First Drop of Crimson (11 page)

“It’s the best way to find out if Raum is lying about the brands,” Spade replied, unclipping her seat belt even though she smacked at his hands. “I’ve already tranced the pilots into believing we were on the plane the whole time and then disembarked with them in Vegas. And you don’t have to fret about pulling a cord with me.”

Denise didn’t look comforted in the least. “You’re out of your mind! Splattering on the ground won’t kill
you
, sure, but I’ll be nothing more than a stain wherever I land!”

“I won’t let you splatter,” he said, picking her up when she clung to the seat in refusal. “We have to do it now; we’re flying over the right area.”

“This is too much,” she argued as he dragged her over to the door, sliding it open and bracing them both in the sudden vacuum of wind. “Don’t do this, Spade, don’t do this—”

“Hang on to me and close your eyes,” he replied, settling his arms around her.

Denise cursed him, but she grabbed him with the hold of the damned. The co-pilot stood, ready to close the door behind them and then forget about their jump, just as Spade had instilled in him earlier.

Spade looked at the hazy ground below them, seeking the natural landmark that would confirm their location. Denise’s heart hammered against his chest, her scent of fear enveloping him and her breathing so accelerated, he wished she hadn’t made him swear a blood oath against trancing her.

Once he found what he was looking for, Spade pulled Denise tighter to him and jumped out of the plane.

The air rushed past Denise too fast for her to suck enough of it in to scream. It felt like all her organs rose within her, making her earlier threat about puking a real possibility. The whooshing speed and endless emptiness beneath her was terrifying. If she could have crawled inside Spade’s skin to cling tighter to him, she would have. Only the feel of Spade’s arms around her, hard and steady, kept her from passing out.

Then some of that nauseating lift in her guts began to ease and the roar of wind became less deafening. Now she could breathe enough to scream, so she did, in longer and longer peals.

Over that, she heard Spade speaking. “We’re fine, no need to scream. You could even open your eyes now, if you like.”

She did, looking down—and then squeezed them shut with another shriek. Spade had them zipping through the air parallel to the ground, still so high that cars looked small in contrast. Was he
crazy
, telling her to look at that?

“How much longer?” she managed to grit out.

“Just a few more seconds.”

Even freaked as she was, it didn’t escape Denise’s notice that Spade sounded amused.
Sure, laugh at the human who can’t fly, Mr. Master Vampire.
Just wait until they got on the ground.

After what seemed like hours, Denise felt a small jerk, and then Spade said, “See? We’re here and you’re perfectly safe.”

She tilted her head down and opened her eyes a slit. Their shoes, surrounded by grass, met her gaze. Beautiful, solid, wonderfully
flat
grass. Spade let her slide from his arms, but it took a few moments before the shaking left her limbs enough for her to stand on her own.

As soon as she did, she shoved him away hard enough to make him take a step backward. “How dare you laugh at me on the way down!”

Spade held out a conciliatory hand, but that amused expression didn’t quite leave his face.

“Now, Denise—”

“Don’t you ‘Denise’ me,” she snapped. “I don’t care how old, powerful, or strong you are. If you ever do something like that again, I’ll stab you in the heart. Son of a bitch, I can’t believe you threw me out of a
plane
!”

Spade still looked like he was fighting back his laughter. “I didn’t throw you out. I jumped with you. Very different.”

She wanted to smack him, but the small part of her that wasn’t still crouched in an inner ball over their recent free fall recognized the logic behind his actions. No way could Raum track her in a normal way, with Spade winging them several thousand feet off the ground after leaping from a plane. Denise had known vampires could fly, but she hadn’t realized the extent of that ability. She’d just thought they could do short little spurts off the ground. Not double as a helicopter with fangs.

“Now where?” she said, trying to calm her still-slamming heartbeat.

“To your parents’ house, of course. I’ve had a car left for us over by the monument. Then we’ll be off to my home.”

“Your home in St. Louis?”

Spade smiled. “No, Denise. My home in England.”

Almost twenty-four hours later, Spade saw the familiar high hedges that encircled the perimeter of his property in Durham. He nudged Denise beside him. Although she’d stayed awake for the entire flight from Virginia to England—flying a commercial jet, much to her preference—she’d finally fallen asleep on the car ride from the airport. Alten drove, so Spade would have settled her more comfortably in his lap, but she’d insisted she wasn’t tired right up until she nodded off.

“We’re here,” he told Denise.

