Spade knocked Web to the deck, his sole focus on preventing those knives from slashing across Denise's throat or disemboweling her. Terror gave him greater speed as he wrenched the knives away from Web and then flung them into the ocean.

Web staggered back, the hunk torn out of his arms by Denise's claws healing before his gaze. Her hands had changed moments before she attacked him, stretching into those monsterlike talons that punched through her gloves while her eyes slanted at an unnatural angle.

"Kitten, secure Nathanial," Spade heard Bones shout, but it barely registered. Bloodlust competed with a screaming violence within him. He needed to get Denise below to heal her. He needed to rip every limb off Web's body.

His decision was made when he saw the blood still gushing out of Denise's stomach. Spade swung her up, kicking Web hard enough to knock him against the bow, but left him there while he hurried to take her below.

Denise fought him, snarls coming from her throat and her beautiful hazel eyes filling up with red. Spade jumped down into the interior hallway that led to the bedrooms, tearing his wrist open with his fangs.

"Drink," he ordered, holding his bleeding wrist to her mouth.

Denise tried to turn her head away, but Spade forced the drops of his blood into her mouth. She swallowed, grimacing. When his wrist healed, Spade bit it open again, this time to drip his blood directly over the stab wound in her stomach.

Even as that awful gash began to heal, Denise gasped, those noises continuing to come out of her throat instead of words. Spade went into the stateroom, setting her on the bed and watching her in rising panic. Her injury had healed; why did it seem like she was getting worse?

"Denise, look at me. Tell me what's wrong," he urged.

Her eyes were all red now, slanting at those impossible angles, and her clawed hands ripped at his wrists to knock him away. Harsh, unintelligible sounds came from her, growing in volume as her struggles increased.

"Crispin!" Spade shouted. Maybe Denise needed stronger blood than his. Could Web's knives have somehow been poisoned?

It was Cat who came barreling into the bedroom. Spade ignored her gasp when she saw Denise, not sparing her a glance.

"Get Crispin," he snapped.

Denise began to writhe, the noises from her sounding more frantic. Spade had never seen anything like this before. What was wrong with her?

"I told you, I can help," a voice said from behind Cat.

Spade swung around, his gaze narrowing when he saw it was Nathanial. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's like me," Nathanial whispered. "The brands...she's too far gone to stop it now."

"Make sense or I'll snap your bloody spine," Spade barked, terror seizing him at hearing "too far gone." No. She couldn't be.

"Move aside," Nathanial said.

Spade gave him a look that promised a long, horrible death if he did anything to harm her, but Denise's convulsive jerking made him willing to let the lad try whatever he thought could help.

"What's her name? Denise?" Nathanial asked.

"Yes." One word, clipped.

"Hold her, but not too tight. Let her move. Just don't let her get away."

Spade complied, moving behind Denise to wrap her loosely in his arms, ignoring her clawed nails scoring into his flesh.

Crispin appeared behind Cat in the narrow passageway. "What is it?"

"I don't know," Spade said tightly. "She's...not well."

"I killed the other vampire, but Web got away. We need to leave. He'll have more people on the way soon, if not already," Crispin said with a grim glance at Denise.

"You can't move her yet, you don't understand!" Nathanial exclaimed.

Crispin lasered a glare on him. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

"Argue with him later, I need his help now," Spade ground out. "Find another way, Crispin. Buy us time."

His friend wordlessly went topside. The boat lurched moments later as Crispin gunned the engines.

Nathanial knelt in front of her. "Denise, I know you can hear me," he began in a strong, clear voice. "You're panicking because you feel like you're being pulled inside out, but you'll be all right. You got too upset and it triggered the change. You're too far into it to stop, but you can control it."

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Spade demanded. "If you're making this up, I'll - "

"Don't bother with threats, there's nothing you can do to me that hasn't been done," Nathanial replied bleakly before his tone hardened. "I've been through this before. You haven't, so be quiet and do as I say."

Cat looked almost as shocked by that bold statement as she was by Denise's altered hands and eyes, but she didn't say anything. Spade decided to follow her example. He clamped his mouth shut.

Nathanial returned his attention to Denise, who was twisting and moaning in that guttural, bone-chilling way.

