Spade flung him off, his hand going to his knife when Crispin started toward him once more.

"Touch me again and I'll kill you," he growled, whirling and running in the direction where Giselda's scent was the strongest*and where other harsh, vile scents intertwined with hers.

He didn't pause to check on the footman sprawled in a heap at the edge of the woods. A sc.r.a.p of material clung to the th.o.r.n.y bush just beyond the footman. Spade dashed into the woods, following the reeking scents, seized with terror as he saw the multiple footprints in the mud and snow. She'd run, but she'd been chased.

The torn-up spot of earth he came upon next brought him skidding to a stop. It stank of sweat, blood, terror, and l.u.s.t. Rage exploded in him as he saw pieces of a woman's pantalets strewn about, the circling imprint of boots, then a larger impression of a body pressed into the earth, blood and other stains at the center of it.

Spade swung around, following the trailing scent of blood until he came to a large splatter at the crest of a hill. Everything in him tightened as he looked down the steep incline.

A redheaded woman was crumpled at the bottom, her dress half ripped off, her bruised body twisted and motionless. For a split second Spade felt overwhelming relief. It wasn't Giselda; her hair was blond. Perhaps this poor la.s.s had been traveling with her*

Realization crashed through him in the next instant. He flung himself down the ravine, a cry tearing out of him when he turned the woman over. Giselda's frozen, pain-ravaged face stared back at him, her hair red from the blood soaked into it, her throat sliced open to the bone.

"You lied to me," Raum said, tutting with the sort of disapproval one would use on a child. "You told me Spade was human, yet that's a vampire you were rolling around in the snow with, calling by that name."

Denise glanced at the door, hoping that Spade would somehow magically appear. But there was only the demon in front of her, his light brown hair in a ponytail again, wearing an Ozzy Osborne T-shirt over his jeans.

"How did you find me?" Had Raum been following them the entire time? He'd obviously been spying on them in the park, at least.

Raum c.o.c.ked a brow. "You didn't think I'd let you loose without a leash, did you?

These"*he grasped her arms and the brands under her gloves*"have many uses. I would have called on you before, but the vampire was always there. Glad he's finally gone. Got a bit too excited drinking from you, hmm?"

Denise was too scared to be embarra.s.sed over what the demon had seen. "You haven't done anything to my family, have you?" Please, no.

"I will," Raum said bluntly. "It's been a week. What progress do you have to report?"

"It's not as easy as I thought it would be," Denise began.

Raum released her. "Off to kill your father," he said in a cheery tone, reaching for the door handle.

"Wait!" Denise grabbed him, panic welling in her. "I'll find Nathanial soon, I promise!

Please don't do that."

The demon considered her, a little smile still hovering over his lips. "I do so enjoy begging. It would be even more fun if you were covered in blood when you were doing it*but there's some here, isn't there?"

Raum yanked her head to the side with a fistful of hair, sniffing deeply near her neck.

"You stink like vampire. Is this how you repay my generosity? I offer you and your family a reprieve, but you squander your time feeding vampires instead of finding Nathanial. I'm beginning to question your usefulness." Denise blinked back tears from the twisting grip Raum had on her. She'd probably be missing a hunk of her hair when he let go.

"What do you think the vampire wanted in exchange for his help?" she lied, thinking fast.

"We're close. We have a good lead and we're closing in on Nathanial. I just need a little more time."

Raum let go of her. As she'd antic.i.p.ated, he had several strands of her hair still wound around his fingers.

"An extension," he mused. "And you want me not to kill any of your family during this extension, I suppose?"

"That's right. Please," she added, hatred burning inside her at his delight over her anguish.

"But I have to punish you for your slowness," Raum said, as though that were the only logical conclusion. "Still, I'm in a good mood, so I'll give you a choice. Pick which family member you want to die. It can be anyone, even a second or third cousin. Or I'll increase the effect in those brands."

Denise glanced down at her wrists. She couldn't see the marks, but they seemed to throb in Raum's presence. She wanted nothing more than to get his foul stamp off her, not amplify it, but what he'd offered her was no choice at all.

Denise took her gloves off and then slid her hands into Raum's grip. "Go ahead." He grinned. "Are you certain? This will hurt."

She braced herself even as she met his gaze. "I wouldn't expect anything less." Raum's hands closed over her wrists. Denise promised herself she wouldn't scream, but once he started, it was impossible not to.

Spade heard the voices as if from a long way off.