She blinked…and then her eyes widened as they pulled into the driveway.

“
This
is your house?” she asked.

Spade heard the shock in her voice and suppressed his grin. His estate properties used to be much larger, but as he traveled so much, he’d sold off several acres in the past century and just kept his manor home for sentimental reasons. The main house was considered average-sized in his youth, but it would look sprawling by modern standards. The first segment was built in the early sixteen hundreds, and then different generations of DeMortimers added to it for the next two hundred years. It changed hands in the early eighteen hundreds when Spade was a new vampire in Australia, but once he reclaimed it in the mid eighteen fifties, he’d added two new wings. Then he’d renovated it every few decades or so. The result was a mixture of gothic architecture and modern convenience.

Denise swung her gaze back to Spade. “You must be
filthy
rich.”

He shrugged. “I inherited it, at first. Lost everything when I was sent to New South Wales, of course, but over time, I managed to get it back.”

She still seemed unable to reconcile him with the manor they were pulling up to.

“I thought barons were a smaller class of aristocracy. Guess I remembered my history wrong.”

“Barony was indeed the lowest level in the rank of nobility back in my time, but baron was also a courtesy title given to the oldest son. My father was the Earl of Ashcroft, the title I inherited after his death. But by then I was a vampire, so I never felt right about using earl as my title. That was intended for a living son, something I no longer was.”

Spade couldn’t stop the memories from thickening his voice. The last time he’d seen his father was in the jailer’s cell, shortly before being sent off to the colonies. His father hadn’t said anything to him. He’d stood there, his once proud frame hunched, and cried. Not in shame at the fate of his only son being transported due to debts that couldn’t be repaid, but in guilt.

Denise was silent for another minute. Then she said, “I don’t want to know what that house looked like that you gave to Ian because of me. No wonder you keep telling me you won’t let me pay you back. I probably couldn’t, even if I gave you every cent I had.”

Spade jerked his memories back from the past. “Will you stop fretting about that? Ian will likely offer it to me in a wager over something in the next few years, then I’ll win it back. Or he’ll want a favor and he’ll swap it in return for my assistance. Its loss isn’t permanent.”

She gave him a watery smile. “You’d tell me that even if it wasn’t true, wouldn’t you?”

Yes, he would, not that he’d admit that. “Nonsense. That’s just how vampires are. If you want something, it has a price, but then it comes back ’round again.”

Alten stopped the car at the front of the house, leaping out to get their bags from the boot. Denise looked away.

“You’ve never asked me to pay a price,” she almost whispered.

Spade felt something tighten in him as he stared at her profile.
Oh, I want many things from you, Denise. Too many to tell you about right now.

“You’re not a vampire,” was all he said.

Alten opened his door. “If you will?”

Spade got out and extended his hand to Denise. She took it, then let go self-consciously once she was out of the car.

He walked her to the front door, which was opened by his smiling housekeeper, Emma. Then he let Denise know the last bit of the plan.

“I’m leaving now. Alten will stay with you for the next few days.”

Denise’s mouth dropped. “You’re leaving?” she repeated. “Where? Why?”

Spade leaned in, lowering his voice. “Don’t leave the house under any circumstances, and no matter what, do not invite
anyone
in.”

She still had that look of surprise on her face, but underneath that was something else. Hurt.

“Are you coming back?”

Frustration competed with another, deeper emotion in him. Did she really think he’d flown her all the way here just to abandon her? Didn’t she know him enough by now to realize he wouldn’t do that?

“Yes, I’m coming back,” he said, his voice rough.

Then he did what he’d wanted to do for longer than he’d admit. He pulled her close, tilting her head back and covering her mouth with his. Denise’s surprised intake of breath parted her lips, and he slid his tongue along them. They tasted even better than her skin had, and when he delved deeper, stroking her tongue with his and learning the curves of her mouth, her taste there was like red wine—dark, heady, and sweet. Absent the drugging effects of her blood, but somehow just as potent to him.

Spade let her go and spun around. If he didn’t stop now, he’d be carrying her straight to his bed, and that wouldn’t do for the rest of his plans.

He got into the car and drove away, leaving Denise staring after him.

Denise gave Alten a pointed look as she shut her bathroom door. If she hadn’t insisted that there were some places the vampire couldn’t follow her, he’d have taken up a perch right on the countertop while she peed.

