First Drop of Crimson
Chapter Seven

Denise gasped when she saw the red-haired man who waited for them in the drawing room. "You!"
Sadly, it wasn't her relative Nathanial she'd recognized. Ian blinked, obviously surprised to see her, too. Then his turquoise gaze slid to Spade and he laughed.
"When you said you were coming to see me, I thought this was going to be another boring social call, but I was wrong, wasn't I? Look at you, sneaking behind Crispin's back with his wife's best friend. I'm impressed."
Spade crossed his arms. "Don't snicker so, Ian. We're here on business, though yes, I don't want Crispin informed of it."
The sly smile stayed on Ian's lips. "Silence like that will cost you, mate."
"I have no doubt," Spade replied in an ironic tone.
Denise still couldn't believe Spade involved Ian in this. Bones's sire didn't have a good reputation on the best of days, and at his worst, he'd nearly gotten several of Cat's soldiers killed.
"Don't trust him, he'll go right to Bones and Cat," she muttered.
Ian's gaze settled on her, unoffended by the accusation. "Not if Charles makes it worth my while, poppet."
"Who's Charles?" Denise repeated, looking around. Then she remembered. Right, that's what Bones called Spade, too.
"My human name," Spade said, even though Denise figured it out.
"Don't know why you still insist on being called by that other name," Ian said, shaking his head. "I'd just as soon forget we were ever prisoners, but you've chosen to remind yourself of it every day."
"Keeps me focused," Spade replied lightly.
"Prisoners?" Denise cast a look at Spade. He was a former convict? How could someone keep a vampire locked up, anyway?
"Didn't you know, poppet?" Ian purred. "It was how we met, on the voyage to the New South Wales penal colonies. Baron Charles DeMortimer here thought it was very beneath his station, being chained to common criminals like me, Crispin, and Timothy. Imagine his horror once we arrived and the overseer only addressed him by the tool he had to labor with instead of his title. Makes no sense that he insisted on being called that after he became a vampire, too."
A tick in Spade's jaw said he didn't appreciate the subject, but Denise was intrigued. She'd had no idea Spade had been both a prisoner and a noblemen. In a way, it explained some things. Spade reeked of danger, true, but he also never let her touch a door or car handle, streaking to open them for her. Then his insistence on sleeping in a chair despite it being his bed he was kicking himself out of, and she'd never heard him so much as raise his voice. Add that to the regal air he carried himself with, and she should have guessed that he'd come from far different circumstances than Bones.
"Aren't you interested in hearing what I'll offer in exchange for your discretion, Ian?" Spade asked, coolly changing the topic.
Ian grinned. "Of course."
"My property in the Keys you've long admired. I'll loan it to you for the next decade. That should be more than adequate to ensure your silence."
Denise let out a shocked noise that both men ignored. "Not good enough," Ian replied. "Crispin will be very angry at me if he discovers my part in whatever it is you're up to with her, so you'll have to give me the house to make it worth my while."
"You greedy schmuck!" Denise burst out.
Ian cast a leisurely glance in her direction. "And now my feelings are hurt. That'll cost you the boat, too."
Spade shot a look at her that had Denise clamping her mouth shut. Greedy SCHMUCK, she silently screamed at Ian.
"Only if I have your silence and cooperation by letting Denise pick through your property for a bloke that I'll leave with, no questions asked, if she finds who she's looking for."
Ian's brows went up. "Do I get to know what this person did?"
Spade's smile was more a baring of teeth. "No. You don't."
He'll never go for it, Denise thought, seeing the crafti ness flit across Ian's features. But then the other vampire smiled back.
"I do love that house, Charles. Done."
Denise let out her breath, relieved and guilt-ridden at the same time. Now she could add a house and a boat to what it cost Spade to help her, all because she manipulated him. She had to find a way to pay him back, even if it meant making installments for the next thirty years.
Ian stretched. "You're welcome to start with who I've got in the house and work your way from there. I don't need to tell you how far-flung some of my people are, but I'll put the word out that they're to give you their full cooperation."
"And you won't mention you recognized the human I'm traveling with," Spade added, his voice steely.
Ian's gaze slid over Denise in a way that made her feel like she'd somehow lost all her clothes. "No, but it'll be interesting to see how long you can keep this a secret. Need a place to stay while you're in town?"
"Thank you, I've made arrangements elsewhere," Spade replied, to Denise's relief. The sooner they were away from Ian, the better. He was handsome, but there was something openly cold and ruthless about him. Without even realizing it, she found herself inching closer to Spade. Let's look at his people and get the hell out of here.
As if Spade had heard her mental directive, he took her hand. "Ian, if you'll direct us?"
Fifteen minutes later, Denise was cursing to herself in frustration. Out of the dozen men, human and otherwise, who lived at Ian's house, none was Nathanial. How long before Raum became impatient and started threatening her family again? Or how long before the demon marks manifested more dramatically in her? Right now, the only changes she'd noticed were an increasingly short temper and constant hunger, but she knew that was just the beginning. How long did she have before the marks turned her into the same sort of monster Raum was?
"Tell whoever you've got in the area to meet you at the Crimson Fountain tonight," Spade said to Ian as they made their way out. "It'll give us a chance to look at more of them without arousing suspicion."
Ian cast another speculative look at Denise before nodding. "I had other plans, but this situation piques my interest. I'll see you there, mate."
Denise waited until they were miles away from Ian's before she spoke. "I'm so sorry about your house. Please, let me reimburse you. I have a 401(k) I can tap into - "
"No." The single word was crisp. Spade didn't even look away from the road when he said it.
"But this isn't what I intended!" she exclaimed, the tension from the past several days sharpening her voice.
