First Drop of Crimson

"I'm being serious," Nathanial said with emphasis on each word. His hazel gaze was steady. "You've got a terrified woman stuck in an unfamiliar form who's been carted around in a small box for hours. She's hungry. Thirsty. Probably claustrophobic, too, which would explain why she's been hissing and scratching at the cage nonstop. Let her out. Let her eat something, drink something, settle down a little. And then you're going to pet her until she's really relaxed."

That murderous urge was almost overpowering, making a fine tremor run through Spade's body. His fangs pressed against his lips in silent demand to bury into Nathanial's throat and rip.

"All right," Spade said, once his fury died down enough for him to talk. "But if you're putting me on, you'll be the next one in that carrier. In pieces. Alten!"

A few moments later, the door opened. "Yes?"

"Ask the kitchen to send up some tuna fish or chicken, plus a bowl of cream. Right away."

Alten blinked but didn't question the directive. It wasn't five minutes before he was back, reeking tuna on a plate and a saucer filled to the brim with cream. This time, though, Cat and Crispin came with him. They filed in the room silently, shutting the door behind them.

Spade set the containers of tuna and cream on the floor and then opened the door of the carrier.

A blur of fur burst free with a yowl, running around the perimeter of the room in a mad dash before darting under the bed. Spade felt his heart sink at the distinctly feline response. Was there nothing of Denise left in the animal hiding beneath the bed?

"Just wait," Nathanial said.

After a tense couple of minutes, a mahogany-colored head slid out from under the bed. Hissing at the room in general, the cat came out all the way and went straight to the tuna dish, devouring the smelly banquet. Then the kitty lapped at the bowl of cream until its dark sides began to swell.

"Get her now," Nathanial instructed.

Spade snatched up the cat before it could dart back under the bed. Immediately tiny claws scored his hands, but he ignored that, looking at the bundle of fur with a mix of hope and despair. Could Denise really come back from this? She said she'd seen Raum transform into a dog and back without any ill effects, but he was a demon, and she was still - mostly - human.

At least, she used to be.

"Don't let her loose. Get her as comfortable as possible, and start petting her."

Crispin muttered something Spade didn't want to decipher. With a clenched jaw, he settled himself on the bed with the now-growling kitty, holding it in place with one hand and stroking its fur with the other.

Four sets of rapt eyes watched his every move. After a minute, Spade was tense enough to growl along with the cat.

"Give me the room," he said.

Crispin took Nathanial's arm. "Come with me, mate. I'll show you to your accommodations," he said before drawing him away.

Spade almost smiled at that, imagining where Crispin would put him. The rest of them filed out, Cat shutting the door with a pensive last look at them.

The kitty continued to growl in that low, extended manner, punctuated every so often by a hiss and a twist to get free. Spade loosened his grip to where the cat could wiggle, but not escape, still stroking those dark brown ears.

"Denise," he said low. "If you can hear me, I very much need to you come back. Don't resign me to the fate of being one of those crusty old vampires who only live with their pets."

I'm talking to a bloomin' kitty, it occurred to him. He might as well dig a hole and cover himself up with his grave dirt now.

But he didn't stop, because he needed to believe Denise understood what he was saying, even if that wasn't true.

"Come now, darling, I can think of far better ways to spend time in bed with you than this," he continued in a low voice. "You make a right fetching feline, but really, there are limits to the things I'm willing to try."

The cat stopped growling, though its tail kept up its restless twitching. Spade didn't know if that was a positive sign, but he kept talking.

"We have everything we need to move forward, darling, except you. Come back, Denise. We'll return Nathanial to Raum, get those brands off your arms, and continue on with our lives. Do you know the first thing I want to do, when you have your brands off?"

A softer noise began to emanate from the cat. After a second, Spade realized it was purring.

