Page 67 of Thirst

Amari takes a moment to answer like he's allowing me enough time to prepare. It’s a good strategy because it works.

“Yes. A lot when I was a newborn, but that was back in the day when it was easy to get away with. Nowadays, I have to be a lot more careful, so I try to minimize it because it draws attention, which is the only reason Stanley is still among the living.”

“When was the last time, and why?”

“Two years ago. A racist tried to test me at one of the roulette tables in my casino. I guess he felt emboldened by the election results. He didn't talk as bravely once we were alone in his apartment, though.”

The lack of concern on his face is telling, and it sends a chill through me. It’s obvious that Amari doesn't avoid killing out of care for humankind. He avoids it because he doesn't want the attention it brings. It’s a fact I have to swallow, and it is bitter so I have to move past it quickly.

“What about the story you told regarding the casino?” I inquire since he mentioned it. “Did you really get it from a friend of your family? I can't see how that could be true if you were born in the eighteen hundreds. I doubt Black Coins was even around back then.”

Amari smirks and nods. “That story is just my cover. My father really was killed by a police officer, but it was in 1890, and he wasn't shot during a traffic stop. He was accused of stealing, arrested, and lynched. My mother really died from her grief five years later in 1895. I was turned five years after she passed.”

“And what really happened to the officer who killed your father?”

“I happened. A few months after I was turned. The thirst made me rabid, but I would’ve killed him anyway. His wife was collateral damage to the thirst. As for the casino, it really was given to me by a man on his deathbed, but it wasn't because he was fond of me. He was a sore loser who didn't like that I'd won a bet. He tried to renege on our wager and had me thrown out of the casino he owned. When I came back that night, it was for more than the money he owed.”

“Jesus. Is that how you made your fortune? By taking it from people?”

“That’s how most people make their fortunes in a capitalist country—by taking. Some take with violence, some take with cold-hearted business moves. I had a long time to learn how to do both.”

I sit next to him shrouded in awe. He has answered all of the questions that were bouncing around in my head, and now I don't even know what to do with the information. I'm overwhelmed and still afraid. My world is forever changed, and I don't know how I'm supposed to wake up tomorrow and get dressed for work as if my mind isn't going to be bogged down. I keep repeating the same motion of shaking my head, because it’s all I have. No other movement feels right.

“What else do you wanna know?” Amari asks, but I'm overloaded now.

“I don't know. What else do you think I should know?”

“Nothing else really matters,” he says. “The most important thing from this conversation is that I feel something very deep for you, Aaliyah. You have no reason to fear me whatsoever. If anything, you should fear that I’d hurt someone else to protect you. But I would never hurt you.”

“Because I'm your Companion,” I say as a statement, not a question.

“Yes,” he says. “I want nothing more than for us to be together, and to see you succeed exactly how you deserve to. I wanna protect you, and give you all the resources you need to do whatever you want in this life. I wanna watch you blossom into your best self and be happier than anybody else. I want you out of that strip club and standing in the center of your own exhibits, surrounded by people who see the beauty in you and your art. I know you want that, too.”

“Because you read my mind?”

“Well, yeah actually.”

I scoff. “That’s where you keep getting it twisted, Amari. Yeah, I've liked you from the jump, but all this stuff about Influencing and reading my mind has me questioning things. I enjoyed our time together … but did I really? I can't trust anything now, and all of this scares me. You have to understand that.”

He nods. “I do. I know it’s a lot to take in, and I'm not trying to put pressure on you. I just wanted you to be informed so that you wouldn't be scared.”

“Well I still am, because I'm twenty-five years old and I just learned that the man I've been interested in isn't actually thirty. He's a hundred and fifty-six, and he's killed people as recently as two years ago. You can't expect me to absorb all of this in one night. So, I just need time. Okay? I need time to think and figure all of this out. I need time to accept it as the truth, because I'm gonna be looking at everybody differently now, wondering if they're vampires. It’s horrifying, and I know you said you wanna protect me, but … I just need time. Do you understand that?”

“I understand,” he says. “I want you to take all the time you need. It doesn't even matter how long you take, because now that I know who you are to me, I’ll always be here. Waiting for you. So take all the space you need, and when you wanna talk to me, all you have to do is text or call. No matter what I'm doing, I’ll drop it for you.”

With that, Amari stands up and walks toward the door. Part of me wants to stop him, but the bigger part needs him to go. My mind is reeling, and another second in his presence might push me into insanity. So when he stops at the door to look back at me, I don't say anything. I don't even look at him just in case he tries to use it to read my mind. I don't look at the door again until I hear it close behind him.

Once I'm alone, all of my emotions ignite like bombs going off simultaneously. I feel it all hit me and I lose control. I fall back onto the couch, cover my face with both hands, and bawl like a baby.

AMARI

Forty

The elevator chimes and I don't move. The thought never even crosses my mind. Why should I lift a finger? I know who it is, and I can guess what he’ll say. There's no point in acting as though I have a reason to pull myself out of this chair for anything other than a drink refill. So when I hear feet shuffling down the hallway, doing their usual searching procedure of going to one end of the hall before turning around, I don't flinch. I keep my hands in the pockets of my black robe, and my eyes aimed at the wall while looking at nothing in particular. Shawn’s head eventually pops into my peripheral vision in the middle of my doorframe, but I still don't move.

He lets out a loud exhale before speaking. “Hey. Still just hanging out in your room, huh? I don't know if you've noticed because you’ve barely slept, but it has been four days since everything went down at the exhibit. You only move to blackout the room and shut the door, and then to open it again once the sun goes down. You look like you could use a long nap yourself, bruh. Or maybe some blood. I'm starting to worry.”

“Worry for what?” I ask in a groan. “You think I’ll wither away and die if I just sit here? I'm a vampire. I may get weak and pale, and maybe my skin will wrinkle, but I won’t die.”