He needed to know more. He needed to understand what he was up against.
“I am here for the woman with red hair,” he said.
The vampiro clutching him sniffed. “I do not smell Maricela on you.”
She had a name.The beast who shattered his life had a name. For some reason, that made things worse. It made his nightmares feel real.
“I am going to her now,” he said.
The woman hissed and released him. “You’ll find Mother in her private room.”
Mother?
Maricela was this creature’s maker then.
Leave,the intelligent part of his brain urged.Get away from this snake pit before it’s too late.And yet, his feet carried him on.
He had no clue where Maricela’s private room was, but he didn’t dare ask. He stumbled through the throng and winced when he noticed several other vampiros within the cantina. The eyes were a telltale sign, but there were other things too. They had an almost feline way of carrying themselves.
Two vampiros wearing matching suits danced with the guests. Another one was sitting at the bar, pretending to drink bourbon as the humans he was with knocked back shots with liquid the color of blood. Another vampiro was nuzzled up to a person’s neck.
Horror roiled through Lalo. He understood why this place was calledThe Den.It was quite literally a lair for these beasts to feed upon innocent souls.
This was a job for officials, for the police, for the militia. Not one nineteen-year-old boy with a sensitive stomach. Alas, here he was, in the rear of the cantina, guided by resentment and curiosity.
He stepped into a hallway that smelled of spilled tequila. The music was still loud but grew muffled as the corridor cut to the right. Lalo stopped just before a door that was slightly ajar. Candles flickered from sconces on the papered walls.
Am I really going to do this?he asked himself.
What other choice did he have? Lalo hadn’t known a moment of peace since that dreadful night. He was constantly peering over his shoulder. He didn’t dare let his sister out of his sight if they had errands to run after sundown. Killing Maricela was the only way to end his suffering. He would not let another child become orphaned like him. He wanted to take down every vampiro in this cantina. Though, that sounded rather impossible, especially considering he’d never even been in a scuffle before. But if he had proof of at least one vampiro’s existence, he could go back to the authorities. They wouldhaveto come to the cantina and exterminate the rest of the foul beasts themselves.
He stuck his hand into the inner pocket of his coat. His fingers wrapped around the wood he had painstakingly sharpened, and he tugged it free.Time to end this now.
“Searching for someone?” a sultry voice queried from behind.
Lalo spun around.
His eyes widened.
Maricela stood before him. Her posture was perfect. Her demeanor was refined. No one would believe such a poised woman capable of the terrors Lalo had seen her inflict. That was the way of un vampiro, he’d discovered. They disarmed their victims withfalse humanity. But there was nothing human about the woman before him. She was a predator, hunting for hearts to devour like Tecuani.
“Pray tell.” She gestured toward the stake in Lalo’s hand. “What do you plan on doing with that toothpick in your grasp?”
Lalo raised the weapon in question. He could only pray she didn’t notice how much it quivered because of his shaking hand. “Do not come near me, fiend. This is willow root, and I know how to use it.”
He didn’t. Not in the slightest. The only semblance of a weapon he knew how to wield were the knives he used to slice through seasoned meat at the dinner table.
“What have I done to deserve such vitriol? To be called afiendin my own home,” she asked, smiling as if this were an amusing game to be played.
“You took my parents from me. You ruined my life.”
“I’ve ruined many lives. That is how I stay so beautiful.” She batted her lashes. “I’ll offer you a bit of comfort, señor. If your parents looked anything like you, I’m certain they tasted divine.”
Her tongue slithered over her front teeth, stopping at the fangs that had elongated to dangerously sharp points. His insides quaked. Why in the stars did he think coming here was a good idea? That had perhaps been the problem. He wasn’t thinking and simply acted. He wasn’t typically impulsive. Gods, if he died tonight, his sister would reach into his grave and throttle him.
That could not happen. He wouldn’t allow Fernanda to live in this world with no family. With no one to care for her. She was only seventeen, and her prospects had stopped calling when he’d become the boy who cried vampiro.
Lalo lunged, thrusting his weapon toward Maricela’s heart. The vampiro simply swatted his hand, and the stake thumped to the floor.
