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I am rewarded with a shy smile. It takes over her entire face, rising like the full moon over the horizon. It renders her face lovely in a way I wouldn't have imagined possible when I first saw her, scared and downtrodden. I have the sudden urge to spirit her away from New Orleans. To take her far from Colton’s obsessive stalking, somewhere she can relax completely. Perhaps my private island in the Mediterranean. We can go for nightly swims in the clear, blue water and stargaze. Then I’ll spread her naked on my sheets and drink her blood. I’ll have to hire a chef to cook human meals. My villa has a kitchen, though it has been largely unused. Fanciful thoughts, but the idea has merit.

Aloud, I continue. “I own an art gallery downtown, Beauceant. There’s a show going on there now that I could take you to. A talented new artist on the rise. I think you would like it.”

Her brows fly up her forehead. “You own Beauceant?”

“You know it?”

“I went to an opening with, well, Colton,” she tells me. “He said that he needed to rub elbows with some important people, which I guess was with you, but I don't remember you being there. It was beautiful, and the art was divine. The fanciest place I’d ever been.”

She cocks her head curiously. “Sacrilege was beautiful, too. You say I have an artistic soul, but I think you do, too.”

I smile, feeling a little flattered but mostly jaded. “I am, what would have been called in my time, a patron. I have no talent myself, but I have an eye for beautiful things, and I like to surround myself with them.”

“An eye for art still takes an artistic sensibility,” she argues stubbornly.

I nod once, conceding the point. “Very well, ma souris. It is as you say.”

The car pulls to a stop, and I see that we have arrived at La Couronne Bleu. It looks different from how I remember it, but then, I haven’t been here since the 1920s. The facade looks faded, and there are more cracks in it and peeling paint than there were when it was new. It’s impressive that it’s survived this long as a jazz supper club. Most of those have gone away, only this one remaining, a relic of the past. Oh, there are jazz clubs, of course, but none as old and storied or as large. The edges of the theater are all lined with vintage neon, and I’m sure it looks more impressive at night. Right now, it looks like a decaying building that has seen better days and is in dire need of a facelift.

“We’re here,” Andi says, unnecessarily, going to climb over me.

“Not so fast, ma souris,” I interrupt, moving in front of her. “The bodyguard always goes first to check for danger. Besides, we have one last piece of business, you and I, before we enter the theater.”

“What is that?” she queries.

I pull out a leather folder and open it. A stack of papers with small, tight print on them is inside. There are colored tabs all down the edges of the stack. Our exclusivity contract, hot off the keyboard of my lawyer.

“Oh,” Andi says, “right. We never finished signing our contract.”

“Sign it at each tab,” I say, passing it over, “and take your life back.”

She looks at me suspiciously over the folder, but I just grin wolfishly back at her.

“Need a pen?”

Chapter 10

Andi

Take your life back, he says, but I get the feeling that I'm making a deal with the devil. And the deal is too good. The things he says are too right. It makes me not trust them, even as I desperately want them to be true. I want my life back. I want to sing without a care in the world. I want to go to fancy art galleries and have fun on my days off. It’s almost like he’s looked into my deepest desires and pulled them out, and I'm not sure if it's safe for him to have that much knowledge about my inner world.

“Is this one of those magic contracts?” I ask.

One of his perfect brows quirks. “Been researching the Other World, ma souris?”

“I have my sources,” I hedge. I’m sure that he already knows about Jade, since it’s that connection that brought us together in the first place, but I won't be throwing her under the bus.

“It is magic,” he admits casually, like there’s no need for alarm. “A simple charm, I assure you. In the event that you break the contract, my lawyer is informed, so that steps can be taken.”

“What steps?” I ask, kind of not wanting to know the answer.

His eyes seem to flash for a moment in the dim car interior, a hint of red in their depths. “I already told you that I will not share your blood with anyone. If you break the contract, what happens next is on your head.”

“Will you hurt me?” I ask.

“I will hurt the vampire you feed. You, I may just give to Colton.”

My blood runs cold. Not that I’m planning to go around just feeding vampires left and right, but that he would use Colton against me if I displease him . . .