Page 13

CHAPTER 13

Lalo

From the window Lalo watched his parents step onto the cobbled road in front of their townhouse in Los Campos. They walked arm in arm, both dressed in their finest clothes for some charity ball. Someone in a cloak sauntered by. Mother’s heel got stuck between two stones. Father knelt, laughing at the situation. He must have pulled too vigorously because Mother’s shin popped him in the nose so hard, he bled. The person in the cloak halted. Pale and delicate hands pulled back the hood, and long red hair flowed freely in the breeze. Her eyes glowed like embers. Then she struck.

Lalo jerked awake. He gasped for air.

His fingers brushed over the bedsheets that had been thrown loosely over his legs and torso. Odd, seeing as he never slept without them tucked tightly around him. Someone had helped him to bed then. But who? Matter of fact: How had he made it into bed?

The smell of warm vanilla, lavender, and leather floated into his senses carrying with them the memories of last night’s fiasco.

He stilled. Lalo was not in his room. In fact, this wasn’t even his house. The walls surrounding him were painted an ugly yellow. Swords and placards were displayed like artwork. The furniture was sparse.

But the scent of that demon girl was everywhere.

Something cold nipped into his throat. A dagger. His eyes snapped to the young woman hidden within the shadows, to the girl who seemed to always have some sort of sharp object pointed at him.

“One wrong move and you are dead,” she whispered.

“Yes. I know the drill well enough. You might want to consider changing up your strategy, though. Along with a good kick to the groin, holding me at knifepoint is getting rather old.”

She shushed him. “Keep your voice down, sanguijuela. Do you want another scandal?”

“Saints, no.” A chill kissed his skin. And he was suddenly all too aware that he was naked from the waist up. He grabbed the covers and shoved them against his bare chest. “Where is my shirt?”

“I had to discard it.”

“You disrobed me?” he said, incredulity dripping from his every word. He checked under the covers. His jaw dropped. “I am in nothing but my underpants.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have seven brothers, se?or. I have seen worse.”

“What if someone comes in?” He jolted. “Where am I?”

“You are in my abuelo’s bedroom. I had to get you somewhere no one would go while you healed.”

He gulped. “So you can finally have your way with me in private?”

“Behave yourself.” She wiggled her brows.

Lalo balked. “Saints, woman, that isn’t what I meant. I meant so you can kill me like the murderess you are.” A terrifying thought occurred to him. “Fernanda, where—”

“Your sister is asleep in my bed, pretending to be me. I’m here to make sure you don’t try anything in my own home.”

“Where would I go without any clothes?!”

“Keep your voice down,” she snapped.

Lalo took a calming breath. “May I have my shirt and breeches?”

“I threw them in the fire. You were shot. There was blood or whatever the hell is inside you seeping out of your wound for the entire world to see.”

He hadn’t even pulled the trigger before Rafael had fired his weapon. That cheater had turned at the count of four not five, just like she had warned. Meanwhile, Lalo had panicked and forgotten to shoot his own weapon. Then the world had turned to mayhem around him. And his thoughts and control had dissolved when he caught a whiff of spilled blood.

She leaned forward. “You wouldn’t heal for a long while. I’ve not seen one of your kind act so weakly before.”

“As I said, I do not partake in feasting on human blood.”

She pursed her lips in disbelief. How many times would he have to explain that fact before she took him seriously?

“What happened?” he asked. “After the duel you forced me into. You’re welcome, by the way.”

She snorted, rather rudely. “It is you who should be thanking me. I saved you from going after sweet Se?ora Orozco. That would have ultimately forced me to kill you once and for all.”

“How did you stop me?” he asked.

She pulled her dagger back and held it on her lap. The blade sparked in the low candlelight. It was thin, with star lilies depicted on the handle, while a single ruby sat at the tip of the hilt. The piece appeared old and expensive. A peculiar bit of weaponry for a ruffian.

“I know there are things I do not understand about you and your kind, but there are some things I do.” Her fingers toyed with the necklace around her throat. She had a beautiful neck. And the vein just there, beneath her brown skin, throbbed ever so enticingly. He gulped and turned away, disgusted by the thirst and desire burning through him.

“I know your kind cannot enter a home unless welcomed,” she said. “Springwater weakens you. Wood through the heart kills. Obsidian too. And the sun scorches your skin, of course.”

“Indeed.” He leaned forward, trying to take in Carolina Fuentes’s features. Trying to determine if there was any part of her he could trust with his truth. He’d so often been dismissed in his life because of his prickly personality. There had been too many times to count that he watched the light go out in people’s eyes when he told them about his day. He’d given up trying.

He was awkward and shy, and he didn’t care for going to balls or enduring meaningless small talk about people’s wealth and popularity. He hated how the upper crust of society thought they were somehow more valuable than others just because of what was in their pocketbooks. He was brushed off as a bore. And after so long, he decided he would rather be alone and figure things out by himself than try.

Until now.

Now he needed help. So far, he’d only gotten into more trouble than out. Though, to be fair to himself, Carolina was mostly to blame as of late.

“You and you sister are close,” Carolina said.

His brow furrowed. “Is that a question or statement?”

“She begged me to save you when the bloodlust took over. She wanted to protect you so badly.” Carolina huffed. “Ironic, isn’t it? Considering you are the one who we need to protect people from.” He opened his mouth to retort, but she held up a hand. “You said in the library that you were searching for a way to end vampiros.”

Lalo’s spine straightened. “You remember that?”

“Not something I’d easily forget.” She shrugged. “I can see you and your sister love each other, and that you’re terrified to lose one another. I understand that feeling. I’ve buried too many loved ones to count at this point.”

“Why have you never left this land?” he asked gently.

“And go where? The Fuenteses built Del Oro from the ground up. This place is all we know. Being rancheros is in our blood. And if we aren’t here to stop the sedientos who plague Boca de la Muerte, who will?”

“So you are trying to protect your family too. Like me.”

“Yes. In that single sense, you and I are the same.” She met his gaze, and his body nearly melted onto the floor. She pulled away first and stood. “What do we need to do to end them?”

His mouth went dry at the word we. He scooted up a bit more, forgetting the blanket concealing his bare chest. Her eyes darted to his torso then to the floor. Lalo wondered if he should have squeezed his abdomen a bit tighter, just so she could see the defined muscles there like the boys in school did during ball games.

He shook his head. What was he thinking?

Lalo cleared his throat and asked, “What do you know of Alma Rosario?”