"I'll take you somewhere very posh," he went on. "I can picture the dress you'll wear: black silk, thin straps, deep neckline - and no gloves. You'll have a wonderful dinner, and then we'll dance until you're knackered...but not too knackered, because when we get home, I'm going to make love to you. I'll go slow, taking my time over every inch of your flesh, until your voice turns into that delicious, throaty sound that inflames me. And then, afterward, I'll hold you until you fall asleep..."

A strong current rippled over the kitty's body. Spade quit talking, watching in amazement as the bundle beneath his hands grew. Another rippling shudder, then another, and another. Skin seemed to erupt from the cat's form, stretching, growing, and widening in a cataclysm of limbs, flesh, and bone that happened almost faster than his eyes could track. In the space of a few incredible seconds, a woman's na**d body replaced the cat curled across his lap, her hair a dark veil across her face.

Spade didn't move, afraid his slightest gesture would cause her to magically disappear again.

"Denise."

A shaking hand brushed her hair back, and then Denise's lovely hazel gaze met his.

"Spade," she said, her voice scratchy and rough.

Then she jumped off the bed, staggered, and ran into the bathroom.

Chapter Twenty-nine

"Denise, honey, are you okay? Please let me in," Cat urged.

Denise stayed on the floor, pressed as far into the corner as she could manage, and only answered because she knew if she didn't, Cat would break in.

"I'm fine," she gritted out. "I just want to be alone for a while."

She'd repeated the same phrase to Spade twenty minutes ago, after she'd finished shaking and running her hands all over her body to verify that, yes, she was indeed completely back to herself. Words couldn't explain the horrible panic she'd felt while turned into something else, not able to communicate in any manner aside from growls and hisses.

Before, on the boat, she'd had a twinge of guilt about turning Nathanial over to Raum. Now, if the demon were in front of her, she'd thrust Nathanial into Raum's arms without the slightest hesitation. Not to save her family, or because Nathanial had made a bargain, or out of gratitude for what Spade had gone through to get him. No, she'd do it so she'd never have to worry about her body becoming a foreign prison again.

"Denise." Spade's voice, rich and deep. "Open the door."

No way. He'd seen her as an animal. Her new lover had carted her around in a pet carrier, for crying out loud! What the hell was she supposed to say to him after that?

Even now, the memory of being trapped in that tiny container made her break out into a sweat. She'd always hated small, tight spaces. Being shoved into one while knowing she wasn't even human at the time had almost snapped her sanity completely.

She just had to look at Cat and get a bright idea to change into her namesake. Why couldn't she have thought about something else small and harmless? Something human?

Denise's stomach clenched and she burped, the taste of tuna following. That's right, she'd eaten out of a bowl on the floor because just half an hour ago, she'd been an animal. Bile rose in her throat with merciless swiftness. She scrambled to the toilet, making it just in time and retching until her throat burned.

A hard, cracking noise jerked her head up. Spade came into the bathroom, the door handle hanging off its perch. Denise yanked a towel over herself, her shame deepening. First Spade saw her eating from a bowl as an animal, now he saw her crouched na**d over a toilet hurling her guts out.

"Please get out," she moaned.

He knelt next to her. "What's wrong? Are you ill?"

An almost hysterical laugh escaped her. "What's wrong? Are you serious?"

Cool hands slid across her arms. Denise flinched back, but the wall behind her prevented her from avoiding his touch.

"Don't," she said sharply.

One glance had shown that Spade was his usual handsome, impeccable self, wearing pressed pants and crisp shirt, his scent a heady, natural cologne. In contrast, here she was, wearing only a towel, sweat-covered, and stinking like tuna vomit.

Denise began to struggle when Spade pulled her into his arms, but it was just as futile as her attempts to get away when she was covered in fur. How could he bear to touch her like this, let alone be in the same room with her? If she could avoid herself, she would.

"You don't need to try to make this better, okay? Just please, Spade, leave me alone."

"This isn't about you," he responded, tightening his arms around her when she would have squirmed away. "I need this. Right now, I need it more than I've ever needed anything, including blood."

