the world..."
Her voice cracked at that last part, but after another deep breath, it was steady again.
"No one has to get killed this way. You don't have to risk your life. It's the only logical solution."
Spade took her hands, always covered with long gloves to hide the tattoos and the brands underneath them.
"Then you'll never get these off, Denise. You won't ever be human again, and you have no idea how long you'll live this way, because the brands have obviously given Nathanial an abnormally long lifespan."
She met his gaze. "I can stand that, but I can't stand for you to keep risking your life for me. If I let you get killed, I'd feel like more of a monster than these brands would ever make me."
Triumph flared in him. If she'd sacrifice her humanity in order to keep him safe, she had to care for him as deeply as he cared for her. And in that case, she had to be willing to become a vampire once he returned Nathanial to the demon and she got those brands off. After all, that was an infinitely better prospect than being a demon-branded shape-shifter.
He reached out to caress her face, savoring how her scent changed from determined anxiety to something far richer. Then, slowly, his hand curled around the back of her neck. Her heartbeat sped up as he leaned in, closing the distance between them, his mouth parting in anticipation of the sweetness of her lips.
A bang on the door had Denise jumping back even as Spade turned around with a curse.
"Go. Away." A threatening growl any intelligent person would heed.
"Sire, my apologies, but you have an urgent call," Alten said.
"Someone better be dying," Spade muttered, vaulting up to open the door.
Alten held out his mobile phone mutely. Spade took it, barking, "What?" into the receiver.
"Why haven't you been returning my calls?" Crispin asked coolly.
Denise was still reeling from that almost-kiss when Spade turned to her, covering his cell with his hand.
"I need to take this," he said, and walked out.
She stared at the empty doorway for a second, stupefied. Had she just imagined the intensity of that moment? Had the emotions on Spade's face as he bent toward her really been there, or had her feelings only cast an illusion of what she wanted to see? That must have been it. Spade sure hadn't looked anything but aloof when he walked out like nothing had - almost - happened between them.
Disgusted, Denise went over to the tray and began eating. Her stomach didn't care that she'd just been left hanging; it still growled and gurgled demandingly. She thought about spending the rest of what might be a very long life like this - hiding from Raum, her body no longer recognizable to her in many ways, outcast from her world and not accepted into any other.
Was this how Cat felt, being a half vampire, not really fitting into the human world or the vampire one? If it was, it sucked.
Of course, Cat actually had useful powers. All Denise had from her new abnormalities was an insatiable appetite and the occasional hand deformity. Villains of the world, beware! I can eat you under the table AND gross you out with my monster paws!
She shoved her plate away after eating the fries and the chocolate cake. Having a pity party was useless. She had to start moving on with her life, such as it was. First she'd get cleaned up. A shower would at least take care of her hygiene needs. Then she'd thank Spade for everything he'd done and call Cat, explaining to her friend that she needed her family in the vampire version of a witness protection program. Even though she'd been a horrible friend to her recently, Cat would help her. She and Bones were good people like that.
And Spade could get on with his life, without her risking it or turning it upside down anymore. It was the right thing to do all around.
Spade left Denise's room and kept walking all the way down the stairs and out the front door before he replied.
"Hallo, mate. Sorry for the lack of response. Been a bit busy, I'm afraid."
"Indeed." The single word had the same emphasis as if it had been bollocks.
Spade waited, not about to start saying anything that would sound defensive or raise Crispin's suspicions. Either Crispin knew something or he didn't. If he didn't, Spade wouldn't make it easy on him to find anything out, but neither would he lie to his best friend, if he could avoid it.
"Don't you have something you want to tell me, Charles?" Crispin asked after the silence lengthened.
Spade almost smiled. "Certainly don't." That was the unvarnished truth.
"Right." Spade could almost picture Crispin's face hardening. "Why don't I help you out? You can start by telling me what you're up to with Denise MacGregor."
Ian must have said something. No one else had recognized Denise except for him, untrustworthy sod.
"It's nothing you need concern yourself with," Spade replied in the same cool tone Crispin had used.
A snort. "We must have a bad connection, because you didn't just tell me not to concern myself with my wife's best friend, did you?"
Spade closed his eyes at the open challenge Crispin threw down. "I know you feel protective toward Denise because of her friendship with Cat, but she's not one of your people," Spade replied carefully, each word measured. "You'd need to have bitten or bedded Denise for that, and you've done neither. So with all the affection I have for you, Crispin, I say again, this doesn't concern you."
Now the snort on the other line held a tone of amazement. "Bloody hell, Charles, what's gotten into you? I didn't believe Ian when he said you were acting barmy, but now you've more than proved him correct."
Better Crispin believe he'd lost his mind with lust than discover what was really going on. He was close to finding Nathanial. He could feel it.
"You're not going to be reasonable, are you?" Crispin said, anger sharpening his tone when Spade didn't answer.
"If by reasonable you mean asking your permission before I consort with a willing woman, then you're right. I'm not going to be reasonable," Spade replied.
"Put Denise on the phone. Let me hear from her that she's choosing to be with you for no other reason than enjoyment of your company," Crispin said curtly.
Considering his last conversation with Denise, Spade wasn't about to put her on the phone until he talked some sense into her.
"She's indisposed at the moment. I'll have her ring you later."
Crispin's tone went from cool to icy. "You realize you're leaving me no choice but to assume you're hiding something."
"It's unfortunate you feel that way. I'd talk more about it, but I have to go now. Oh, one more thing." Spade made no attempt to lessen the anger in his voice as he went on. "Tell Ian I'm keeping the house."
He clicked his mobile shut, cutting off whatever Crispin's reply might have been. So much for canceling the party to have a romantic evening with Denise. He had even less time to find Nathanial now that Crispin knew something was amiss. Still, best mate or no, he wouldn't let Crispin interfere out of a mistaken sense of responsibility.
Denise was his, as Crispin would soon find out.