Page 14

CHAPTER 14

Carolina

She frowned. What did this stranger from the south know of Alma?

“Why?” she asked, her tone more accusing than she meant it to be. “How do you even know that name?”

“Alma Rosario is the reason I am here,” he said.

Carolina’s brow furrowed deeper. “Are you related to her?”

She prayed to every god that weren’t so. Because whether she cared to admit it or not, she was attracted to Lalo Montéz. Not emotionally, of course. He was still a sediento. But physically? She couldn’t deny the fact that he was beautiful. Even the way he tried to flex his muscles nonchalantly was endearing. She lived in a world with barrel-chested brutes, and it was rather refreshing to meet someone so…unassuming.

“I am not related to any Rosarios that I know of,” he said.

“That’s a relief.”

His brows shot up. “How come?”

“Um.” She shook her head. “No reason.” Except for the fact that I am torn between pining for you and wanting to kill you. She winced at her own thoughts. Who used the word pining anyway? Nena’s secret-romance manuscripts she insisted Carolina proofread must have been rubbing off on her.

“Anyway, you were asking what I knew of Alma. She was alive three or four generations back. One day, not long after her husband passed, she went missing. The people of el pueblo searched high and low for her but could never find her. After a month, they assumed she had taken her life.”

“You know quite a bit about her.”

“I do,” Carolina said. “She was my great-great-great-grandmother.” Hence, her satisfaction that they were not some long-lost distant cousins.

“She was a Fuentes?” he asked.

“Yes. Rosario was her maiden name. She was Alma Rosario Fuentes.”

“I tried to find such facts in my research before, but there had been no census or marriage certificates conducted during that time. Or, at least, duplicates of the records had not made their way to the cities.”

She watched as his eyes grew distant. Carolina could tell his mind was whirling inside.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Promise to have an open mind?”

“You are alive, no? That should prove my mind is open enough.”

“Point well taken.” He cleared his throat. “Alma’s husband had recently perished,” he said. “Then she went missing in the woods. Eventually, her body was found, but it had been drained of blood.”

She sat on the bed, her thigh accidently bumping into his own leg. “How did you know that?”

“A society page.”

She giggled. She didn’t mean to. The laughter simply bubbled right out of her.

He half grinned. “Amusing, yes. But there’s more. Do you know much about the gods?”

“Amá has had me in religious classes since before I could walk. I can name all seventy-seven of the lesser dioses in alphabetical order if you’d like.”

“Perhaps another time.” His gaze flicked to her thigh. She was in a nightdress—there was no skin showing, but the silhouette of her knee could be seen. Carolina liked the way his chest started to rise just a bit faster while he looked upon her. It made her feel strangely powerful.

He scooted away stiffly. “What about Tecuani? What do you know of him?”

“Abuelito used to tell us stories about Tecuani when we wouldn’t go to bed.” She smiled. “He said the dios took on the form of a jaguar to hunt for misbehaving children.”

“Why would he terrorize his grandchildren like that?”

She chuckled to herself. “We were rather naughty.” Her heart suddenly felt as raw as the day she’d lost him. “My abuelo was killed by un vampiro a month ago.”

Lalo winced. “I am sorry. My parents were taken from me last year.”

“By sedientos?”

He nodded once. “No one believed me. We aren’t so acquainted in the cities with the monsters like Del Oro is. They do not attack so openly in the ciudad. I watched my parents die. I saw this monster that seemed so human tear into them. I went to the authorities, but they laughed in my face and disregarded me. I knew what I saw. So I started researching anything and everything I could find about creatures who fed off human blood. I went to every clandestine meeting or university lecture I could find on the lore of devils and the like. By pure luck, I found an old journal written by a man from Santemala for sale. The author stated that, in desperation, he called upon Tecuani and begged the god to bring his only daughter’s soul back to the realm of the living.”

Carolina’s eyes widened. “That’s blasphemous.”

“Maybe so. But we all have the ability to do terrible things when we feel like hope is lost.”

“And do you think that excuses their sins?” she asked.

Lalo shrugged. “I am the last person to judge anyone for their sins.” He suddenly appeared haunted. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he’d done since turning into un sediento.

“According to the man’s journal, Tecuani said he would bring the man’s daughter back from the Land of the Dead, but at a cost.”

“What was the price?” she asked.

“I don’t know. From what I gathered, the man agreed. But his daughter was not the same little girl he cherished. She was different. Una diabla, he wrote. He said she killed her own mother and he himself had to strike her down in the end.”

“Gods above.” Carolina made the sign of protection.

Lalo wiped his palms against the sheets. “What if Alma went into the forest to pray to Tecuani? I found no evidence of vampiros in Abundancia prior to her death. You said she’d lost her husband, might she have—”

“Are you insinuating my ancestor went against the laws of nature? You dare say a Fuentes summoned these monsters!”

“When one is grieving the love of their life, they might do unspeakable things.”

“Not a Fuentes.” Carolina stood suddenly and began to pace. She clutched the dagger she’d found among her abuelo’s things tight in her hand. “There were bite marks on her neck. She was a victim, not the wrongdoer.”

“But what if she did summon Tecuani? What if her husband’s soul returned to his body, and he became a monster like the other countryman’s daughter?”

“Enough. I refuse to listen to you slander my family’s name.” She started for the door. She needed a moment to gather her thoughts.

Lalo threw the covers back, moved near her, and grasped her arm. “One last question, please. What happened when the people of el pueblo brought Alma’s body back from the forest?”

Carolina slowly turned toward him, and he released his hold. Her eyes flicked to his bare chest, to the wound that had almost completely healed.

“She burst from her grave and killed nearly everyone in her wake,” Carolina whispered.

He nodded. “She was made. 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, se?or.”

“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.”

“ You will 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 devils to 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 because she brought 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?”

“From a bull.”

“A bull?”

“It was an angry bull.”

He blinked, stunned by her confession. “My stars. I…I’m sorry.”

She snorted. The way his face became so suddenly animated made her heart twist in strange knots.

“I am only teasing, Lalo. Rafa is fine. He did get stuck by a bull horn, but he’ll recover.”

Lalo let loose a breath. “So we aren’t engaged then?”

“Not yet. We will be, though. My papá cannot deny you now.”

“You said he’s…I lost the duel.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I was there, se?orita. I was shot.”

She smirked. “But no one else knows that. You were seen as the last man to leave the field. Rafa ran away, granted it was for a good reason, but you stood your ground. You are the victor. And I am your prize.”

They stared at each other for a moment. A current thrummed through her core. She had to force her eyes to stay put. To not flick down to his chest and abdomen. She may have seen other boys in el pueblo with their shirts off before, but none made her cheeks feel flushed.

She cleared her throat. “I will help you search for answers, and in exchange you will be my doting fiancé. Just until I can find a way to convince my parents I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

He had the nerve to appear perplexed. “Proper women cannot live without a husband.”

“Who said I cared a lick about being proper? I am here, aren’t I? Practically in the arms of my sworn enemy.”

“What about your father?” he asked. “He’ll never approve of our betrothal. I’m quite certain he hates me.”

“You can leave that to me, my love.” She reached up and tapped him on the nose.