"Listen to me, Denise," he commanded, moving closer. "If you don't control what you change into, your mind will pick whatever scares you the most, and I'm guessing it'll be something that ends up killing everyone on this boat. So focus on what I'm saying to you. Stop struggling."

Denise's horrible moans didn't stop, but her attempts to break free from Spade did. He felt a flare of hope. She understood what the lad was saying to her, even enough to act on it. Whatever was happening, her con sciousness hadn't been buried beyond reach underneath it.

"Good. See? You're in control enough to force your body into doing what you want. You've fed the demon essence too much to stop the change, but it won't be permanent. Do you understand, Denise? You'll be okay."

Something like a sob came out of her. Spade's heart twisted hearing it.

"I want you to think of something small, something harmless," Nathanial went on. "Something that couldn't hurt anyone. Focus on that. See it in your mind. Don't think about anything else, just that..."

Denise's entire body shuddered, then unbelievably, Spade felt her bones start to shrink under his hands. Her skin rippled around her frame as if it were water, folding into itself and contracting along with the rest of her.

"Oh. My. God." Cat's voice, mirroring the shock he felt.

"You're all right," Nathanial said, never losing that confidence in his tone even though Spade felt like his world was tilting out from under him. "You're doing good. You're controlling it. Keep focusing on that small, harmless image. Don't let it out of your mind for a second..."

Denise continued to shrink until her clothes covered most of what Spade could see of her. He was frozen, unable to move or speak, watching as the woman he loved seemed to vanish in front of his eyes.

"You're doing good," Nathanial chanted.

If Spade could still talk, he'd have told the lad he'd lost his bloody mind, calling anything about what was happening "good." But he could only stare as there was a final shuddering underneath the pile of clothes that, minutes ago, Denise had worn, but now covered...whatever was left of her.

Cat recovered faster than Spade did. "Where is she?" Then louder. "Where the hell did Denise go?"

With a hiss, a mahogany-colored cat shot out from beneath the clothes, darting at once to hide in the corner.

"There she is," Nathanial said calmly.

Spade stood in the security line at the airport in Vienna, gripping a pet carrier in one hand and Nathanial's shoulder in the other. Crispin and Cat were right behind Nathanial. Cat looked normal, but Spade knew it was taking all her concentration to function this early into the morning.

"Will you be checking your pet with your luggage, or upgrading to first class to board it with you?" the ticketing employee asked.

A strangled noise escaped Cat. Spade clenched his jaw. "Upgrading," he bit out.

Inside the carrier, a loud hiss followed by a series of angry scratching sounds made the employee glance up.

"I'll need proof of current vaccinations," she said.

Spade leaned forward until their faces were only a foot apart, green flashing from his eyes.

"You've got the proof, now hurry along," he growled.

A glazed look settled over her gaze but her fingers flew across the keyboard. In moments, Spade had his ticket - and his papers to fly with an animal. Nathanial better be right about this being only temporary, Spade thought, fighting the urge to kill someone just as an outlet for the frustration seething in him.

"It'll be okay," Nathanial said, as if reading his mind. "As soon as she's relaxed, she'll change back."

The cat - Denise - was anything but relaxed now. She'd hissed and clawed at anything that came near her, until Spade had to scruff her in order to fly away from the boat with her. Now, of course, they needed to use a more traditional form of flying to get to a safe place. Anywhere within a hundred miles of Monaco was too close to Web and his people for Spade's comfort.

He waited another ten minutes until everyone had their tickets, needing to briefly green-eye the employee again for Ian's fake ID to pass as Nathanial. It wasn't such a stretch; both men were of similar height, hair color, and age in human appearance, but no sense risking a security delay when there was a way around it. The lad had been very cooperative since Spade told him tersely that he'd captured him to help Denise. That was true, after all. Just not how the bloke realized.

Once on board the plane to Bucharest, however, Spade's icy composure began to crack. The woman he loved was in a cat carrier at his feet, and he had only the word of a shiftless, demon-dodging sod that it wasn't permanent. Denise's hands changed back, Spade reminded himself, but it was poor comfort. Mild hand deformity was nothing compared to this.

"Does this flight have meal service?" Nathanial asked the attendant before his seat belt was even on.

