Page 3

CHAPTER 3

Lalo

Four Weeks Later

Lalo and Fernanda had hurried along bumpy and desolate roads for one month and two days. It was a wonder he didn’t have a crook in his neck from checking over his shoulder constantly, searching through the kicked-up dust for anything amiss. But so far, there was no sign of Maricela or any vampiros under her dominion.

The logistics of traveling so far northwest had been a nightmare. They had to hire cocheros that didn’t mind driving their wagons hard through the night. And find carriages with thick curtains that didn’t let in the sunlight.

There was no sun in the Land of the Dead. Souls moved easiest within cool shadows and so there was no need. Because of this, Tecuani, as powerful as he was, was weakened by the fierce rays of the sun. So too were the monsters he helped create. Lalo had read that vampiros who had recently been turned could withstand sunlight for a brief time because some of their humanity was still intact, but it wasn’t a pleasant experience by any means.

On the fifth day of their voyage, Fernanda had stormed out of the inn they were tucked away in, itching and fuming over the bedbugs she’d found under the cot. Blaming Lalo for their misfortune, for everything bad in her life, as siblings who had to flee from vengeful vampiros sometimes did. He went after her, forgetting who and what he was, and found himself staring up at a cloudless sky. His flesh bubbled and burst with pus after mere minutes. His insides felt like they were being boiled. The pain was unspeakable. And the oozing blisters destroyed his perfectly pressed clothes.

From his research, Lalo knew he could heal himself quickly by feeding on human blood. But he refused. He couldn’t stand the thought of seeing another person’s intimate thoughts, of slithering through their memories as well as stealing away their life. So he tried his best to hunt whatever animals he could on the way—healing just took much longer. But not taking in the sustenance truly required made his skin feel clammy and his bones brittle.

“Why do you appear so miserable?” Fernanda had asked on a particularly long stretch of barren road. She sat up. “Are you still thirsty?”

Lalo rested his burning forehead on the cool windowpane. “Terribly. Wretchedly. Unbearably so.”

“But you just caught a rabbit.”

He winced. He would rather not be reminded.

“I need human blood to feel full, Fernanda. That is how this works. I’ve told you this a dozen times.” Fernanda’s attention span rarely lasted long. And where her brother was concerned, it seemed to be even shorter. Lalo sighed. “If sedientos don’t consume human life eventually, we start truly dying. And dying hurts like hell.”

“Then you must find a human who is willing to…”

“No,” he said firmly. “When we consume human blood, we take time from their life, remember? Every ounce I drink could steal days or weeks from them, and I won’t do it.”

His ears still rang from the shrieks of those he had attacked in the cantina when the bloodlust grew too strong. He could taste the humans’ fear and hear the hissing of vampiros as they tried to fend him off. It made him sick. And yet, he was desperate for more. The thirst coiling around his veins was like a parasite squirming inside him. Clawing at his senses. Burning his throat. Urging him to give in. He couldn’t let that happen. He knew if he did, he might be lost to his sister forever.

But feeding on animals would not suffice for long. By Lalo’s calculations and from the scribblings of another vampiro who resisted the thirst, he gave himself less than a month before his body gave out and he became the true monster Maricela had warned him of.

He turned away from Fernanda and glared out the small window. His spine straightened. Through the intermittent breaks between the trees, he could see a vast valley. Small adobe homes littered the open space, warm light glowing from their windows. At the center of the valley, sprouted un pueblo of squat buildings with a few larger structures. A church was one, most likely. The town hall. Perhaps a school. His brow furrowed. The entire pueblo was encircled by a tall barrier made of thick stone.

The carriage bumped over a rough patch, causing the siblings to jostle back and forth. Lalo was about to complain, but Fernanda gasped.

She jerked the curtain open farther. “Is that Del Oro?”

Del Oro, the town where Alma Rosario had been found dead centuries ago. Her murder was the first of its kind in Abundancia as far as Lalo could tell. It was by pure luck that he’d discovered her obituary in the library catacombs, since those records weren’t often kept back then. And it was only there because the poor woman’s death had been featured in a paper that highlighted conspiracy theories and tales of the macabre.

Woman found drained of blood, the article stated. Small pueblo plagued by fanged beasts.

The next editorial in the paper was about little creatures that stole away people’s teeth. Lalo imagined not too many scholars read that sort of fluff. But he had been desperate to understand the monster who had taken his parents from him. He needed to prove to everyone that he hadn’t simply been in shock, as the officials claimed.

Fernanda crossed her arms. “El pueblo is tiny. What do people even do here?”

“Sí. It is much quainter than what we are used to.” Their home city of Los Campos was a lively place full of the very rich and the very poor. Lalo and his sister had grown up with anything a person could want—meat at every meal, the best private schools one could afford, new shoes the second the heels of the last got scuffed. Their parents may not have offered all the love a child needed, but they had tried their best to make up for it in possessions. Not that Lalo needed much. Books, tailored suits, a trip to the barber once a week. Sometimes twice, if they hadn’t trimmed his hair to his liking. He was a simple man, in his opinion.

Fernanda squinted. “Why is Del Oro so heavily guarded?”

Lalo peeked out the window. Along with the border wall, at one entrance, sat two people mounted on horses.

He scanned through his memories of the little information he had been able to glean about the town. Del Oro was founded in the late 1500s by the Fuentes family. They were haciendados mostly, running ranchos and trading with pueblos and marketers nearby.

