First Drop of Crimson (Night Huntress World #1)(15)
Author: Jeaniene Frost

"Remember your part tonight," Spade said, more to take her attention off that than out of concern over her forgetting. "I may have to leave you for a short time, but if I do, stick by Ian."

"I don’t trust him," she said at once.

Spade let out a snort. "Nor should you, but he won’t attempt to mesmerize you or feed from you. Since we’re going to a place filled with different types of vampires, that makes him safer than anyone except me."

He didn’t think there was any real chance of danger to Denise, but he wanted her on her guard nevertheless. Neither one of them brought up the other possibility – that with these circumstances, she might have another panic attack. Their best hope of finding Nathanial was to expose Denise to the largest number of undead persons and their property at a time, but while that was efficient, it was also hazardous to her emotional state.

There was a way around that, however. Spade chose his words carefully. "I know this won’t be easy on you, Denise, but I could help with that. I wouldn’t even need to bite you to do it. A simple suggestion for you to be calmer when you’re around vampires or ghouls would – "

"Absolutely not." She turned her attention away from the traffic to glare at him. "Don’t you dare mess with my mind. I mean it, Spade."

Stubborn woman. He shrugged. "If that’s your decision."

"It is," she said, still glaring. "Promise me you won’t do it."

The harsh scent of fear, anger, and mistrust swirled around her. Very slowly, Spade pulled out one of the silver knives from his coat. She went a shade paler when she saw it, but he ignored that, using the knife to slice a line in his palm.

"You know what a blood oath means to my kind, right?" he asked, holding her gaze. "By my blood, Denise, I swear I will never manipulate your mind."

A sliver of crimson clung to the blade even as the wound closed. Spade kept his hand well below the window that separated the driver’s line of vision from the backseat. Only Denise could see what he’d done, and her scent changed even as the color returned to her face.

"I believe you."

Spade put the knife away, wiping the scant amount of blood onto his pants. They were dark enough that no one would notice. Well, no human would; a vampire or ghoul would smell it, but they wouldn’t care.

The cab jerked to a stop. Spade handed over a twenty, then was outside opening Denise’s door before she’d finished lowering her hand to tug on the handle.

"You don’t need to keep doing that, I can get it," she murmured, looking embarrassed. She tucked a strand of her hair back, the color in her cheeks darkening ever so slightly.

It was such a lovely, feminine response, without the wariness she normally had with him. Though he would have done the same with any woman – no amount of time could erase the strict etiquette he’d been raised with – Spade found himself enjoying her reaction.

"Just because a lady can, doesn’t mean she should," he teased, amused to see her color deepen as she glanced away. Christ, she was lovely.

He slid his gaze over her, unable to help himself. Under her coat, Denise wore a cowl-necked sweater and a long black skirt, her boots peeking out from under its hem and gloves covering her hands. The only skin visible on her was her face and neck. Spade found himself staring at her pulse with a hunger that had nothing to do with blood. What would she taste like, if he placed his mouth there?

And what would she taste like everywhere else he put his mouth?

Denise shivered, snapping his attention back to the fact that they were standing outside on a sidewalk when they should be inside looking for Nathanial.

"This way," he said, extending his arm.

She placed her hand in it with another shiver, not meeting his gaze. A good thing, too, because his eyes had probably gone green with lust.

"What’s it like in this place?" she asked, still looking away.

Spade forced his control back into place. "It’s exactly what you’d think a vampire bar would be like, if you didn’t believe in vampires."

That made her look at him. "Huh?"

He grunted. "You’ll see."

Chapter Eight

I am so overdressed, Denise thought, looking at the people inside the Crimson Fountain. The patrons had a decidedly Goth edge, with black clothes as an apparent must. She felt out of place in her blue sweater, although her skirt and boots were black, at least. Leather and vinyl also seemed to be everywhere, along with various gothic necklaces, earrings, piercings, and tattoos.

Spade led her through the dense crowd of people dancing. She was careful to look at everyone she passed, hoping one of them would be Nathanial. But she wasn’t prepared for the fang-filled smile directed at her when she brushed by a dancer whose skin was as warm as her own.

Surprised, Denise touched his arm again. Warm living flesh, all right. The man’s smile widened, showing more fang.

"Want to dance with the undead, beautiful?" he crooned, swaying his hips.

"But you’re not a vampire."

His smile faded. "Yes I am."

Denise looked at the man, his faux fangs, and the people around him. Exactly what you’d think a vampire bar would be like, if you didn’t believe in vampires. Spade was right. This place looked like every bad undead stereotype come to life. It even had some coffins propped up on the stage behind where the band performed.

"Excuse me," she said, brushing past him.

Spade waited for her a few feet ahead. He had a slight grin on his face. "What do you think?"

"That you have a sick sense of humor, telling Ian to bring his people here," she replied. "And that you’re overdressed, too."

Spade also wasn’t wearing a speck of leather or vinyl. Instead he had on a long-sleeved, creamy silk shirt and slacks that were some sort of thick, expensive-looking material. His floor-length coat only made him look more elegant. She marveled that all the leather-clad wannabes had no idea the classily dressed man was actually the creature they were imitating.

He leaned in, his mouth almost brushing her ear. "It’s the perfect meeting spot. Who’d think real vampires would frequent a place like this?"

Spade didn’t move back after he spoke. Denise wasn’t sure if he was waiting for her to reply, but her mind was suddenly blank. His hair rested against her cheek, dark and silky, and his lips were so close to her ear that her slightest movement would connect them. He was also so tall, she couldn’t see past his shoulders, and with the edges of his coat brushing around her, she felt like one step closer would result in her being swallowed up by him.

The thought was somehow tempting.