get,” she said.
Spade gave Ian a measured stare. “If you betray me on what I’m about to tell you, it will likely get me killed. And if it doesn’t, I
Ian shrugged. “Acceptable terms, mate.”
Spade looked at Denise again. Her dark brown hair mixed with Cat’s crimson strands in the wind, and for a second, seeing that flash of red by Denise’s face brought the memory of Giselda’s blood-soaked, lifeless image.
“The source of Web’s Red Dragon industry is probably a demon-marked bloke named Nathanial. I’m stealing Nathanial away from Web in order to give him back to the demon that marked him, and I need to do that before anyone realizes Denise is now a source, too.”
Denise tried not to think about the last time she was in a house with Spade and Cat under perilous circumstances—not to mention, there was a
“Don’t you want something to eat?” Spade asked, squeezing her hand.
Her stomach let out a yowl of the affirmative, but with how tense she was, Denise was afraid if she ate anything, it might come back up.
“No, I’m fine.”
Cat was clearly wired, too. She’d wanted to go with Bones, but he said it was better if she stayed back. Not because he was worried about her, but the sight of Cat would arouse too much suspicion. Alone, with his power cloaked, he had a chance at not being recognized as he lurked around the streets by Web’s property. With Cat, those odds diminished.
And Cat couldn’t read minds like Bones could to pick up if Ian was in any danger as he crashed Web’s house under the pretense of being in the neighborhood. It was plausible that Ian had come to Monaco to see Spade, and Ian knew Web from a few shady dealings in the past. Denise questioned the wisdom of Ian doing reconnaissance at Web’s house, but he brushed it off.
“Web knows I’m a scoundrel,” Ian had said with a slanted grin. “He won’t think anything of
He had a good point.
“Gotta say, I’m getting hungry myself,” Cat remarked, standing up to pace.
“Oh, Spade has a ton of food left over from the party,” Denise said, stopping at the look Cat gave her. “What?”
“Crap, I forgot you don’t know…” Cat began.
“What?” Denise asked with more emphasis.
Cat’s gray eyes turned green. That was nothing unusual; it was a mark of her half-vampire side that Denise had seen countless times. But then Cat opened her mouth in a sheepish smile to reveal two upper fangs that had never been there before.
“Holy shit,” Denise breathed. “You did it. You actually did it.”
“A few months ago,” Cat said, those fangs retracting until just her normal teeth showed again. “At first things were too crazy for me to tell you about it, but then…”
Denise looked away. Yeah. Then she wasn’t taking Cat’s calls. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“It’s all right, I knew you needed time,” Cat replied softly. She gave Spade a harder look. “You’d better be good to her.”
“Or you’ll shove something silver in me where the sun doesn’t shine?” Spade asked, grinning at Denise.
She looked away in embarrassment at the threat she’d hurled at him just this morning, but Cat nodded.
“You’ve got it, buddy.”
“And same to you with Crispin, Reaper,” Spade replied in a mild tone.
Denise stifled her snort. As if Spade’s chivalry would allow him to do anything to a woman. The harshest punishment she could imagine him dishing out to Cat would be refusing to open a door for her.
“Shh,” Spade said suddenly. His eyes narrowed. “I hear something.”
Denise strained her ears, but came up with nothing. Cat cocked her head and then threw Spade an incredulous glance.
“Is that
Spade let out a snort. “Appears so.”
Denise still couldn’t hear anything, to her frustration. Again she cursed her brands for not giving her any useful abilities. Finally, after a solid five minutes, she caught the sound drifting from outside.
“…
Ian’s voice, loud and off tune. Denise blinked. “Is that code?”
Spade shook his head with disgust. “No. It’s
Bones soundlessly came through the door a moment later, startling her. “He’s so bloody pissed, he can hardly walk,” he announced.
Denise knew enough English slang by now to know that didn’t mean Ian was mad, and there was only one thing that could inebriate a vampire. Had Nathanial been in Web’s house? Or had Ian gotten the Red Dragon from a vial, as Black Jack distributed it?
“
After more stumbling noises, the operetta-singing vampire appeared. Ian’s eyes were bloodshot, he had a smear of dirt on his face, and his shirt was buttoned up wrong.
“Hallo, all!” Ian announced cheerfully. “That was a
“Ian, mate, you look a bit worse for wear,” Spade gritted out, glaring at him. “Let’s get you tucked into bed before you break anything else.”
“
Cat looked at Bones and let out a grunt. “Useless,” she muttered.
Spade grabbed Ian, hissing something in his ear Denise didn’t hear. Whatever it was, Ian laughed. “Charles, mate, you fret too much. I’m a grown man, I am, and I can blood my handle.”
“Handle your blood?” Bones offered dryly.
Ian grinned. “Exactly.”
Denise sighed. It was clear they weren’t getting any information out of Ian tonight. She, Bones, and Cat followed as Spade supported Ian, almost carrying him up the stairs to then dump him on the bed in a guest room.
“Before you go, mate, turn on the telly. Something raunchy, too. Think I’ll rub one off before I sleep.”
“God, you’re disgusting,” Cat grumbled. Denise agreed.
To her surprise, Bones went across the bedroom, flipped through the channels, and stopped on some thing pornographic, turning it up. Moans, cries, and groans filled the room.
Ian sat up like a puppet yanked into action. “He’s got someone there with Dragon in his blood,” he said low, the slur considerably less in his words. “Couldn’t tell if he matched your description, poppet, because they had him covered up except for his thighs, arse, and cock. Too bad you didn’t describe one of
Denise’s mouth dropped, both in surprise at Ian’s abrupt recovery, and hearing the condition in which Web had the man who might be Nathanial.
Spade didn’t look surprised by either. His mouth was set in a grim line. “Package deals,” he muttered, throwing a glance in her direction.
Denise’s stomach heaved, making her glad she hadn’t eaten before. She looked at Ian in horror.
“I say, look at the melons on