Page 30 of Thirsty
“I’m fine,” Lorenzo said levelly.
Why oh why had he told Charlie that he was a creature of his word? Luring Charlie in with his false promises at first had been no great sin, but to outright refuse to help him now, when they’d made a deal? One that had been struck after spending more time with Charlie, getting reacquainted with him, even letting him meet his friends?
No, he couldn’t deny him. He’d lost their bet. There was no sense in losing his honor too.
He was stuck with Charlie—for now, at least.
He’d just have to ignore how tempting he smelled.
“Alright,” Charlie said. “So, druids! I’m excited.”
“Really?” Lorenzo asked. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t even know there was a kind of supernatural creature called druids before last night? And now I’m about to meet some?” He grinned triumphantly. “Good thing I won our bet.”
Lorenzo clenched his jaw and said nothing. “So, how do you know these druids?” Charlie asked.
“I’ve worked with them in the past.”
“Like when you were security for the werewolves?”
“Yes,” Lorenzo said. “Like that.”
“Hm. Well, until we get there,” Charlie said, getting out his phone to take notes, “I still have a lot of questions for you about vampires.”
“Ugh,” Lorenzo said.
“Where to start,” Charlie said, tapping a finger against his lips. “Oh—is any of that religious stuff true? Like, do crosses and holy water burn you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I don’t go around touching crosses,” Lorenzo said.
“Fair enough,” Charlie said. “But as far as you know...?”
Lorenzo shook his head. “Okay,” Charlie said, tapping on his phone. “And, clearly the mirror thing is fake.”
“Yes,” Lorenzo said, glancing in the rearview.
“But you can’t go out in daylight?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, that’s true.”
“What happens if you do?”
Lorenzo raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ve never tried it.”
“So you just don’t know?”
Lorenzo sighed. “It is said we burst into flame. Or disintegrate into ash. Possibly both.”
“That...sucks,” Charlie said, sounding surprisingly upset. Lorenzo glanced at him. “I mean, you said you grew up by the ocean. You must...miss the sun.”
Lorenzo gripped the steering wheel, feeling a phantom warmth on his arms, the grit of hot, wet sand between his fingers. He hadn’t lost just one thing when he’d lost the sun: he’d lost long summer afternoons and colors you could only find in a sunset, the special laziness that comes from loafing around first thing in the morning, the look of joy on a loved one’s face as they squint up into a burst of starlight after a long winter.
“Sometimes,” he said quietly.
