First Drop of Crimson
Page 37
Chapter Thirty-six
Spade felt the vibration in his pocket even over the wind ruffling his clothes. He snatched out his mobile, hope leaping in him when he saw the call numbers.
"Denise!" he shouted as he answered it. "Where are you?"
An awful, bone-chilling howl came over the background before Spade heard Nathanial's weak voice.
"Hurry. I can't help her. I can't even tell which one she is. . . "
"Where is she?" Spade thundered. He'd kill that rotten sod if anything had happened to her. He'd rip the flesh from his bones -
"Under one of the two commercial piers in Vieux Port, Marseille. Hurry. "
Spade cursed as he hung up. Marseille was more than an hour and a half away, even at his fastest speed. Could Denise hold off the demon that long?
He aimed his body like a bullet northward even as he dialed Crispin. He picked up on the first ring.
"She's under one of the two commercial piers in Vieux Port, Marseille. The demon is there. Where are you?"
"I'm still in La Condamine, almost two hours away," Crispin replied with open frustration.
And Mencheres was even farther away in Genoa. "Get there as quick as you can," Spade said, hanging up.
He channeled all his energy not into his body, but on a point southwest in the distance. He had to be there. Not here, there. Now. Denise needed him. Go faster.
Flashes of Giselda's crumpled body at the bottom of the ravine filled his mind - her hair reddened from blood, face frozen in pain, body still warmer than the snow around her. She'd been dead only a couple of hours before he arrived on that day. The knowledge of how short a time had elapsed between his arrival and her death had haunted him for over a century, but now would he lose Denise by mere minutes?
He would not fail. He could not. Go. Faster.
The ground blurred into nothingness beneath him. Only the expanse of the water on the horizon mattered, beckoning him with the whisper, She is here. If he concentrated enough, he thought he could almost feel Denise, could taste her struggles against the demon like acid on his tongue.
Go. Faster.
Time passed. That dark water in the distance became more than a hazy smudge low in the sky. Buildings lining the seashore crystallized into more than misshapen, indistinct lumps. After another few minutes, he could make out the basilica landmark, with its golden statue of the Virgin Mary as if she were peering over Marseille. He changed direction ever so slightly to hone in on Vieux Port. Not much longer now. Come on, Denise. Keep fighting.
A few minutes later, the outline of the piers came into view. Spade streamlined his body more, trying to avoid even the slightest resistance to the wind, his power capacity at its zenith. Still, he couldn't see what was underneath the piers. He wasn't at the right angle yet, he was still too high. . .
Spade dipped as low as he could go without risking crashing into any of the structures between him and his goal. Even with the wind roaring by, the first of the howls reached his acute hearing. They sounded like the baying of the damned. Were those the sounds of Denise still battling with the demon, or Raum chortling over his victory?
Go. FASTER.
He sighted the underbelly of the piers in the next several seconds, which seemed to stretch out like a warp in time. The sounds came from the one nearest him. Spade focused on that, seeing a male lump that had to be Nathanial lying on the sand. But ahead of him in knee-deep water, two forms clashed in violent combat.
Two forms. Spade's heart felt like it exploded in his chest. Denise was still alive.
And yet he knew his strength was deteriorating. Blood loss from the fight, combined with the expulsion of all his power to reach her as quickly as he had, left Spade almost dizzy from encroaching weakness. He'd arrived in time to fight the demon, but he had almost no energy left.
All I need to do is hold him off until Crispin gets here, Spade thought grimly. He only needed to keep Denise alive that long. He could do it. The demon might not have any silver, after all.
The figures locked in a death match became clearer with each passing second. Spade had never seen the demon before, but even this far away, it was obvious neither of them was in human form. Two equally horrendous monsters grappled each other in the surf.
Smart girl, the thought flashed across his mind. Denise must have dragged the demon into the salt water, knowing how it would hurt him. Another few seconds showed that one of the creatures held a pale, bony knife. Spade couldn't tell which was Denise. One of the creatures had bulbous muscles, an enormous, misshapen head, and a powerful body covered in skin that seemed to be blistered. The other was just as large, with an appearance that seemed to be derived from the most grotesque version of the grave -
Spade zeroed in on them, moving his arms in front to hold his fists out in a straight line. With the fierceness of their battle, neither was aware of his zooming approach. Their snarls and howls of fury rang in his ears, one of them now so very familiar.
