“It’s okay, Luz,” Carolina said in that impatient but loving way one has with their nanny. Not that he was an expert on such manners; they’d had a sitter for only six months growing up. She had quit, saying Lalo was too picky about his food and Fernanda was a terror. He couldn’t blame the nanny on the latter point—Fernandahadbeen a little devil. Still was. Lalo, however, had been a perfectly pleasant child, so he didn’t know why she had complained about him.
Luz Elena shook her head. “Being alone together isn’t proper.”
Carolina slithered her arm around Lalo’s elbow. He jolted at her sudden touch. And his appetite tripled in its ravenousness. His free hand clenched into a fist.
Think of taxes,he said to himself.Think of math equations. Of anything but Carolina touching you.
“I may walk unaccompanied with my fiancé,” Carolina said.
The vieja raised her chin. “The betrothal is not official.”
Lalo tried to pull free—Carolina’s nearness was too much—but she gripped him harder, tugging him even closer to her soft body. The scent of her made him want to do the most inappropriate things. Like run his fingers through her dark hair. Like sink his teeth into her.
What is wrong with you?he scorned himself. She was a sediento killer, one that would happily stake his heart at this very moment if she didn’t need him.
“Our engagement is certainly happening,” Carolina said to Luz Elena. “So I may escort my husband-to-be unaccompanied.”
Carolina hauled Lalo, not so gently, forward before Luz Elena could argue further. They moved as one in silence, walking at a brisk pace up the long hallway filled with portraits of people he could only assume were relatives. The large Fuentes familia hadthe same stern yet arrogant air about them. There was no mistaking them to be part of the same bloodline.
Was Alma among the gallery? Vidal?
Carolina pressed tighter against Lalo and whispered, “Is she still watching?”
Lalo forced a glance over his shoulder. The nanny was clutching a beaded necklace and mouthing something, observing him intently. “She is. I believe she’s praying.”
Carolina snorted. “Probably for your soul. She’s a pious one.”
“I’d like that actually,” he said quietly.
He meant it in jest, but the truth was, he could use someone to pray to the gods on his behalf. He had slayed those people at Maricela’s seedy cantina in Los Campos. Regardless of their own sins, how could he ever expect to enter the gates of el Cielo after something like that? Was there mercy for someone whose hands were stained with blood? Did his remorse make up for any of it? Could his soul be saved by slaying one last person, Vidal?
Their eyes met again. She had the longest lashes and loveliest lips. How could an individual be so perfectly beautiful? And her scent was so enticing. It burrowed into his very core. His stomach rumbled ferociously.
“You’re hungry,” she said.
Lalo scowled at the tile beneath his boots. “I’m always hungry.”
“How do you control it? The bloodlust.”
“I try to think of anything else in the world. Anything at all. Taxes. Ledgers. Books. But mostly I remember what it felt like to take a person’s life.”
She hadn’t let go of him, despite moving through the hallway with no one but her ancestors watching them from above. Whatwould they think of their great-granddaughter in the arms of a monster?
“That is why we must find Vidal,” he said. “I can’t live like this much longer—always thirsty, constantly trying to not give in—and I need to ensure my sister’s safety.”
Carolina squeezed his bicep and offered a kind smile. “You are a good brother, Lalo.”
Hot emotion clogged his throat. He hadn’t always been the most understanding or patient of siblings, but there wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t have Fernanda’s well-being in mind. He cared for his little sister deeply, and it was almost healing to hear that Carolina took notice. If things went south and he gave into the thirst, there would at least be one person to remind Fernanda that she was loved by her brother.
They walked in silence until they came to a door. Carolina slipped her fingers from his elbow. With her touch gone, Lalo let loose the breath he’d been holding. He couldn’t decide if he liked this kind side of Carolina. It made him feel things. Confusing things. At least when she was trying to murder him, he knew where he stood with her. But now, when they touched, he swore it was like the world around him was expanding and crashing in all at once.
Her back was to him as she opened the door. He used that time to rub his gloved hands across his face.
“Wait here,” she said.
She rushed into the room and drew the shutters hanging on either side of the windows shut. Even in the low light, Lalo could see that every square inch of the space was plastered in gaudy furnishings.
“Better?” she asked.