“One article claimed that el pueblo was nearly decimated by fanged beasts. But that was generations in the past. Certainly that couldn’t be why the wall around the main hub of the town was built. Perhaps it’s meant to keep out bandidos,” he offered. Since the current mayor, Se?or Luis Fuentes, had taken office, reports of “animal” attacks had decreased. There was no official statement about vampiros in any article Lalo found, but he understood what an “animal” attack might mean. That had been exactly what the officers in Los Campos had called his parents’ slayings.

The carriage shuddered as the wooden wheels moved from dirt to stone. The only home he could rent on such short notice with a hint of privacy was at the top of a hill that overlooked the town. At the edge of the forest, it had not been lived in for many years because the tenants had gone missing. But the woman who brokered the lease agreement assured Lalo it was still “livable.” Whatever that meant.

Fernanda smirked as she entered Lalo’s quarters. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

His new room was immaculate. Everything was in order. Just the way he preferred it.

“I was bored,” he said in his preferred monotone fashion.

Fernanda snorted. “Only you would try to cure boredom by dusting books.”

“They aren’t just any books. They are the possible key to my salvation.” He had snuck in a few of his favorite novels as well. Lalo knew he shouldn’t waste any extra space inside the trunk he brought when they fled, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t have the heart to leave everything he loved behind.

“Have you found anything new?” she asked, hope dancing in her eyes.

Fernanda had gone into town to purchase supplies and see if she could learn anything useful about the pueblo. She’d come back with some texts she said were about the town history from the tiny library that also stood as the courier office.

“Nope.” He flicked one of the borrowed books shut. “There wasn’t a single sentence about vampiros inside these.”

She shrugged. “It was the best I could find. The woman at the counter kept making the sign of protection when I walked in. People are absolutely aghast that we’re renting a home so far outside the walls. One asked if we had a death wish like the Alicantes who built the home.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Did you ask why they have barriers surrounding el pueblo?”

“Unfortunately not. I was too busy making eyes at the most beautiful girl walking by.” Fernanda swept past Lalo and plopped onto his perfectly made bed. She glanced around, her brows quirked with displeasure. “It is a tomb in here.”

His intestines grumbled, desperate for blood. If he didn’t feed soon, he might lose whatever control he had.

Everything was beginning to feel like the constant thrusting of penknives into him. Breathing. Walking. Thinking.

Fernanda truly observed him for the first time since she had entered his quarters. “You’re going blue around the lips.”

Consuming one’s life force kept a sediento looking nearly identical to how they were before being turned. Not consuming made them appear as if they were living corpses. Their organs started failing. Their skin went ashen. Their bodies quite literally began feeding on themselves. But he’d rather shrivel into a worm than feed off another human.

“You need nourishment, brother. I’m sorry the butcher hasn’t provided what we asked of him yet.”

Lalo dropped his gaze to the floor, the shame and wretchedness of that truth overwhelming him.

“What will you do?” Fernanda asked.

“About finding clues on how to turn myself back into a human before it’s too late?”

“No, you blockhead. About feeding. There will be nothing to turn back into if you don’t eat.”

Dread seeped into Lalo’s body. He sighed heavily and turned away from his book.

“I will have to hunt down a deer or something.” A small rabbit wouldn’t suffice.

His life in the city had never given him cause to hunt. Even when the other menfolk went on holiday in the country, he preferred to stay back and read or review his father’s business ledgers. He didn’t even know how to properly ride a horse. Sure, he could dress the part well enough, but he never had the need to go faster than an unconcerned trot.

“Do you want company?” Fernanda asked.

“I’d rather hate myself in private, thank you very much.”

Fernanda’s gaze held his, and he hated the pity he read there. She’d give him that look whenever he declined an invitation to a ball or charity event. As if staying away from social activities because he didn’t like them was the very sorriest of things. At least now her sympathetic glances had a good reason behind them, he supposed.

“The sun is setting,” she said. “You should probably go.”

He rose from his chair, grabbed his cloak, and pulled the hood over his head. “No need to wait up for me, sister. I have no idea how long I will be.”

He was incredibly fast, due to the power of Tecuani thrumming inside him. And his senses were extravagantly heightened. But that didn’t guarantee a kill. Half the time, he simply couldn’t force himself to take the life of whatever creature he had caught. He’d eaten meat all his life but that didn’t mean he wanted to be the one doing the butchering.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be up,” Fernanda said, suddenly smiling. “I’m going to go back in town tomorrow to make friends. Perhaps they can help us find more clues about this Alma woman you mentioned. If she truly is the first victim on record in Abundancia, surely these people should know something about her. I must pick out the perfect dress to wear for such an occasion. Do you think the young people here know the latest fashions?”

His fingers shook as he fastened the button on his cloak. “I’m certain they do.”

“That is good at least.” Fernanda stood. “Best of luck, brother.”

Lalo grunted and watched his sister flutter away. He was glad Fernanda was here to help him. She really was a sociable sort, more than he’d ever been. But would they be safe here? Even so far from the city they fled. If he made the expedition to Del Oro, Maricela certainly could.

He shuddered before stuffing that thought away. Best to worry over one thing at a time. At present Lalo’s insides were churning. He had to find some animal and feed, or he’d never have a chance to turn himself back like he so desperately wished he could.

Sighing, he left his room and started down the hallway. He could only pray he wouldn’t get sick while feeding and ruin his clean boots. Again.