Spade looked at her, briefly but thoroughly. "You had no idea what this would entail when you involved me, but I did, and I agreed nonetheless."
More guilt piled onto her. This was wrong. So wrong. "What if it takes months to find him?"
She couldn't bear the thought, but the initial, na?ve assumption she'd had that she could quickly find Nathanial if she just had an in with the vampire world had been shattered. Spade had thousands of people in his line. How many other Master vampires had thousands of people spread out all over the world?
"Then it takes months to find him," Spade replied, no emotion in his tone. "I'm in this to the end, as I promised."
And she might not have months before she became a monster. Her former feeling of helplessness turned to anger. When she did find Nathanial, she'd make him pay for what he'd put her, her family, and Spade through.
Then the hatred faded, leaving a hollow fear instead. It's happening even now. Every day, a little more of me gets replaced with something else. The realization terrified her.
"Maybe tonight will be our lucky night," she said, forcing an optimism she didn't feel into her voice.
"Perhaps," Spade agreed.
He didn't sound like he believed it, either.
Denise's knuckles were white as she clenched her fists. The scent of her anxiety filled the cab, covering the stale sweat, perfume, and lingering odor of vomit in the backseat. The cab made another lurching movement into traffic, narrowly missing the car that had been vying for the same lane. Denise paled until her skin almost matched Spade's in color.
"Could you be a bit gentler on the gas?" Spade said to the driver. Poor girl, this was her first experience with a New York cabbie. From Denise's expression, she'd like it to be her last.
"What you say?" the driver replied in thickly accented English. Little wonder the man had trouble hearing him, with how loud his radio was.
Spade placed the driver's accent. "Possa-o ir devagar guiar, por favor?" he said, speaking louder.
The driver gave him a wide smile that revealed a lack of recent dental attention. "Oh, fala portuguesa? Nenhum problema," he exclaimed, easing off the accelerator.
"What language is that?" Denise asked, distracted enough to unclench her fists.
"Portuguese."
She looked impressed. "I kept meaning to learn more languages, but all I know is some Spanish left over from high school. When did you learn Portuguese?"
"When I was in Portugal," he replied, amused to see the surprise on her face.
"Oh," she said softly. "I've never been overseas. I haven't even been out of America, except for..."
Her voice trailed off and shadows settled over her expression. For Canada, Spade mentally finished. Where your husband was murdered.
"Remember your part tonight," Spade said, more to take her attention off that than out of concern over her forgetting. "I may have to leave you for a short time, but if I do, stick by Ian."
"I don't trust him," she said at once.
Spade let out a snort. "Nor should you, but he won't attempt to mesmerize you or feed from you. Since we're going to a place filled with different types of vampires, that makes him safer than anyone except me."
He didn't think there was any real chance of danger to Denise, but he wanted her on her guard nevertheless. Neither one of them brought up the other possibility - that with these circumstances, she might have another panic attack. Their best hope of finding Nathanial was to expose Denise to the largest number of undead persons and their property at a time, but while that was efficient, it was also hazardous to her emotional state.
There was a way around that, however. Spade chose his words carefully. "I know this won't be easy on you, Denise, but I could help with that. I wouldn't even need to bite you to do it. A simple suggestion for you to be calmer when you're around vampires or ghouls would - "
"Absolutely not." She turned her attention away from the traffic to glare at him. "Don't you dare mess with my mind. I mean it, Spade."
Stubborn woman. He shrugged. "If that's your decision."
"It is," she said, still glaring. "Promise me you won't do it."
The harsh scent of fear, anger, and mistrust swirled around her. Very slowly, Spade pulled out one of the silver knives from his coat. She went a shade paler when she saw it, but he ignored that, using the knife to slice a line in his palm.
"You know what a blood oath means to my kind, right?" he asked, holding her gaze. "By my blood, Denise, I swear I will never manipulate your mind."
A sliver of crimson clung to the blade even as the wound closed. Spade kept his hand well below the window that separated the driver's line of vision from the backseat. Only Denise could see what he'd done, and her scent changed even as the color returned to her face.
"I believe you."
Spade put the knife away, wiping the scant amount of blood onto his pants. They were dark enough that no one would notice. Well, no human would; a vampire or ghoul would smell it, but they wouldn't care.
The cab jerked to a stop. Spade handed over a twenty, then was outside opening Denise's door before she'd finished lowering her hand to tug on the handle.
"You don't need to keep doing that, I can get it," she murmured, looking embarrassed. She tucked a strand of her hair back, the color in her cheeks darkening ever so slightly.
It was such a lovely, feminine response, without the wariness she normally had with him. Though he would have done the same with any woman - no amount of time could erase the strict etiquette he'd been raised with - Spade found himself enjoying her reaction.
"Just because a lady can, doesn't mean she should," he teased, amused to see her color deepen as she glanced away. Christ, she was lovely.
He slid his gaze over her, unable to help himself. Under her coat, Denise wore a cowl-necked sweater and a long black skirt, her boots peeking out from under its hem and gloves covering her hands. The only skin visible on her was her face and neck. Spade found himself staring at her pulse with a hunger that had nothing to do with blood. What would she taste like, if he placed his mouth there?
And what would she taste like everywhere else he put his mouth?
Denise shivered, snapping his attention back to the fact that they were standing outside on a sidewalk when they should be inside looking for Nathanial.
"This way," he said, extending his arm.
She placed her hand in it with another shiver, not meeting his gaze. A good thing, too, because his eyes had probably gone green with lust.
"What's it like in this place?" she asked, still looking away.
Spade forced his control back into place. "It's exactly what you'd think a vampire bar would be like, if you didn't believe in vampires."
That made her look at him. "Huh?"
He grunted. "You'll see."