"Shut it," Spade ground out, longing to strangle him. If not for him, Denise wouldn't be a hundred pounds lighter and covered in fur.

"But I have to eat," Nathanial said. "Stress, pain, fear, hunger, horniness...all those things, if left to build, will trigger the change. I'm already stressed worrying about Web showing up and I'm guessing I can't get a blow job anytime soon, so I have to calm my hunger cravings, at least."

Crispin leaned forward in his seat behind them. "You're telling me Web's kept you shagged, fed, relaxed, and happy, all while siphoning your blood off to sell?" he asked low, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Bollocks."

Nathanial turned around, his face hardening from its normal, almost boyish expression.

"No. He kept me fucked whether I wanted it or not, drained to the point of constant weakness, and nothing close to relaxed. But I'm assuming with how he acts, he cares enough about her not to treat her that way."

"You realize if you're not telling us how to really get Denise back, you'll have a very short, awful life," Cat said with quiet steel in her tone.

Spade agreed, but just in case the lad was telling the truth, he didn't want Nathanial rattled. Having him shift into Cain-knew-what on an airplane would be disastrous.

"Now's not the time for this discussion," he said to both of them. Then, to Nathanial, "I'll see if there's anything here you can eat."

Two hours and all the available snacks on the plane later, they landed in Bucharest. England would be the first place Web looked for them, and America was too far, but Spade's sire had a home here that was well fortified, secluded, and familiar.

Ian waited outside the airport in the arrivals lane after they collected their bags. He looked at them and his brows rose.

"Where's Denise? And what are you doing with a bloody cat, Charles? Some sort of mascot for our dear Reaper here?"

"Not another word," Spade snapped, getting into the car and seating the carrier on his lap.

"Ian, trust me - don't," Crispin said before he threw their bags into the boot. Then he climbed in the back, seating Nathanial between them. Cat got in front, tapping her fingers on the dashboard.

"Let's go, Ian," she called out impatiently, no doubt still tired even though she'd slept most of the way on the plane.

"I assume someone will tell me what's going on sooner or later," Ian remarked as he slid into the driver's seat. "Until then, it's a bit rude to treat me like a nosy chauffeur, all things considered."

Spade's temper snapped. "You want to know where Denise is?" He held up the carrier so the hissing feline was visible in the rearview mirror. "Here she is! Now drive the car, Ian, or get the fuck out so I can."

Ian drove, not saying anything else all the way to the house.

As soon as the car came to a stop, Spade got out, yanking Nathanial with him. Alten and Fabian had come out to greet them, but he strode by without a word, heading for the bedroom he'd stayed in months ago when he'd been here to help Crispin. Once there, he shut the door and then rounded on Nathanial.

"All right. How do I bring her back?"

The russet-haired man walked around the room, bending low and checking the corners, under the bed, the windows, and even the bathroom. It took all of Spade's control not to start beating him when he didn't answer.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Checking for places where she could sneak out," Nathanial answered. "An open window, a crawl space under the cabinet...you want to spend your night looking for your lost kitty girlfriend inside the walls or on the property?"

Spade clenched his fists but kept his voice calm. "All right. If you're quite finished with that, now what?"

Nathanial, were he smart, would hear the lethal threat behind those two last words and produce speedy results, but he shrugged.

"Get some tuna and a bowl of cream."

Spade had him against the wall dangling by his throat in the next instant. Only the knowledge that he needed Nathanial, if Denise did transform back, kept Spade from killing him on the spot.

"Take care what you choose to say next, because you will pay for it in blood if it's another ill-conceived quip."

"I'm being serious," Nathanial said with emphasis on each word. His hazel gaze was steady. "You've got a terrified woman stuck in an unfamiliar form who's been carted around in a small box for hours. She's hungry. Thirsty. Probably claustrophobic, too, which would explain why she's been hissing and scratching at the cage nonstop. Let her out. Let her eat something, drink something, settle down a little. And then you're going to pet her until she's really relaxed."

That murderous urge was almost overpowering, making a fine tremor run through Spade's body. His fangs pressed against his lips in silent demand to bury into Nathanial's throat and rip.

"All right," Spade said, once his fury died down enough for him to talk. "But if you're putting me on, you'll be the next one in that carrier. In pieces. Alten!"

