And if she lived through what she did next, she'd stop punishing herself, too. For letting Randy get killed, for the miscarriage...all of it. It's time for both of us to be forgiven, Denise realized. More than time.
"Raum," she said, raising her voice. "I want to get out of here, but first I want you to prove that you can give me my payment."
The demon swung around, still cradling Nathanial in an embrace tighter than a lover would use. "Oh, really?" Raum drew out. "And how do you think you'll have me prove that?"
The dangerous challenge in the demon's voice would have made Denise back away shivering five weeks ago, but not tonight. She met that red-tinged gaze without blinking.
"You promised me if I brought Nathanial to you, you'd leave my family alone forever. And that you'd take these brands off and your essence out of me, returning me to a normal human. You might say I'm a little leery of you after everything I've been through, so why don't you show me first that I'll survive getting these brands off. Or I run as fast as I can back to the vampires, and you can try to chase me while toting Nathanial."
A smile played around Raum's lips. "Quite the little firecracker now, aren't you? I like this side of you, Denise. It's very attractive."
The way he emphasized that last word made Denise's flesh crawl, but she knew that was why he'd done it. Raum wanted her to be cowering and frightened, but if she let him rattle her even once, she wouldn't have the nerve to follow through on the rest of it.
"Take the brands off Nathanial. Let me see that he's normal again. Then take off mine and we can go our separate ways, me alone and you with him. Like you agreed."
"Don't do it, please," Nathanial begged. Tears leaked out of his eyes, and the desperation on his face was palpable. "That's too quick. Don't you want to torture me when I'll be able to heal over and over? Haven't you wanted to make me scream for a long time, Raum? You can't do that if I'm human!"
Clever ploy, Denise thought. The demon's expression had been skeptical when Denise finished talking, but after hearing Nathanial, he smiled with such malevolent anticipation that part of her wanted to run away from the mere sight of it. Don't you dare, she ordered herself. You can beat him. He'll never expect you to fight back.
"Why, Nathanial, you have smartened up these past long decades, haven't you? You know no matter what I do to you, it's better than what will happen once you're human and I can kill you. I did plan to take my time playing with you first, but - "
"Yes, yes, play with me!" Nathanial shouted. More tears poured. "I deserve it, you've earned it..."
"But this will be even more fun!" Raum said, his voice turning into a feral roar.
Then Raum seized Nathanial's forearms, the demon's hands covering those intricate tattoos, before he plunged his fingertips inside Nathanial's skin.
Nathanial screamed, high-pitched and piercing. That smell of sulfur increased while a hazy buzzing seemed to fill the air.
"Feel that?" Raum snarled. "It's the end of your immortality, boy!"
Now, Denise told herself.
She scratched gouges into her legs with her clawed hands, bringing a fresh spurt of pain. In her mind, she focused on the image of one of the creatures from that New Year's Eve. Creatures so foul, so powerful, they didn't exist anywhere but in the darkest realms of the most forbidden black magic.
That feeling of blind chaos spread through her body, the same one she'd felt when she transformed on the boat. This time, however, Denise didn't try to fight it. She fed the wildness, expanding it with all the horrible images from that night. Focusing on all the details of the creature that months of antidepressants, therapy, and distance from the undead world still hadn't let her forget.
Her skin felt like it burst, waves of pain and energy wracking her entire body in lightning-fast blasts. Only a small part of her was aware that Raum turned around to give her almost a quizzical glance.
"What the hell?" he muttered.
A howl came out of her throat, as hideous and loud as the sounds that had haunted her nightmares. Then Denise bent and pulled the bone knife from the sand.
She'd show the demon what the hell.
With another unearthly bellow, Denise charged at Raum.
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.