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“No,” I say, before I can convince myself it’s a bad idea.

“No?” he quirks his brow. “No, to what?”

“I’m not planning to betray our contract,” I tell him, “but if I sign this, I don’t want you even thinking of giving me to Colton. Not as a threat, not as a punishment, nothing. What if there’s a misunderstanding? You wouldn’t be able to take it back.”

“I don’t do misunderstandings, ma souris. And magic can’t be fooled.”

“Can’t it?” I challenge again. “Nothing in this world is perfect. Even DNA evidence can be fabricated. If science can be fooled, I would think magic can have its weaknesses, too.”

His lips turn upwards into a tiny smile, like he thinks my arguments are funny. “Alright,” he says, not arguing with me any further. “I can see that I have upset you. What do you propose, then?”

“I want you to add an addendum of what will actually happen, in detail, to me if I don’t follow your contract. I want to know exactly what the cost would be.”

“This would all be easier,” he says, “if you just didn’t break the contract.”

“What if I’m attacked?” I ask. “What if someone forces me to share my blood?”

“Then that vampire would be dead,” he returns calmly, though he looks dangerous as he says it.

“What if, by the time you get there, it’s a he-said, she-said situation? I would tell you it was forced, but the vampire could say that it’s consensual. Who would you believe? Would the magic know?”

He goes considering. “I suppose the magic may not have the ability to detect the intricacies of consent. Only the feeding. I suppose you would be right in that case, ma souris. But it is a moot point. As long as I am with you, no one will be forcing you to share blood. They would try at their peril.”

“As long as you are with me,” I point out. “But you can't be with me every hour of every day. You need to sleep sometime. Don’t you?” I suppose I don’t know if vampires really need to sleep.

“Only once a week.”

That’s interesting information. “Still, my point stands. What if something happens to me during the once-a-week sleep? How would you know? And would you give me over to Colton, based on that alone? What would happen when you found out you were wrong?”

He looks curious. “What do you think is fair punishment, then?”

“A fine of some sort,” I say readily. “You don’t need more money, I know, but a steep fine would be painful to me. Or an extension of the contract. If you tire of me before the contract is up, then you can transfer it to someone else of your choosing.”

Julian's look turns amused. “You would have me be quite merciful, ma souris. I am not known for being a merciful man.”

“Well,” I retort before I can lose my nerve, “I’m certainly not going to sign a contract that says that if you suspect me of breaking the contract, you can give me to my abuser. That would be insane.”

He snorts, then pulls out his phone. Putting it to his ear, he says, “It’s me. I need some changes to the contract.”

I relax in my seat at his words. He outlines my proposed amendment to whoever is on the other end of the call, and in a moment, the pages all start to glow with a purple light. I yelp, but don’t drop the folder, watching in shock as the words and tabs all start to move around. When they finally are still again, and the pages stop glowing, I cautiously flip to the back of the contract, seeing the new addendum.

“Thank you, Zelda. A great help as always,” Julian concludes, before hanging up his call. He then looks at me.

“If that’s to your satisfaction, I suggest you sign. Your rehearsal begins in five minutes.”

I curse. How could I forget about rehearsal? I frantically search for a pen in my purse, and he smoothly hands me one. It’s heavy, a polished gunmetal, with filigree accents. This is the kind of pen that costs a paycheck, I’m sure, but he hands it to me like it's nothing. I hurriedly sign at all the tabs, then snap the folder closed and push the pen and contract back at Julian.

“Alright, it’s official, let’s go.”

He smiles, the cat that got the canary, before sliding the contract under the seat. Julian exits the car and turns like an old-fashioned gentleman, hand out to help me out of the car like it’s a carriage or something. Something makes my cheeks heat at the gesture, but I take his hand and let him help me out of the car. He glances back and forth and shrugs.

“It’s safe. Let’s get you to rehearsal.”

∆∆∆

REHEARSAL IS GREAT. JULIAN STAYS in the shadows, sitting at one of the tables in the audience as we run through the show. Something about having him there really does set me at ease. I’m not looking into every corner and shadow, waiting for Colton to pop out and try to drag me away. In a perverse way, having a scary monster watch over me makes me feel safe.

It’s the band’s and my turn to rehearse when my understudy, Jasmine, comes over, looking pleased.