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WITCHES CAN BE SO TETCHY when you wake them in the middle of the night. My lawyer and techno-witch, Zelda Galangal, particularly. She walks into my office, as put together as always, but with some bags under her eyes.

“Alright, Julian,” she snaps, pushing up her horn-rimmed glasses, “this had better be good. You know I don’t get up before noon.”

I gesture to a seat next to Andi. She looks tired and worn, and my new protective instincts, the ones that need to please her, hate it. She needs sleep and a better meal than that slop she had in the cell. But this must happen first.

Zelda takes her chair, pulls a laptop out of her briefcase, opens it, and puts it on the edge of my desk. “Alright, what’s this all about?”

“First,” I say, taking my seat behind my desk, “I must have your word as a witch that nothing we talk about will leave my office. Not even to others at your practice.”

Zelda’s eyebrows go up. I have never asked this of her in all our dealings together, and our professional relationship has been long. Though she appears in her thirties, we actually began business in the 1960’s. She’s been keeping herself young with magic and trades aliases when necessary. I trust her as much as I trust Gaspard, which is as much as I can trust anyone.

“Okay . . .” she drawls, leaning back in her chair. “You have my word.”

“Not good enough,” I tell her, smiling at her ploy. “I want your word as a witch.”

She sighs and pushes up her glasses again. “Fine. My word under the watchful eye of the Mother Goddess and the burning gaze of the Father God, that I will reveal nothing that you tell me to any other living soul that is outside this room.” A haze of magic enters the room as she speaks, like heavy humidity, before settling on her last word.

Zelda quirks a brow. “Good enough?”

I nod and then take my own chair. A witch’s word is binding. She will not be able to tell anyone about Andi, even under torture. I don’t think it will come to that, but with Colton involved, better safe than sorry.

Zelda gets back to her laptop, clicking some keys. “So what’s this about anyway?” she asks, glancing up at me over the screen.

“I fed on Andi tonight,” I tell her.

“Congratulations,” she says dryly. “I figured that’s why we drew up that exclusivity contract.”

I ignore her sarcasm. That’s just how Zelda is. “When I fed from her, I made the discovery that Andi isn’t human.”

Zelda stops typing, glancing over her glasses at Andi in her chair. “What is she?”

“I’m in the room with you,” sighs Andi, her tone resigned but annoyed.

I ignore her as well. “She’s a siren,” I tell Zelda, watching as her brows shoot up.

“And you fed from her? So you’re . . .”

“Siren-bound, yes.”

“This is bad. Can’t you just kill her?” Zelda asks, ever pragmatic.

“Again,” Andi says, “I’m right here.”

“There seem to be safeguards in place that make that impossible,” I recount to Zelda. “Certain strong feelings that have not gone away, even after the blood should have left my system. I am protective of her, and I am certain that her death would have a negative effect on me.”

“Lucky me,” mutters Andi in her seat. She’s getting a little more sassy and I think that the lack of sleep probably has something to do with it. Her filter is lowering, but rather than feel affronted by her lack of respect, I am amused by it.

Zelda shakes her head. “Then what are you going to do? This will make you vulnerable. When other leaders in the Other World realize you have weakness . . .”

“It’s not all bad news,” I break into her dire warning. “I am stronger and faster than before, with higher senses. More than even an ancient vampire usually has. I think I probably have more fortitude, though I haven’t tested it. I’m certain I could survive an assassination attempt and protect Andi from anything of the sort. The biggest issue is that I must be protected from Andi. So we need a new contract.”

Zelda nods. “Right. One where she can’t give you orders or force you to work against your self-interest?”

The techno-witch was always fast. “Precisely. And a new exclusivity contract, without a limit, where only I can feed from her. We don’t want her to go around raising an army.”

“No.” The word comes clearly from Andi’s lips. Zelda and I both turn in our chairs to stare at her. She shrinks a little under our gazes but holds our eyes, stubbornness in her bearing.