"* body of a white male, late twenties to early thirties, no identification," a female intoned. "Preliminary cause of death appears to be a stab wound. The knife is still embedded in the victim's throat*"

b.o.l.l.o.c.ks, Spade thought, listening to the multiple heartbeats and the shambling of feet around him. He must have pa.s.sed out and been taken for a corpse. From the sounds of it, there were too many witnesses for him to get up, thank them for their time, and get the h.e.l.l away, either.

Now that he was conscious, the silver burned in his neck and his head banged with a truly awful clamoring. The pain from the silver he expected; the headache was a mystery. It's a hangover, he realized in amazement, noting how sluggish and ill the rest of him felt as well. Thought I'd experienced the last of those when I was human.

But at least his mind was clear, painful as the banging in his head might be. Denise's blood had caused him to hallucinate for who knew how long, until it occurred to him that he had to purge himself of the poison in him. That's when he'd taken a knife to his throat, wedging the blade in and willing his blood to flow out of the wound. Only when he'd drained himself to a trickle had he felt the worst of the hallucinations leave him, but apparently that was also when he pa.s.sed out.

And now he was being photographed, printed, and processed as a murder victim. Why couldn't the citizens of New York go back to not caring when they stumbled across a body? Everyone had to be such a Good Samaritan nowadays.

It took another hour of him lying there, waiting for the coppers to finish with him, until Spade was zipped inside a body bag and wheeled into an ambulance. He waited until the ambulance was well away from the park before ripping the heavy plastic with a fang and pulling it open.

"Jesus! "

A white-faced paramedic stared at him, shock and horror competing on his face. Spade yanked the knife out of his throat, tucked it into his trousers, and gave the lad a cool smile.

"Not nearly, mate."

The ambulance swerved as the driver stared back at him with equal shock. Spade rolled his eyes. Poor bloke would wreck if he wasn't careful.

"Watch the road," he said, letting power leak out of his gaze. "You didn't see me get up.

You don't know what happened to me."

"Don't know," the paramedics mumbled in unison.

Spade climbed into the front and then went out of the side door, not bothering to tell them to stop first. A quick leap into traffic and then he was back on the sidewalk, heading for the Plaza. He was anxious to return to Denise. He'd taken quite a lot of blood from her while in the initial throes of its druglike effects. She'd looked stable when she made it to the hotel, but what if she'd gone into shock since then?

The strange looks from the people he pa.s.sed reminded him that he was covered in blood and missing his shirt. Right, that would draw too much attention. Spade ducked into the nearest alcove and then grabbed the next person walking past.

"Quiet," he said, glaring at the young woman with his gaze lit up. "Give me your coat." She handed it over without another word. Spade put it on. It was several sizes too small.

Still, it covered what it needed to and he wouldn't be wearing it long.

"Off you go," Spade told her.

He made it to the Plaza as quickly as he could without revealing his supernatural speed.

Once inside, though, he ignored the elevators in favor of the stairwell. One clear shot upward had him flying past the different floors in a blur, arriving at nineteen in seconds.

The stench of sulfur drifted to him as soon as he opened the stairwell door. A demon had been on this floor.

Spade flew the rest of the way, not caring now who might see him. He crashed through his hotel room and rolled when he hit the carpet, the same silver knife that had been in his throat now gripped in his hand.

"Denise?" he called out. "Denise!"

She appeared in the bedroom doorway, blood still staining her neck, her face even paler than his normally was.

"You're back," she said, swaying.

Spade caught her before she hit the floor.

Chapter Eleven.

Denise's eyes fluttered open. Spade leaned over her, a deep frown creasing his face.

Blood covered the front of him and even clumped in his hair. Considering what had happened the last time she'd been this close to him, she should have been concerned about his proximity to her throat. But right now, she couldn't summon the strength to worry about being bitten.

"You look like h.e.l.l," she murmured.

Spade didn't smile. "What did he do to you?"

She didn't want to talk about it. She'd thought it was agonizing the first time Raum forced his essence into her, but this last occasion made her realize what the word pain really meant. The hotel had sent security to her room. She'd had to lie and say she twisted her ankle*as if that would explain several minutes of screaming. What they'd heard, anyway. Raum had covered her mouth after he got bored listening to it.

"What did he do?" Spade repeated, more emphatically this time.

Denise closed her eyes. "He upped the dosage on the marks," she said, trying to keep the horror of remembrance out of her voice. "He wasn't happy with my progress." Spade muttered something low and fierce, too rapidly for her to catch. "Shouldn't have stayed at a hotel," he finished with. "Should have picked a private home where demons couldn't enter. I didn't think he'd followed us here, but he's obviously smarter than I realized. We're leaving, Denise, just as soon as we get cleaned up."

