The boy chucked the bones into the air. The dogs caught them, then chomped them to shreds in seconds.
“You’re the man who Carolina was caught kissing?”
Lalo’s eyes widened. “We were not…” He cleared his throat. They had a deal. She was going to help him so long as he helped her. “I am to be her fiancé.” He stepped closer to the boy, and the dogs growled at him. Lalo held out his hand. “Eduardo Montéz.”
“I’m Adrián.” The boy put his sticky palm in Lalo’s and gave a hearty shake. “My cousin says you’re a dead man. My father is mad. And when he gets mad…” The boy whistled and shook his head. “Watch out.”
Lalo chuckled, but quickly covered it up when he saw the anger in the boy’s eyes. Lalo’s heart softened a bit. He liked a person who stood up for his family.
“Let us hope, for my sake, your cousin is incorrect.”
Adrián nodded somberly.
“I shall take my leave then,” Lalo said.
The boy scrutinized Lalo. “Do you love her?”
“Erm…yes…I do.”
“Then don’t let Papá send her away. Rafa will take her to the ciudad, and we’ll never see her again.”
Lalo’s stomach dropped to his knees. He also knew the love of a good sister.
“I will try my best” was what he offered as a reply.
Adrián nodded. “Tell the dogsget backand they won’t mess with you. Remember, you’ve got to show them who is el patrón.” He hit his chest, a show of dominance, Lalo presumed. Adrián backed out of the room. He started to walk away. Over his shoulder, he yelled, “Good luck with mi papá. You’re gonna need it, señor.”
Lalo straightened his shoulders. He thought of how confident Adrián was, of how powerful and intimidating his sister was too. Lalo had been frightened of people and messes and awkward situations for most of his existence. He’d let those fears win. He didn’t want to feel helpless anymore. He wanted to be the one in command of his life for a change.
He stepped into the rain, and the dogs began to growl.
“Back,” he ordered, flashing his fangs. And to his surprise, the beasts obeyed.
He found his way out of the hacienda and ran in the direction of his new home. The Fuentes rancho was on the completely opposite side of the valley, close to the town center. Lalo’s was tucked in the piney woods, away from civilization. Kind of poetic really. Carolina Fuentes being this self-proclaimed protector of her people, him being some devious fiend. Opposites attracting.
With Tecuani’s power in his marrow, the world was as sharp as ever. To the west were rolling hills, with well-kept orchards and tiny adobe homes dotted about. Even from such a great distance, he could see a chubby raccoon scavenging through the compost in front of someone’s house. To the northeast loomed the edge of the forest and the small mountain range it surrounded.
A pulse of sharp pain shot through his belly.
He gritted his teeth. Normally, these cramps only lasted for moments, a quick nudge that he needed to feed. But this one would not let up. He staggered forward and forced his legs to move. He had to get home to drink the pig’s blood Fernanda had purchased from the butcher.
He slowed his gait as he entered the main square. El pueblo was empty. The citizens of Del Oro were most likely asleep or shielding themselves from the rain. He trudged past a large church, its stuccoed walls gleaming in the downpour. The building beside it appeared to be the schoolhouse, with a strangely patterned fence made for keeping small children in and cute paintings hanging from the inside of the windowpanes. Upon further inspection, Lalo realized the fence appeared to be made from tree roots. A clever bit of woodworking if one were trying to keep away wayward vampiros. A barbershop sign swung from a squat building to his right. He had not stopped to notice before, but it seemed everything a person would need was there—a small apothecary, the butcher, a general store.
The cantina doors opened and shut as laughing people burst out and in, carrying with them the merry tune of the piano. By his estimations, the time was nearing seven o’clock in the morning. Either these people started early or had yet to finish their fun from last night.
Lalo paused, ignoring the rain thumping against his hair and shoulders. Memories flooded his mind from the last time he’d been in such a place. He had sunk his teeth into so many throats. The lives he’d stolen in Maricela’s cantina still played inside his mind. Their memories, their dreams, their sorrows tortured him even now.
He’d slayed a person his age that night. As Lalo drank the boy’s life force, he saw the young man’s memories flash through his mind. Lalo saw his deepest secrets, his disgusting desires. The boy had killed before, too. For pleasure. Lalo had tasted the glee tainting his blood as the young man dug his blade into a person’s stomach.
Lalo had tried to purge the foul aftertaste and memories from both his tongue and mind. But they remained. They remained still. Every devilish act that young man committed was singed into Lalo’s memories like a brand. All the lives he’d taken that night had a foul bitterness to them. Their souls were vile and vicious.
Humans and sedientos weren’t so unalike as Carolina wished to believe. They were all monsters in their own right. But that didn’t mean Lalo wished to remain a killer.
He caught sight of someone standing frozen in the rain. His brow furrowed. It wasn’t the way they stood that snagged his attention but the lack of sound from a beating heart.
“Hello, love.” The voice was whisper soft, but Lalo heard it clear as day. Chills rippled down his skin. He knew it wasn’t Maricela—the tone was wrong—but he had heard this person the night he was turned. She was one of Maricela’s children. The woman who had grabbed him by the shirt when he was walking through the cantina. She’d run away when his bloodlust overtook him.
“We’ve been looking for you,” she said in a singsong way.
