He glanced at the guitar in his lap and strummed a chord. The vibration filled the car. My shoulders slumped, and Jenks made a choking gurgle. Takata looked up, his eyes wide in question. “You’ll tell me which one you like better?” he asked, and I nodded. My own personal concert? Yeah, I could go for that. Jenks made that choking gurgle again.

“Okay. It’s called ‘Red Ribbons.’” Taking a breath, Takata slumped. Eyes vacant, he modified the chord he had been playing. His thin fingers shifted elegantly, and with his head bent over his music, he sang.

“Hear you sing through the curtain, see you smile through the glass. Wipe your tears in my thoughts, no amends for the past. Didn’t know it would consume me, no one said the hurt would last.” His voice dropped and took on the tortured sound that had made him famous. “No one told me. No one told me,” he finished, almost whispering.

“Ooooh, nice,” I said, wondering if he really thought I was capable of making a judgment.

He flashed me a smile, throwing off his stage presence that quickly. “Okay,” he said, hunching over his guitar again. “This is the other one.” He played a darker chord, sounding almost wrong. A shudder rippled its way up my spine, and I stifled it. Takata’s posture shifted, becoming fraught with pain. The vibrating strings seemed to echo through me, and I sank back into the leather seats, the humming of the engine carrying the music right to my core.

“You’re mine,” he almost breathed, “in some small fashion. You’re mine, though you know it not. You’re mine, bond born of passion. You’re mine, yet wholly you. By way of your will, by way of your will, by way of your will.”

His eyes were closed, and I didn’t think he remembered I was sitting across from him. “Um …” I stammered, and his blue eyes flashed open, looking almost panicked. “I think the first one?” I offered as he regained his composure. The man was more flighty than a drawer full of geckos. “I like the second better, but the first fits with the vampire watching what she can’t have.” I blinked. “What he can’t have,” I amended, flushing.

God help me, I must look like a fool. He probably knew I roomed with a vampire. That she and I weren’t sharing blood probably hadn’t made it into his report. The scar on my neck wasn’t from her but from Big Al, and I tugged my scarf up to hide it.

He looked almost shaky as he put his guitar aside. “The first?” he questioned, seeming to want to say something else, and I nodded. “Okay,” he said, forcing a smile. “The first it is.”

There was another choked gurgle from Jenks. I wondered if he would recover enough to make more than that ugly sound.

Takata snapped the latches on his instrument case, and I knew the chitchat was over. “Ms. Morgan,” he said, the rich confines of the limo seeming sterile now that it was empty of his music. “I wish I could say I looked you up for your opinion on which chorus I should release, but I find myself in a tight spot, and you were recommended to me by a trusted associate. Mr. Felps said he has worked with you before and that you had the utmost discretion.”