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A Song in Her Blood, Part One

Page 40

by Jordyn Alexander

“What do you mean, 'no?’” asks Zelda. “You want to be able to raise an army of enthralled?”

“Of course not!” bursts out Andi. “That would be insane! No to the limitless contract.”

The siren turns to me, a certain mulishness in her expression. “You said we’d reconsider after a century. I want a limit. A century. That seems long enough. I won’t be your blood slave forever.”

I want to growl at the woman in front of me, even as I feel a certain admiration for her standing up for herself. She still doesn’t understand who the slave is here. How, if she pushed enough, I might even let go of this idea of a second contract. I let her out of the cell sooner than I thought I would. I have no willpower where she is involved. Best to give her what she wants before she realizes that she can ask for more.

“Fine,” I bite out. “A century. But we will revisit the contract before the century is up, ma serpente. If you are still as you are now and I can trust you, perhaps we will not need another one. But if you get a taste for power in that time, I will not let you go.”

“I won’t,” she says confidently. “I’ve never wanted power. Just to live a simple life where I can support myself through singing. That’s all I’ll ever want.”

So she says now. A lot can change in one hundred years, but I keep that thought to myself.

Zelda nods again. “Alright, if you two are done bargaining, I’ll pull together the contract.” Her eyes begin to glow purple behind her glasses, and her fingers start typing at a furious pace, glowing as well. When she finishes, she reaches out and into her laptop screen, as if through a portal. When she draws her hand back out, she’s holding a thick sheaf of papers, stapled in the corner, and colored tabs sticking out the sides. Andi’s eyes widen at the display. I think she’s not seen a lot of magic yet and certainly not techno-witchery. It is a sight to behold.

“There,” Zelda says, the glow in her eyes fading. “The contract. Sign at each of the red tabs, and she’ll sign at the blue. Then it’ll be official.”

We sign in silence, then pass it back to Zelda. She flips through the papers before reaching out and pushing them back into her laptop screen. When she finishes, I ask, “Out of curiosity, what would a witches’ coven want with siren blood?”

Zelda looks up sharply. “That is far too specific a question to be out of curiosity. What coven is after her blood?”

“The Circle of Nightshade.”

Zelda swears. “Oh, you fucker, that’s why you wanted my word? The Circle is after her?”

“I can't be certain, but she was dating Colton Haynes for a time, and he wanted her blood while they were together. She wouldn’t give it to him, and he has been stalking her since she left him. I suspect that he has his suspicions and that’s one of the reasons behind his obsession.”

Zelda flicks her eyes over to Andi. “You certainly have a talent for pissing off powerful men.”

Andi snorts at that. “Talented? Cursed is more like.”

Zelda’s observation makes me think. Sirens are known for being attracted to people in power. It’s how they build their armies. Is it purposeful? Andi doesn’t seem like the type to go for those in power on purpose. I think of how sweetly shy she was when I stole a kiss. She wasn’t trying to seduce me; it was the other way around. She even said she wasn't ready for more. But I was drawn to her before I even tasted her blood. Is that how it is, I wonder? Are the powerful attracted to the sirens? Is it simply a siren’s fate to fall in the orbit of the powerful and then the powerful fall at their feet? It seems more likely, at least in Andi’s case.

The techno-witch turns back to me. “To answer your question, the most powerful magic in the world can be brewed from a siren’s blood. It makes magic work even on vampires, who are usually immune to such things. If the Circle is involved, I would bet my practice that they are planning something big and that it involves destroying you.”

I thought as much. I’ve let the Circle buzz around as an annoyance long enough. If they are planning to use Andi to take me down, they are too late, but it still means that they tried. Time to put an end to the annoyance.

“Thank you, Zelda, you’ve been most helpful,” I tell her. She stands, sliding her laptop back into her briefcase.

“I’m always helpful,” she quips. “That’s why you keep me around.”

It’s true. It’s why I keep anyone around, because of what they can do for me. Except . . . Andi. It’s always been more about what I can do for her.

“I’m going to bed now,” Zelda announces to no one in particular. “Let's not make a habit of these nighttime meetings.”

“You need new clients, then,” mutters Andi.

I laugh. I can’t help it. She’s so adorably surly, like a grumbling, protesting kitten.

Zelda looks surprised. “I don’t remember you ever laughing,” she observes. “Be careful not to show how much her blood is changing you, or it’ll be obvious where your soft spot is.”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond to her warning and walks out of the room, my office door slamming behind her.

Hmm. She’s not wrong. I have been changing. But this was before I ever fed from Andi. She’s been waking me up from the humdrum rituals of my life, teasing surprising reactions out of me. It’s a disturbing thought that others might be able to notice as well.

Andi gets up from her chair and stretches. She’s still in her summer dress, and when she reaches up her hands, I see a glimpse of her lace-covered breasts pushing up in the air. My cock hardens embarrassingly, but I’m sitting, so it’s easily disguised.

“I want to go home,” she says simply. “Can someone take me?”