Page 14 of Thirsty

“I thought you wanted to learn about vampires,” Lorenzo said. “Why should it matter for your thesis where my human life took place?”

“Maybe I’m just interested.”

“Please.” Lorenzo scoffed. “You had no interest in me when we met years ago, and your only agenda now is to further your own...” He squinted, and finished, uncertainly: “...agenda.”

“Look, I—hey, wait,” Charlie said, grabbing Lorenzo by the arm to make him stop. “Listen, I really am sorry about the whole Olivia thing. I shouldn’t have said—whatever it was. I honestly don’t even remember what I told her.”

He did kind of remember what he’d told her, but that wasn’t going to help his cause here. “But clearly, it really hurt you,” he continued. “So—I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

Lorenzo looked away, his jaw tense, but he didn’t argue.

“So...will you tell me where you’re from?” Charlie said, taking a hesitant step toward the parking lot. “I’m actually interested.”

Lorenzo fell into step beside him. After a moment of grudging silence, he said, “Sardinia.”

“Sardinia,” Charlie said, thinking quickly. “In...Greece?”

“Italy!” Lorenzo hissed, then added in a grumble, “More or less.”

“Right. That’s—okay, Sardinia!” Charlie said. “That’s cool. What was that like?”

“It was...” Lorenzo started, and Charlie expected him to say something likefine, ornormal, something clipped and conversation-ending, as he seemed wont to do.

So it caught him a little off guard when Lorenzo’s eyes softened, and his voice gentled, and he said, “It was beautiful.”

Oh, Charlie said, a surprised little exhale. Lorenzo didn’t seem to hear. “But no one really had anything,” he continued. “Most people there were shepherds, and there were always new conquerors coming in, taking what little we had.” He paused. “The sea was lovely, though.”

Charlie’s head felt a little swimmy, perhaps because he was grappling for the first time with the fact that he was speaking with someone who had lived centuries ago, and could speak simply about what that time had been like. “Wow. So, you were a...a shepherd?”

“No,” he said. “My family had livestock, but I wasn’t interested in that.”

“What did you do instead?”

“I set out to enrich our fortunes,” Lorenzo said.

“How?”

“By, uh...” Lorenzo’s voice had gone sheepish. “By taking them from others.”

“You were a thief?” Charlie asked, surprised. He couldn’t really see Lorenzo as a pickpocket or a cat burglar—he was too tall and broad-shouldered, and he didn’t seem particularly stealthy.

“I commanded a small crew,” Lorenzo said. “We would sail to nearby villages and strike fast, taking whatever we could get away with. I was much admired among my men,” he said proudly. “And Italy was in chaos back then, so there was lots of money to be made.”

Charlie blinked, processing this. “So—you were a pirate.”

Lorenzo scowled. “No.”

“Right,” Charlie said, nodding, and then asked, “How were you not a pirate?”

“It wasn’t like all that,” Lorenzo said, waving. “I was a...a businessman. In the...business of raiding and pillaging.”

Charlie was speechless.Thishe could see—Lorenzo on the prow of a ship, cutlass in hand, a sea breeze in his black hair, wearing that billowy shirt–tight pants combo fromThe Witcher. It was...compelling.

He jerked a little when Lorenzo said, sounding irritated, “What?”

“That’s so cool!”

Lorenzo rolled his eyes. Finally, they reached the parking lot, and Lorenzo led him over to a small, dark blue compact car. “Place my things in here.”