Page 21 of Thirst

I nod. “I know. Okay.”

Nae’s eyes linger on me, and I see true concern there before she closes the door, leaving her words to resonate in her absence.

AMARI

Thirteen

When Shawn comes around the corner, he finds me standing with a poolstick in hand. I walk around the red velvet table, assessing the balls in front of me like an army general strategizing the best way to strike. I push the end of the stick into the blue cube of chalk and color the tip, then lean over the table to shoot.

“Playing pool,” he says as he comes in and goes to the bar. “That means you're deep in thought and trying to work it out. What’s on your mind, old man? Still thinking about the stripper?”

I hit the cue and sink a stripe. “Her name’s Aaliyah.”

Shawn chuckles. “Right. My bad. Aaliyah the stripper.”

“Don't make me slap the shit outta you.”

“Whoo, feisty. Alright, alright. Seriously. What’s up?”

I sink another stripe and move to the other side of the table, glaring at him as I go. “I've been doing some thinking. I've seen Aaliyah at that club twice now, and still don't feel like I've come up with any more answers just from talking to her.”

“Okay, then maybe that’s all the answer you need. You never said you'd have to spend a minimum of three days with a person before you realized they were your Companion.”

“I told you I don't know how it works. Any answer I give is a guess.”

“Oh my god. Thank you so much for not turning me when I was begging for it, because being a vampire sounds too damn confusing. I thought this would be decided after you saw her a second time.”

“So did I,” I say, eyeing the table again. “But I came up with a plan to figure it out.”

“Oh yeah? Alright, let’s hear it.”

Because I know what I'm about to say, and I know how Shawn will likely react to it, I put my poolstick flat on the table and lean against the edge.

“Don't trip,” I say, maintaining eye contact.

“Oh god. What?”

“You know.”

Shawn frowns hard, his eyes moving around the room like he's searching for something. When he finds it, he gawks at me.

“For real? That’s how you’ll figure it out?”

“Yes,” I say quickly, picking the stick back up.

“And she's just gonna let you do that?”

I pause again, unable to verbalize an answer off the bat. I know I have the power of Influence. I don't need to be allowed to do anything. I could've Influenced her the first night in the VIP booth. I could've told her to leave the club with me right there at that moment, and if Von would've tried to intervene, I could've Influenced him to walk into oncoming traffic—although death by motor vehicle would not satisfy my bloodlust. I could've Influenced everyone in Fantasies to silently walk to the Benjamin Franklin Bridge and jump off head-first. It’s not hard to get what I want out of humans. However, when it comes to Influencing Aaliyah, I’ve run into a roadblock.

I don't want to.

This is new for me. I do not have morals that align with anyone’s religion or code of conduct. I don't feel bad about hurting anyone. Ever. I am not saddened by using the abilities gifted to me—against my will—by my maker, and just like her, I do not feel empathy. It’s safe to say that I truly don’t give a fuck … but when I look at Aaliyah … it’s different.

I'm torn, constantly conflicted and fighting my nature. On one hand, I have no choice but to lie to her about most personal things right now. She can't know I'm a vampire, so I lie about my skin being cold. She can't know that Black Coins was not gifted to me by some man on his death bed out of the kindness of his heart. If I told her I tortured that man and forced him to sign over the casino before I drank every ounce of blood in his body, I get the feeling she wouldn't talk to me again. So, I have to lie to her the way I lie to everyone but Shawn. But Influencing her feels like an entirely different form of cheating.

I am drawn to Aaliyah, and I want her to be drawn to me. I want it to be real. After only two conversations, I know I want her to want me without tricks. So how much Influencing should I do? How much nudging is permissible before I feel like I've crossed the line and forced her to desire me against her will?

“Nah, I don't think she’ll just let me,” I say, staring off into space.