He plowed into the enormous blistered-skinned creature with all his speed, knocking it away from the other one. Slamming both of them into the soft sand floor, covering the creature with seawater and his own body. The tremendous impact stunned Spade as well, but he forced his body to twist, holding the creature on top of him. His arms lashed around the struggling figure, fighting to keep its head locked into position. The creature bucked and flailed so powerfully, Spade knew that if he didn't let go soon, his arms would be ripped from their sockets.
"Denise, now!" he tried to scream, but saltwater and sand filled his mouth. His entire head was under water. She couldn't hear him, or perhaps she was too far gone mentally to even understand.
The creature's claws bit into the arm Spade had fastened around its neck, tearing. Pulling. Pain and pressure built through Spade's body, but he didn't let go. It would have to tear him to pieces before he'd release that monstrosity back on Denise -
A shriek split through Spade's ears, unbearable even through the cocoon of water and sand. Then that heaving, thrashing creature in his grip began to shudder, its claws no longer ripping into Spade, but sliding off instead. The sea felt like it boiled around him, foam clouding what little vision he'd had, until he saw nothing but frothing white. And then the twenty-stone creature on top of him began to shrink. . . until it was pushed away and fresh claws dug into his skin.
Spade let the other creature pull him up, not batting away the monsterish hands that gripped him. He blinked, trying to get the sand out of his gaze, but could still make out the rapidly decomposing body at his feet. Its eye sockets were blackened holes with that bone knife still sticking out of one of them. Then Spade turned back to the hulking form of the large, ravenous zombie bending its head toward him.
"Get back, you don't know if that's her!" Nathanial shouted.
"Yes I do," Spade replied, gently grasping the warped arms and ignoring the needles of pain from the claws still stuck in him. "It's all right, darling. You can stop now. Look at him. You did it. He's gone. "
And she had, as amazing as that was. Lovely, brave, gentle Denise. Demon slayer.
Those claws pulled out of his arms and that beastly head dropped, looking down as if ashamed. Spade didn't hesitate. He pulled her into his embrace, noting with irony that in the form she'd chosen, ripped straight from that awful New Year's Eve, they were now the same height.
"It's all right, darling," he repeated, stroking her. "It's finished. You can come back to me now, Denise, come back. . . "
During the several minutes it took Nathanial to crawl over, smelling strongly of blood, Raum's body had turned to bones in the surf and Denise had transformed back into herself. Spade kept one foot planted on the remains of the demon as he drew off his shirt and covered her with it. Most of her clothes had been torn beyond decency in her fight with Raum, or torn from her body expanding into a much larger size.
"Spade," she whispered at last, tears sparkling in her gaze.
"You knew me. Even like that, you knew it was me. "
"Of course I did," he responded, holding her tightly. Overwhelming relief coursed through him, mixing with joy as the panic from the past few hours released its hold. Denise was safe. She was whole. He'd ask for nothing more out of life.
"I couldn't do it," she said, voice soft. "I'm so sorry for worrying you, and for hitting Oliver, but I couldn't give Nathanial to him. It would have destroyed something in me that I refuse to lose, and I couldn't risk Raum getting revenge on you for those salt bombs, either. "
"I don't want to talk about that now. " Yes, he was still upset over how she'd risked herself so recklessly, but he didn't want to berate her at the moment. He was too damn glad that she was alive.
She took in a deep, ragged breath. "Spade. . . the brands are permanent now. Only Raum could remove them, and he's dead. I can't die as I am, unless you stab my eyes out with that demon knife, but I'll stay like this. If you can't deal with me being a - a shape-shifter, I'll understand - "
"Foolish girl," he cut her off, pulling back to look into her hazel eyes. "According to what you just said, you're safer now than you ever would be, even as a vampire. So I don't give a rot about you occasionally changing shape. You could transform into a zombie, a werewolf, or a cat again. Whatever you fancy. I'll still be there, and I'll still be madly in love with you. "
She hugged him fiercely. "I love you so much," she choked.
Spade returned her embrace with equal passion, that feeling of joy and relief growing even deeper. He meant what he'd said. If Denise were a vampire, well, silver was easy to come by, but demon knives? The only one he knew of was still in the bony eye socket of Raum's corpse, and Spade would grind the demon's remains to dust so that no other weapons could be forged from him.
Even as she still clutched him to her, Denise started to laugh. "Nathanial can show me how to better control the changes, but even so, you never have to worry about me turning into a cat again. Didn't you know? I'm allergic to cats. "