She didn't say anything, torn between wanting to believe that and thinking he was lying just to make her feel better. And she did feel better in his arms. Oh, so much better! Like there was hope and reason in her world, instead of just the quicksand deterioration of both her body and her soul.

"You scruffed me."

It came out without thought. Considering everything that had happened, that should have been the last thing on her mind.

Something brushed across her head that felt like his lips. "My apologies, darling."

"How can you call me that?" Denise asked in a whisper. "If there was ever a good cause for breaking up with someone, turning into a four-legged creature is it."

"I'm a vampire. My closest friends are vampires and ghouls, and there's a ghost floating right outside this room. I've dealt with demons, black magic, wraiths, and zombies in the past two years alone, so I'm afraid your shape-shifting isn't going to send me fleeing away in fear."

Denise was silent for a moment. Then, "When you put it like that...you sound like a sicko."

Laughter shook his chest. "I can accept that."

Some of the crushing weight of her self-disgust lifted, but shame still swirled inside her. "Yeah, well, I'm a coward."

Spade eased away until he could look at her, a frown creasing his face. "Why would you say that?"

She wanted to avoid his gaze, but that would be even more proof of her statement, so Denise looked right into his eyes as she spoke.

"Because even though part of me thinks it's murder, I'm going to give Nathanial to Raum. Not just to save my family, but to save my own ass."

"Of course we're giving Nathanial to Raum," Spade replied, waving a hand in dismissal. "You're not offering up an innocent to settle your own debt. That would make you a coward, rather like Nathanial's been, letting his descendants pay for him skipping out on Raum. Don't tell me the sod didn't know others would pay for it, either. You don't renege on a deal with a demon and expect no consequences."

Spade turned her around until she fully faced him, his eyes flashing with green highlights. "And even if you begged me not to, I would still see Nathanial delivered to Raum. You're not a coward, Denise. You actually don't have a choice."

She was too emotionally wired to talk about Nathanial anymore. "I need to shower - and brush my teeth. Ugh, I'm never eating tuna or drinking milk again."

"Fine by me, but you need to eat something else, and soon."

Memory of Nathanial's voice rang in her mind. Stress, pain, fear, hunger, horniness...all those things, if left to build, will trigger the change. Denise thought back to the times her hands had morphed. Nathanial was right; she'd been a combination of hungry, angry, horny, and stressed. Guess being stressed, hungry, then getting stabbed and seeing Spade's reaction to it had blown through whatever defenses the tattoos had given her against Raum's essence.

Well, she certainly never intended to repeat that set of circumstances. A shiver went through Denise, her hand sliding beneath the towel to again feel the reassuring smoothness of her stomach. No fur, no gushing wound. She intended to keep it that way.

Spade drew her to her feet, but didn't leave. Denise cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks warm.

"Ah, could you give me some privacy? I need to use the litter box."

His lips twitched at her bad pun, then he kissed her hand. "I'll go find something for you to wear."

"What happened to the clothes in my suitcase?"

"They're at the bottom of the Mediterranean with the boat."

Oh. She hadn't remembered much of what happened right after leaving the boat, more preoccupied with terror over suddenly being an animal.

Denise gave Spade a wry smile. "Just put the sunken boat on my tab." She might be girlfriend number ten-thousand-and-one to Spade, but so far, she'd probably proved to be the most expensive.

"Stop fretting about things like that. I'm not." Spade kissed her other hand. "I'll see you soon."

He left, closing the door. Denise glanced at the dangling, useless handle and then her reflection. Any situation is better faced with an empty bladder and a clean body, she reminded herself. Oh, and a lack of tuna-vomit breath.

After Spade laid some clothes out on the bed for Denise - and threw away the remnants of milk and tuna - he found Crispin in the drawing room, sipping a whiskey and swirling the liquid around in silent contemplation.

"Where's Nathanial?" Spade asked. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">