He nodded. “She wasmade.Like me. What if her husband was one of death’s curses? He might have lost control and killed Alma. Remorseful, he could have fed her his own blood to revive her. The process takes days. Her family might have found her and taken her to be buried without knowing she’d been turned.”
“That is a far-fetched tale, señor.”
“Maybe so. Maybe not. If I am correct, I can assure you that when she woke, the thirst was insatiable. The need to kill is uncontrollable.”
From what Carolina understood, some fifty people lost their lives that night. Thought to be possessed, Alma massacred everyone in her path until someone sliced off her head.
Carolina studied Lalo’s soft brown skin, his silly mustache, his kind eyes. Was he a victim like her great-great-great-grandmother?
“How many lives have you taken?” she asked.
“Let’s just say I am damned.” He rested his hand over his heart. “So long as I am of sound mind and I can silence the thirst, I will fight to ensure no one else loses loved ones because of un vampiro.”
“Youwill fight?” she teased.
“It’s a figure of speech.”
She smiled. “I see.” Carolina liked how seriously he took everything. She wondered if he ever laughed.
“If I’m correct and your great-great-great-grandfather was the first vampiro in Abundancia, he very well could be the monster to end my misery. When I was turned, I saw scattered bits and pieces of my maker’s memories. I saw a jagged mountain range just like Devil’s Spine. She was here at some point in her life. She very well could have been turned by Alma’s husband. If we kill him, the thread of power that links people like me to the god of death will be cut. The power inside us will be destroyed.”
“You know this for certain?”
“I don’t. But at this point, it’s my best working theory, the only thing that makes sense.”
“My family has fought for generations to keep this pueblo safe. And here you are telling me it was us who brought the devilsto the entire country. Alma’s death could have been a random attack. Why do you specifically believe it was my great-great-great-grandfather who turned her?”
“If the attack was random, the vampiro who turned her would have fled knowing the people of Del Oro were after it. Your pueblo is small but resilient. Finding shelter in one of the larger ciudades would have been much simpler. But when a soul is pulled from the Land of the Dead by Tecuani, that person cannot venture far from their resting place. That soul is basically trapped. I believe it may be why they make new vampiros in the first place: the original sediento would need others to do its bidding elsewhere.”
“Why would Alma bring her lover back knowing he could never leave these lands?”
“The god is a trickster. She might not have known. Besides, would she have cared if it meant her husband was alive? But the killings continued after Alma was slain becauseshebrought him back. It only makes sense that he is still somewhere in or around the valley. He cannot leave. Thus, your precious pueblo is in constant danger from sedientos. Los vampiros are likely here to catch their maker’s next meal.”
“How do you know such facts?”
“We can go to my home right now. I can show you proof.”
She pursed her lips. “What would the writings of a desperate father do to change my mind?”
“If you aren’t going to at least try to understand, why am I still here? Why not kill me like you clearly wish to do?”
“Because your sister begged me to spare you, and because I need you.”
Lalo balked. “You do?”
“You and I are to be betrothed.”
He reared back. “¿Qué? How? I was very clearly shot. I lost. Where is your true fiancé anyway? Don’t you think he’ll be angered to see you in here with a bare-chested man?”
“Rafa is dead.”
His jaw dropped. “Sedientos?”
She shook her head.
“Rafa was pierced by a horn,” she said, picking at her nails.
“A horn?”
