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.