According to Alten, Spade had given instructions for her not to be left alone while he was gone. At all. Thus she had a constant shadow in either Alten or Emma, except in the bathroom—and Denise was beginning to fake the need for trips there just to grab a few minutes of privacy.

Her feelings swung in a pendulum. One part of her was irritated that Spade had arranged for round-the-clock protection. If he was that worried about something happening to her, then where was he? The other part was touched that he took her safety so seriously—though was that because of his friendship with Bones and Cat, or another reason?

Wondering about his motivations made for an emotional Mad Hatter ride, and her moods were already out of whack from her period arriving two days ago. Why had Spade kissed her before he left? To keep up appearances to Emma and Alten that she was his girlfriend? It was traditional for couples to kiss each other goodbye, after all, and they were posing as a couple. Nothing about that kiss should have struck her as unusual, except she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Had Spade been only faking? That kiss didn’t
feel
fake. It was skillful, demanding, intense, and…promising. Like Spade was giving her a glimpse of what it would be like in bed with him. Or was it just the practiced kiss of someone with hundreds of years’ experience and it meant no more to Spade than the other acting he’d done in front of his people?

And the most frightening question: Which did she want it to be?

Denise ran the water so Alten wouldn’t guess that she’d just snuck in there to get away from him. Wondering whether she wanted Spade to be acting or not played hell on her emotions. She’d tried to think of Spade in a detached way the past several days, but it hadn’t worked.

If she were honest, she’d admit she felt a powerful draw even the first time she’d seen him at Cat’s party. Denise had been chatting with Cat when she suddenly felt compelled to glance up. A stranger lounged in the doorway, his black hair dusted with snowflakes and his intense gaze lasered on her. As she stared at him, the weirdest shiver rippled through Denise, like something important was about to happen. But then Randy called her name and Denise snapped back to reality, shaking off her bewildering reaction to the dark stranger.

Now, over a year later, that strange pull hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was stronger. Despite how she didn’t want to be involved with the vampire world, a big part of her wanted to be involved with one vampire in particular.

As quickly as that thought surfaced, however, guilt followed. Already Randy was no longer the last person to kiss her. Yes, Denise knew that eventually Randy wouldn’t be the last person to make love to her, either. But wasn’t it too soon to be thinking about someone else, and especially a
vampire
? It was a vampire war that had gotten Randy killed, so in a way, she’d be sleeping with the enemy.

But it was really
you
who got him killed
, her guilt mocked her.
You didn’t just drag him to a house filled with vampires; you also let Randy leave the basement during the battle while you stayed safe below.

Denise hurled the soap across the room, glad that it didn’t hit anything except the tub. If she found Nathanial and got the brands off, she could keep more people she loved from dying because of her. She could return to hiding from the vampire world and all the emotions Spade stirred up in her, but she couldn’t hide from the real guilty party in Randy’s death: herself.

In the next moment, Alten burst through the door, his fangs out, his eyes streetlight green, and a large knife in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” he growled, stalking around the bathroom. “I heard a commotion.”

Her heart, which had instantly started to hammer, now began to slow. “Nothing’s wrong. I threw some soap, that’s all. Look at what you did to the
door
.”

Shards of wood now littered the floor where Alten had busted the lock. His gaze fell on the soap, dented and resting near the Jacuzzi-sized tub.

“Oh,” he said. “Sorry. It sounded like you were in danger.”

Denise’s face burned. At least she’d been standing fully clothed instead of squatting on the toilet with her pants down.

“Can you, uh, please leave now?”

Alten placed the door back over the frame, leaving himself on the outside.

“I’ll fix it once you’re through,” he said, as calmly as though something very strange hadn’t just happened.

Denise didn’t say anything. She glared at her wrists, always covered with long-sleeved shirts. She couldn’t afford to keep waiting for Spade, and neither could her family. Her parent’s cruise lasted three weeks, and five days of that had already been spent with her doing
nothing
.

If Spade didn’t come back in the next day or so, she’d have to start looking for Nathanial without him.

Denise had just started on her after-lunch, predinner meal when Alten cocked his head to the side.

“Someone’s here,” he said. “I hear a car.”

Her fork clattered to her plate. She jumped up, ignoring Alten’s admonishment to let Emma see who it was first, and almost ran to the front of the house. It took a minute, due to its massive size and the fact that the kitchen was on the second floor near the back. Still, Denise couldn’t rationalize having Emma set the dining room table when she was the only one eating solid food.