A few moments later, the door opened. "Yes?"

"Ask the kitchen to send up some tuna fish or chicken, plus a bowl of cream. Right away."

Alten blinked but didn't question the directive. It wasn't five minutes before he was back, reeking tuna on a plate and a saucer filled to the brim with cream. This time, though, Cat and Crispin came with him. They filed in the room silently, shutting the door behind them.

Spade set the containers of tuna and cream on the floor and then opened the door of the carrier.

A blur of fur burst free with a yowl, running around the perimeter of the room in a mad dash before darting under the bed. Spade felt his heart sink at the distinctly feline response. Was there nothing of Denise left in the animal hiding beneath the bed?

"Just wait," Nathanial said.

After a tense couple of minutes, a mahogany-colored head slid out from under the bed. Hissing at the room in general, the cat came out all the way and went straight to the tuna dish, devouring the smelly banquet. Then the kitty lapped at the bowl of cream until its dark sides began to swell.

"Get her now," Nathanial instructed.

Spade snatched up the cat before it could dart back under the bed. Immediately tiny claws scored his hands, but he ignored that, looking at the bundle of fur with a mix of hope and despair. Could Denise really come back from this? She said she'd seen Raum transform into a dog and back without any ill effects, but he was a demon, and she was still - mostly - human.

At least, she used to be.

"Don't let her loose. Get her as comfortable as possible, and start petting her."

Crispin muttered something Spade didn't want to decipher. With a clenched jaw, he settled himself on the bed with the now-growling kitty, holding it in place with one hand and stroking its fur with the other.

Four sets of rapt eyes watched his every move. After a minute, Spade was tense enough to growl along with the cat.

"Give me the room," he said.

Crispin took Nathanial's arm. "Come with me, mate. I'll show you to your accommodations," he said before drawing him away.

Spade almost smiled at that, imagining where Crispin would put him. The rest of them filed out, Cat shutting the door with a pensive last look at them.

The kitty continued to growl in that low, extended manner, punctuated every so often by a hiss and a twist to get free. Spade loosened his grip to where the cat could wiggle, but not escape, still stroking those dark brown ears.

"Denise," he said low. "If you can hear me, I very much need to you come back. Don't resign me to the fate of being one of those crusty old vampires who only live with their pets."

I'm talking to a bloomin' kitty, it occurred to him. He might as well dig a hole and cover himself up with his grave dirt now.

But he didn't stop, because he needed to believe Denise understood what he was saying, even if that wasn't true.

"Come now, darling, I can think of far better ways to spend time in bed with you than this," he continued in a low voice. "You make a right fetching feline, but really, there are limits to the things I'm willing to try."

The cat stopped growling, though its tail kept up its restless twitching. Spade didn't know if that was a positive sign, but he kept talking.

"We have everything we need to move forward, darling, except you. Come back, Denise. We'll return Nathanial to Raum, get those brands off your arms, and continue on with our lives. Do you know the first thing I want to do, when you have your brands off?"

A softer noise began to emanate from the cat. After a second, Spade realized it was purring.

"I'll take you somewhere very posh," he went on. "I can picture the dress you'll wear: black silk, thin straps, deep neckline - and no gloves. You'll have a wonderful dinner, and then we'll dance until you're knackered...but not too knackered, because when we get home, I'm going to make love to you. I'll go slow, taking my time over every inch of your flesh, until your voice turns into that delicious, throaty sound that inflames me. And then, afterward, I'll hold you until you fall asleep..."

A strong current rippled over the kitty's body. Spade quit talking, watching in amazement as the bundle beneath his hands grew. Another rippling shudder, then another, and another. Skin seemed to erupt from the cat's form, stretching, growing, and widening in a cataclysm of limbs, flesh, and bone that happened almost faster than his eyes could track. In the space of a few incredible seconds, a woman's naked body replaced the cat curled across his lap, her hair a dark veil across her face.

Spade didn't move, afraid his slightest gesture would cause her to magically disappear again.

"Denise."

A shaking hand brushed her hair back, and then Denise's lovely hazel gaze met his.

"Spade," she said, her voice scratchy and rough.

Then she jumped off the bed, staggered, and ran into the bathroom.