Chapter Twenty-four
Spade lay on his back, Denise sleeping within the circle of his arms. Her honeyed jasmine scent mixed with his, creating a muskier, lush fragrance that he occasionally breathed in. It was their scent, sharpened by passion, and with each breath, he savored it.
She's truly mine now.
The possessiveness he felt had nothing to do with being a vampire. Yes, under vampiric law, Denise was his the moment he bit her, if he chose to claim her as such. But this was different. It was the sort of bone-deep emotion that made him want to hold her tighter with one hand - and draw a sword against the world with the other.
It also made him want to wake her up so he could take her again, even though he knew she needed more than the five hours' sleep that had been sufficient for him. He watched the steady rise and fall of her br**sts, the diamond and amethyst necklace still sparking between them. Denise had the blankets pulled up to her waist, but Spade hadn't needed them. Not with the smoldering heat of her body alongside his.
The memory of how incredible it felt inside her had Spade rolling onto his side, facing her. Maybe he'd wake her, take her just once, and then let her fall back asleep afterward...
Sounds of a car pulling into his driveway made him snap into alert. All the guests had left, so it couldn't be a late chauffeur picking up a lingering partygoer, and he wasn't expecting anyone.
He slipped out of bed without disturbing Denise, yanking on his pants and shirt from the previous evening. The sword he put back in the loop on his belt in case this was an uninvited ghoul, but the rest of the knives he grabbed were silver.
Then the car stopped and a door slammed. Spade felt waves of power emanating from the exterior of the house, growing in increasing currents that marked the identity of the person outside as a Master vampire.
Power he recognized all too well.
"Bloody hell," Spade muttered, taking off the knives and sword.
He was already down the last flight of stairs when Alten opened the door. "Bones," Alten said, surprise in his voice.
Crispin saw him rounding the corner and his brow arched. "Going to invite me in, Charles?" he asked crisply.
Even though the power crackling around him was familiar, the scent was familiar, and the annoyed expression on Crispin's face was more than familiar, Spade paused. Hotels and other public places might be fair game, but a demon couldn't come inside a home unless invited. Had Raum somehow found them, and vastly improved his disguise?
"Sire?" Alten asked, flicking his gaze between them.
"You arrived without invitation, you can walk through that door without invitation," Spade replied, tensing.
Crispin snorted in disbelief as he brushed past Alten. Some of the stiffness left Spade as he saw his friend easily clear the threshold.
"If we hadn't been mates for over two centuries, I'd be tempted to knock you on your arse," Crispin said. "What has gotten into you, Charles?"
"Got here right quickly, didn't you?" Spade said, walking toward the less formal living room at the back of the house. He didn't look behind him to see if Crispin followed; he'd come this far, he wouldn't stop now.
"If you were trying to hide, you did a bloody poor job of it by hosting a large party under your name," Crispin replied. "Word gets around about that, especially word that you're relocating here with your new human lover."
"Whiskey?" Spade asked, ignoring that.
"Of course."
Spade filled a crystal glass from the decanter in the living room, handing it to Crispin. His friend took it, still eyeing him in that annoyed, bemused way, but at least he'd come alone. Cat would have stormed up the stairs to search every room for Denise, impatient woman that she was.
"Sit," Spade said, indicating the sofa.
If he was anyone else, he knew Crispin would have refused. Perhaps pulled a weapon and demanded whatever it was he'd come for, but Crispin curled himself into the sofa as languidly as if he'd arrived only to relax.
"You reek of Denise," he remarked in a conversational tone.
Spade's mouth tightened. "That's none of your concern."
"I grow very weary of you telling me that," Crispin said, his tone sharpening. "Shall we quit the pretense and just get straight to why you've taken up with my wife's best friend behind my back? What sort of trouble is Denise in, and why didn't you bring it to my attention when you discovered it?"
Crispin was too smart for his own good, but Spade made one last attempt at evasiveness.
"What makes you think Denise is with me for suspicious reasons? She's a beautiful woman, I'm an attractive-enough bloke, we get on..." Spade dangled the rest of the sentence with a shrug.
"Bollocks," Crispin said, brown eyes narrowing. "We both know you avoid relationships with human women, and we both know that a demon was in Denise's house before she suddenly showed up at your side as your devoted lover."
Crispin must have gone to her home and smelled Raum there. Bloody man was too smart for his own good.
"Not to mention Denise decided to shun all things vampire the last time I was around her," Crispin went on. "I heard it in her thoughts. So even if a demon dropped by to say hallo and nothing else happened, Denise isn't with you out of a sudden desire to join the vampire ranks, so why don't you quit the shite and tell me what's going. If you don't, I'll just read it from her mind the moment I see her."
Damn Crispin's new telepathic skill. He could indeed pluck all the details from Denise's mind as soon as she woke up.
"Before I tell you anything, I must first inform you that whatever her initial reasons for seeking me out, things are serious between Denise and me," Spade said. Then his voice hardened. "You're not leaving with her, Crispin, unless it's over my dried, withered corpse."
Both of his friend's brows shot up, and then Crispin let out a bark of amazed laughter.
"Lucifer's bouncing balls, that's why you're acting like a nutter! You've gone and fallen in love with her. Bloody hell, if I didn't see it on your face myself, I wouldn't believe it."
Crispin was off the couch in the next moment, slapping him on the back. "This is cause for celebration! And no small relief for me as well. I had to force my wife to let me speak with you alone. She fretted that Denise had somehow gotten into trouble and you were holding her against her will."
Spade was momentarily speechless. Was it that obvious how he felt about Denise, or did Crispin just know him too well?
"I'm quite pleased for Denise, too," Crispin went on, his grin fading a bit. "She was broken up very badly after Randy's death, and then her miscarriage - "