Page 35 of Thirsty
Kenny looked as if he was about to launch into another question about Charlie’s dad, so he jumped in. “Speaking of family—what about your children? You all must have younger werewolf relatives here in town, right?”
“Yes, we do,” Kenny said.
“Do you stay in touch with them?” he asked. “Are you, uh—affiliated? Is that the right word?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Kenny said. “We still have our pack ties, but there are multiple different packs represented here in our group. It’s just—not something that matters to us as much anymore.”
“Hm,” Charlie said. “And is that how you met Lorenzo?”
Lorenzo jerked a little, as if startled to be mentioned, but Kenny beamed at the question. “Yes, Lorenzo! He was a great help to us back in—what was it, ’92? That was a bad year between the packs, there was lots of tension. It’s always good to have a vampire around to sort us hotheads out.”
“Yes, well,” Lorenzo mumbled, looking embarrassed.
“’92, huh?” Charlie said, as Lorenzo glared at him. “What was he like back then?”
“Oh, wonderful!” Kenny said. “So helpful and polite. Just as handsome then as he is now—he hasn’t withered away like the rest of us. But y’know, if I recall correctly, back then, he had that great ’90s hair—the swoopy bangs and all,” he said, pantomiming with his fingers draped over his forehead.
Lorenzo rolled his eyes as Charlie put a hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle. “Wow. ’90s hair, ’70s hair...there’s so much to unpack with you,” he murmured.
Lorenzo shot him a look, but it did nothing to quell Charlie’s curiosity. If anything, the dark, quiet humor in Lorenzo’s eyes made Charlie feel like they were alone in the woods, with nothing but the crackle of the fire to interrupt them. “Do you have daguerreotypes of yourself? Wearing 1800s clothes?” he teased. “I’d love to see those.”
“No,” Lorenzo said flatly, but there was a reluctant, amused slant to his scowl.
“Hmm,” Charlie said. “I bet you’re one of the founders of Brookville. Actually.” He frowned a little, realizing something. “Howdidyou find yourself in rural Virginia? It’s a long way from Italy.”
This time it was Lorenzo who stared at the fire, letting the slow disappearance of all good humor from his face be Charlie’s answer. The fire crackled, and thankfully they weren’t alone in the woods—one of the elderly wolves got distracted wanting to tell stories of their own youth in B’ville, and soon enough the slight pause was forgotten by everyone.
Almost everyone.
By around 2:30 a.m. they decided to call it a night, when Charlie was starting to flag and the werewolves looked ready to pack it in. He’d known Lorenzo would be wide awake, but he was a little surprised to be getting tired faster than the elderly wolves. “Don’t you know? You need less sleep as you get older,” Kenny told him. “Plus, we like to nap during the day.”
Charlie laughed in Lorenzo’s car, thinking of the group of elderly wolves napping in a sunny clearing in the middle of the afternoon. “What?” Lorenzo asked.
“I loved them,” Charlie said. “I want to go visit them once a week.”
“Ugh,” Lorenzo said, though his annoyance seemed tinged with amusement.
“You know, you really were the perfect person for me to run into for my project,” Charlie told him. “You’ve worked all these odd jobs for other supernatural creatures, so you know everyone.”
The smile he thought he’d seen vanished from Lorenzo’s face. Somehow, he’d hit a sore spot again. He was starting tothink that Lorenzo had a lot of those. It’d probably be best to let the rest of the drive pass in silence.
But this wasn’t the Lorenzo he’d known five years ago. He wasn’t trying to get out of some awkward small talk at a party—he was actually interested in why Lorenzo might be upset. Trying to sound casual, Charlie said, “I’m surprised you have to do these sorts of jobs for cash. I thought vampires were all, y’know.”
“Rich?” Lorenzo asked.
“I—I dunno,” Charlie said. “Isn’t there a thing with like...compound interest?”
“You should stop making assumptions like that.”
“You’re right,” Charlie said after a moment. “I’m sorry. I really am learning a lot from you.”
Lorenzo seemed mollified by that. “So,” Charlie said, “Do you do these jobs for the cash, or is it something else?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “A sense of community?”
“Community?” Lorenzo asked, as his face darkened.
