Lalo staggered slightly. And his skin blanched the rest of its color as if he were seeing ghosts, as if he recognized these men.
Carolina dug her fingers into her boot. “Here,” she said, offering him a tiny pistol.
His brows raised. “Do you not remember the duel on your ranch?”
“I told you I would fight any monster I came across. Ready yourself.” She raised the stake and pulled a rapier from her belt, then ran to meet them.
Their glowing eyes were a shock against the fog rumbling in. They were nothing like Lalo. She couldn’t see an ounce of humanity within them.
And they were going to die.
Carolina ducked low as the first sediento swiped its claws in the air. She slid through the mud and sank the blade deep into its thighs. The beast shrieked with fury as it fell to the ground on hands and knees.
“To your left!” Lalo yelled.
She somersaulted, dodging a fatal blow from the second vampiro. Carolina scrambled to her feet and pulled a throwing dagger forged with obsidian from the holster on her chest. She sent it flying right for the second vampiro. Just like Abuelo had taught her to do. The knife hit its mark, slipping through the tendons and bones and into its rotting heart. The beast screamed as its body began to convulse. The glowing red of its eyes dulled, and it fell flat into the muck.
“Kill it!” she ordered, pointing at the vampiro crawling straight for Lalo.
The pistol in his hand shook like a leaf on a tree. She stomped over and snatched the weapon from his grasp. Without looking, she aimed at the beast who she first felled and let the wooden bullet fly.
She and Lalo stood there, panting, staring hard into each other’s eyes.
“Why did you hesitate?” she hissed.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to shoot, but it was like staring down at the hell that is to be my fate. It unnerved me.”
His face went paler than it already was. He swayed for a moment before his knees gave out completely. Carolina caught him by the arms.
“What is happening to you?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Lalo.” Her tone was stern, like what her mother would use when she or her siblings crossed a line.
“I need to feed, that is all.”
“Fine. The butcher…”
He shook his head. “Can wait. I need to ensure Fernanda issafe.”
“Your sister will be fine. My papá and his men are hunting in the forest now. They will check for monsters near your home. Butyouwon’t be able to move at all if you don’t feed soon.”
He glared at the dead vampiros. “No time. We must go to Orilla del Río,” he said.
“Why?”
“Take me to the cemetery, and I will explain.”
Carolina blinked at such a peculiar request, but what wasn’t strange in her world these days?
“I will take you thereafterwe get you some blood.”
She started for her horse but halted when he added, “We’re going to need a couple of shovels as well.”
I often mistake love and loss. They are twin sisters. Holding hands and scampering past. Teasing me with their wicked beauty. Both make me feel like my world is large and small. They remind me I should be grateful but also terrified.
—Pío Parra, Psalms of the Heart Anthology 1:1
