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 ass**le. 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.
"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.
"Fuck 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 bloody 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.