Page 26 of Box of Frogs
I followed her. ‘Julie, this is serious.’
‘Yes, darling, and no one understands that better than I do. But please – it’s been a long day and I need a drink.’ She opened up a cabinet and took out two glasses, waving them in my direction. ‘Ice and a slice?’
I crossed my arms. ‘You’re paying me to protect you. Alcohol is not a good idea.’
‘Mads, alcohol isalwaysa good idea. Especially when the scriptwriters change their minds at the last minute and I’m forced to re-learn all my lines.’ She tutted before locating a large bottle of gin and pouring triple measures into both glasses. She arched a glance at me. ‘You don’t mind if I call you Mads? It seems to fit, to be honest, darling.’ She retrieved some ice from the freezer before topping up both drinks with a tiny amount of tonic. When she was done she held out one glass to me while taking a gulp from the other one. She smacked her lips. ‘Bliss.’
‘You may call me whatever you wish,’ I said, reluctantly taking the drink. I took a tiny sip of it, half-choked and hastily put it down on the table top. ‘Can we talk seriously about your situation?’
Julie waved a hand. ‘Of course, of course.’ She kicked off her high heels and sauntered through to the living room. I followed, watching as she settled in a large armchair and tucked her feet up underneath her. When I didn’t immediately sit as well, she flung out an arm in the direction of another chair.
‘Before we go any further,’ Julie said, ‘I need you to sign a sort of … non-disclosure agreement.’
There was something about her voice that instantly put me on guard. ‘Sort ofnon-disclosure agreement?’
She inclined her head. ‘Indeed.’ She leaned to her side, lifted up a small wooden chest from the floor and rummaged inside before bringing out a piece of paper. ‘Here it is.’
I took it from her. Whatever I might have imagined a typical NDA looked like, it wasn’t like this. There was only one line of writing on it: ‘I will not reveal the true nature of Julie Chivers, whether by implication, deed or disclosure.’ That was it. There was nothing else.
I stared at it, befuddled. I flipped the sheet of paper over but there was nothing on the other side. I looked at Julie, who was watching me very closely, and then shrugged. ‘Seems straightforward enough.’ Understatement of the century. She’d certainly piqued my curiosity about her ‘true nature’ though.
‘Do you have a pen?’ I asked.
Julie didn’t move a muscle. ‘This isn’t that sort of contract.’ She delved into her box of tricks yet again. This time, however, she pulled out a needle. Judging by its gleaming tip, it was very sharp.
I recoiled in my chair. ‘Wait just a goddarned minute,’ I said. Maybe I’d gotten ol’ Julie Chivers wrong from the start.
‘Relax.’ She held the needle up. ‘What? You think I could hurt you with this? Darling, don’t be ridiculous.’
Given that my arm was aching constantly from a barely visible nick to my finger, I wasn’t about to take anything for granted. ‘Maybe you should explain,’ I said, without taking my eyes off of her.
Only the faintest tremble to her hands betrayed her nervousness. Somehow I liked her better knowing that she wasn’t as confident as she appeared. ‘All this does,’ she said, ‘is prick your finger. It will draw only the tiniest amount of blood, which you then use to agree to the contract.’
I schooled my face into a deadpan mask. ‘You want me to sign in blood. It sounds like something the devil might request.’
Julie was no longer smiling. ‘I can assure you that I’m not the devil. Your blood simply offers me greater … certainty … than a mere signature can do.’
‘Did Mark do this? Did he sign in blood?’
She inclined her head. ‘He did. As did the others before him.’ She sighed. ‘I would explain further, Mads, but until you sign the contract I’m unable to do so.’
More unwilling rather than unable, I thought. Even so, Julie was interesting me more than enough for me to agree – but there was no way I would let a strange needle pierce my skin. I was keen to find out more but I wasn’t going to compromise my own safety, not when the ache in my arm was testament to just how dangerous a small cut could be.
Casting my eyes downwards and using my unwounded hand, I ran my index along the edge of the contract. I hissed at the brief flare of pain as the paper did as I’d intended then I pressed the small bead of blood underneath the writing.
‘You’re even more cautious than I appreciated,’ Julie commented. ‘That’s good.’
No, I was capable of learning from my mistakes. I didn’t have the chance to tell her that, however, because my attention was wholly caught by the contract. There was an odd smell of burning coming from it and, from the point where I’d smeared my blood, a single wisp of white smoke appeared. I gaped and threw the contract onto the floor just as the bloody blot vanished and my own name appeared.
‘That’s…’ I stared. ‘That’s…’
‘A crude magic of sorts,’ Julie provided helpfully.
I flung wary eyes in her direction. She simply looked relieved that I’d ‘signed’ on the dotted line, so to speak.
‘What are you?’ I breathed. She didn’t have green eyes so she couldn’t be Fey like me. Or so I supposed.
‘Have some of that gin,’ she advised. ‘You’re going to need it.’
