Page 87 of So Thirsty

My body knows a threat.

I walk faster, slipping as I approach the bridge over the pond. There’s a heart-shaped arch over the entrance with a sign that reads THE KISSING BRIDGE.

“Don’t you dare follow me onto this bridge,” I say. The smell of tobacco and bergamot identifies the presence. It’s Henry. “I don’t want to be followed. Stop following me.”

If I say it enough, maybe I’ll convince myself that it’s true. That I’m not flattered by the chase.

I forgot how good it feels to be wanted.

But I don’t deserve to feel good. And neither does he.

“Your friend asked me to check on you,” he says, appearing first as a floating ember. Out of the inky darkness, he materializes on the chessboard, moving across it like a rook. “She’s concerned.”

“She needs to get her priorities straight,” I say, stepping backward onto the bridge. I realize I’m now directly under the heart arch and take another step.

“I warned you it was too soon to be out in the world. I warned you she was reckless.”

“This isn’t my fault. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Mm,” he says, pissing me off.

“Why did you let us go? If you were just going to hunt us down.”

“ ‘Hunt’? That’s a strong word.”

“Is it?”

“What would you have done if we hadn’t shown up?”

“I…we wouldn’t have been there. We left the motel because you were parked outside like creeps.”

“Creeps?”

“Yeah.”

“We gave you a gift.”

“This isn’t a gift.”

“I meant the blood. Not the thirst.”

“Okay.”

“If we didn’t turn you, Naomi would have died.”

“If you’d told me about the man in the basement the first time I asked, we would have left, and Naomi would have been fine, and I would have been fine, and we wouldn’t be here right now, and those people would still be alive.”

“Speculating about alternate fates is a waste of time,” Henry says, reaching a corner of the board.

“I’m painfully aware of that. You don’t need to tell me.”

“Then why resist?”

“Resist what? You?”

“Your thirst.”

“Because it’s savage—that’s why. It’s wrong.”