Page 29

CHAPTER 29

Lalo

He practiced dagger-throwing until he heard the clip-clop of hooves and creaking of wooden spokes. Not wanting to leave the board and knives, Lalo quickly put them back in the same place he had seen Carolina find them. He grabbed his coat, swung it over his shoulders and moved toward the door farthest away from where he sensed the carriages were entering.

The sun had already begun its descent. But the sweet relief of not having to worry about being scorched alive would be short-lived. Soon he’d have to endure yet another social gathering. He sighed against the coming night.

People bustled about the hacienda grounds. Colorful papers cut to look like lace had been hung from the trees to the outer buildings. Men stood around un cazo, stirring something in a vat of bubbling oil. The barn doors were wide open, and people were busy sweeping the dirt floor and carrying in tables and chairs.

“Why in the saints would anyone have a party at a time like this?” Lalo wondered aloud. The idea was preposterous. Sure, Se?or Fuentes’s guards were out hunting, but what if a sediento slipped in through their watch? A sediento like Maricela.

Though, he supposed, with so much commotion, Lalo could sneak into the library unnoticed. He needed that ledger her father kept.

Lalo tucked his arms into his coat and slinked toward the main house. He entered through the mudroom. He had learned to control the enormous dogs that guarded the chicken pens nearby. The act had been rather simple, thanks to Adrián’s advice. You’ve got to show them who is el patrón, the boy had told him. And Lalo had. “Sit,” he commanded los perros in his most stern voice. And los perros, to his delight, had obeyed.

Slowly, he opened the door that led from the mudroom to the main corridor of the casa. He could hear people laughing and chatting merrily in the kitchen. Could smell onions and tangy nopales frying in pans. Had he any lingering longings for food, he knew his mouth would be watering at that precise moment.

Lalo quickly found his way to the library. He shut the door behind him and began searching through every text. It was amazing that una hacienda so far from the ciudad would have so many incredible books. Carolina’s scent lingered in every inch of the room. She had touched every damn spine. A smile crept up his face at the thought of her sitting in the leather chair reading about love and loss near the window.

What a strange and brilliant young woman she was.

Lalo frowned. There was no point in thinking about her in any way. Even if they found Vidal, there was no guarantee Lalo was coming out of that altercation alive. Vidal was old, and surely hard to vanquish. And when the power of Tecuani was severed, Lalo’s connection to this world could snap, killing him in the process. Dying a final death would be worth it, in the end, because Lalo would know his sister was safe from Maricela and the whole vampiro race. And Carolina too.

The scent of freshly dried ink tingled his nose. Lalo followed the smell. It could be nothing, but he wasn’t getting anywhere just staring at well-loved books.

His nose led him to the large desk at the rear of the library. Papers were stacked on top in an organized manner. There were bill receipts and letters from nearby pueblos. But nothing of importance where Lalo was concerned.

He chanced a glance at the door. No one was coming. He didn’t hear any heartbeats. And his thumped so faintly it hardly counted.

Lalo opened the first drawer. Just blank parchment and tools for writing. He opened the second and found banknotes and coins. Seeing so much money lying around made him think of his own father’s business. He’d left a note to Father’s solicitor before he and Fernanda had fled. Hopefully, he’d done as Lalo asked and hid their inheritances in an account under a new name.

He shut the drawer and went for the third. It was locked. He wiggled the handle, but it did not budge.

Breaking the mechanism wouldn’t do. For one, it wasn’t right to destroy someone’s property. Secondly, the moment Se?or Fuentes saw that it was damaged, he would ascertain someone had been in here.

Lalo opened the first drawer and grabbed a pair of scissors and a thin strip of metal used for stirring ink. Kneeling, he got to work trying to disengage the lock. He was no expert, but Fernanda had sealed her keys inside her jewelry box a time or two before.

Footfalls came from the corridor beyond. The familiar thud of heartbeats sounded in his ears, followed by voices.

Lalo’s eyes widened. Se?or Fuentes was coming this way.

He dug the scissors into the bottom of the keyhole, then inserted the thin rod. He lightly pressed the thin strip onto the prongs that held the lock in place.

Se?or Fuentes was nearing the library. Lalo’s fingers started to shake. He dropped the pin and cursed. Picking it up from the floor, he started again.

“Ah sí,” Se?or Fuentes said. “Our heifers are the finest in Abundancia.”

An accented voice questioned, “But are you willing to offer the best prices, se?or?”

Se?or Fuentes chuckled. “You will want to pay me double when you see the leathers we produce.”

The two laughed heartily.

“Come on. Come on,” Lalo whispered, trying his best to get the right technique.

With a soft click, the lock disengaged. Lalo turned the scissors, and the drawer slid open. The scent of fresh ink wafted into his senses. A thick ledger with tarnished edges sat by itself inside the drawer. An intricate crest with a bull skull and flowers had been painted on the leather.

Lalo grabbed the book just as the door handle to the library turned.

He closed the drawers as quietly and quickly as possible and tucked himself below the desk as deeply as he could go.

The door opened, and the two men stepped in.

“I have been thinking of that birria your wife cooked us last time we visited,” the other man said. “I’ve not had anything so tasty in all my travels.”

“Nor will you ever. But wait until you try the carnitas my men are making now.”

Lalo clamped his eyes shut as Se?or Fuentes drew closer. What would he say if he was caught?

I sleepwalk. And steal people’s property during that time? No, that wouldn’t do.

I came in here to read and saw this book on the floor. And—what? Tripped under the desk? Pathetic.

“Here it is,” Se?or Fuentes said. Lalo heard a paper snap. “The list of rates for our heifers and steers.”

The room grew quiet. They must be some rates.

“How about we discuss this over some cervezas. Do you drink, Jocobo?” el se?or asked.

“I may start after seeing this document.”

A roar of laughter came from Se?or Fuentes. “Come, I had some mezcal put on the ice you brought in.”

The men’s voices slowly grew muted as they walked away. Lalo let out a deep breath and slumped. That had been far too close. Slowly, he eased himself out from under the desk. He opened the book and a folded piece of parchment slipped to the ground. He knelt, grabbed it, and opened the paper, flattening it on top of the desk. His eyes grew wide. The Fuentes family tree had been drawn in black ink and seemed to go back four or five generations. But that wasn’t what had snatched the air out of his lungs. It was the tiny x ’s next to so many of their names.