"Doesn't matter where we go." It was so exhausting to talk. She'd stayed awake only out of concern over where Spade was. When he didn't come back at dawn, she'd been worried that something happened to him. Now her energy was totally depleted. What Raum did felt like it almost killed her.

"What do you mean?" A light shake made her open her eyes. "Come on, you can't sleep yet."

It took all her effort to wave her wrist at Spade. "He can track me through the brands. So it doesn't matter where we go. He'll find me."

Spade didn't say anything. Denise closed her eyes again. It felt like she'd only shut them for a second, but then the splash of warm water jolted them open.

She was in the shower. Clasped in Spade's arms, it looked like. And he'd taken her boots off and was now peeling off her skirt.

"What?" she managed.

"I have to get your blood off both of us," he said grimly. "It's not safe otherwise." If she didn't feel like she'd been run over by a truck, she would have protested. But right now, as long as she didn't have to move, she didn't care what Spade did.

His hand cupped around her forehead, then more water ran down her neck. Denise closed her eyes.

"Sorry."

It came out in a whisper. Spade turned them, and the stream from the shower ran over her stomach next. He must have gotten her sweater off, too, from the feel of it. Was her bra still on? An exhausted glance down revealed it was. So was her underwear.

"What are you sorry for?"

Her face was in the crook of his throat, so his voice vibrated against her. Maybe it was because she was still only half conscious, because she answered with the truth.

"How I acted when you bit me. Didn't mean to. Didn't know it would make it hard for you to stop*"

"Christ, is that what you think happened?" Denise felt his hand brush her face. "It wasn't you; it was your blood. The essence from Raum's brands turned it into a sort of drug for vampires, it seems. I felt the effects as soon as I swallowed; but what's in your blood is so powerful, I couldn't stop. I've heard of altered blood being sold on the black market to young, stupid vampires seeking a thrill, but I didn't realize*" Spade's voice trailed off. Then he shook her until her eyes opened. The intensity on his face was enough to wake her all the way up.

"What?"

"That's it, Denise. Your blood changed after Raum branded you. That's how we'll track Nathanial. Through his blood."

Spade strode into Ian's parlor without waiting for the butler to announce him.

"Who would I go to if I were looking for some Red Dragon?" Ian clicked off his telly with a snort. "I say, Charles, you've truly turned over a new leaf since you started s.h.a.gging this one, haven't you?"

"Don't speak of her that way," Spade growled at once.

Denise looked pleased that he'd corrected Ian's rudeness, but Ian's slow smile confirmed he knew the real reason behind Spade's response. He cursed himself for his possessive reaction. It was one thing to act as though Denise were his while they were in public.

Quite another to feel that way, however. Spade felt like he was in quicksand when it came to his emotions for Denise. The more he struggled, the deeper he sank.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Ian drawled.

Spade gave Ian a single glare.

"Looking for some Red Dragon, you say?" Ian replied, his arched brow saying he'd drop the matter* for now.

"I don't remember talking about a dragon," Denise whispered.

Spade glanced down at her. "Chasing the Dragon is an expression for seeking a narcotic high. Vampires call their drug Red Dragon, because it's only through tainted blood that we can be affected by a chemical stimulant."

Though now he knew the stimulant in Red Dragon wasn't chemical at all. The vampires who sought it out either didn't care what ingredient in it gave them the high, or knew not to ponder it publicly. Consuming or selling Red Dragon was against vampire law. After all, hallucinating, out-of-control vampires threatened the secrecy of the race, and nothing was of more concern to the undead world than keeping their existence a secret.

Denise had no idea how dangerous her blood was. If the Law Guardians found out she was a walking drug, they wouldn't give her the chance to find Nathanial and have the brands taken off. They'd kill her without a moment's hesitation. And if the suppliers of Red Dragon discovered Denise was another source for their illicit, highly expensive trade, they'd turn her existence into a living h.e.l.l.

A muscle ticked in Spade's jaw. d.a.m.ned if he'd allow either to happen.

"Can't say I have any," Ian went on, with a shake of his head. "Very hard to come by, of course. I tried it once. It was fun for 'round an hour, but then it gave me the most rotten dreams plus a headache the next day*a b.l.o.o.d.y headache! Why would you want to trifle with that poison, Charles?"

"I have my reasons," Spade replied.