Certain Dark Things(27)



“Catch them by yourself, then,” Ana said, pulling back her chair and standing up.

She took a step before Kika grabbed her wrist.

“My friends want someone who knows what she’s dealing with. We’ve never seen a Tlāhuihpochtli,” she said, and for the first time the young woman’s face grew stony.

Well, of course not. They were not the most common vampires, especially these days. Humans had the upper hand in terms of numbers, but you could easily find the Necros and Nachzehrers hanging around, partially because disease had decimated a good percentage of the Pre-Hispanic vampire population a few centuries before. There was also the fact that both the Necros and Nachzehrers could reproduce with more ease than other breeds. While a Tlāhuihpochtli might give birth to one or two children during its entire life span, and this life span could be centuries, the Necros could reproduce every few decades, meaning they could potentially have four or even five children. It made a very real difference once you added them up.

“I’m no Van Helsing,” Ana said, pulling away.

“You haven’t even heard the monetary offer,” Kika said, her voice chipper once again, her face relaxed. “Look, why don’t you sleep on it? Come on over and pay us a visit. My friends are very rich and they really want to meet you. Let us help you. And … let me hold on to these.”

Kika grabbed the tablet she had allowed Ana to look at and pulled it away, out of Ana’s reach. The woman then took out a pen and scribbled a phone number on a napkin, depositing it on the table, right by Ana’s hand.

Ana did not speak. She grabbed the napkin and stuffed it in her pocket.





CHAPTER

11

Rodrigo had a dog that used to piss on his furniture. He tried to train it, he put newspapers down on the kitchen floor, but it would just piss on the couch anyway. Rodrigo was certain the dog knew where to piss, but liked to do it on the couch to vex him.

It was the same with the boy. Nick probably knew better; he just decided to monumentally ignore Rodrigo. Puberty. It turns vampires and humans into major *s. Though, to be fair, Nick had been an * long before he was a teenager. Now, at twenty-one, Nick fancied himself a f*cking rock star, with his sunglasses and his hair dyed blond and about a dozen chips too many on his shoulder. Maybe if his father had reined him in … but no, for all his smarts Mr. Godoy tended to be far too lenient with his precious boy.

Rodrigo opened the door without knocking. Nick was sprawled on the large bed, bits of chips on the sheets. Candy wrappers littered the floor. Two empty one-liter soda bottles lay in a corner. When Rodrigo took a step forward, he felt the sole of his shoe stick to a piece of bubble gum.

Rodrigo crossed the room and flung the curtains aside, daylight darting in. At first Nick slept peacefully, no change reflected on his features. Suddenly, he twitched. Nick opened his eyes and jumped up, shrieking.

“Close the curtains!”

Photophobia. You had to love it. Sunlight didn’t turn vampires like Nick into ash. Short-term exposure was more of a nuisance than a real danger, but it could, at the very least, cause blisters. Long-term exposure might give them third-degree burns, which, while not fatal, healed slowly. Hurting them, frankly, was more fun than having them crumble into ash.

Rodrigo closed the curtains. Nick had tumbled onto the floor and pushed himself against the wall, his eyes wide and spit trailing down his chin.

“Good morning,” Rodrigo said nonchalantly.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m just seeing if you want breakfast. Feeling a bit peckish?”

Nick did not reply; his eyes had narrowed into two dark slits. A red, ugly rash was starting to bloom on his cheeks from his brief exposure to the sun. Good. Rodrigo hoped he developed a few nasty blisters.

“Probably not, seeing as you’ve already eaten,” Rodrigo said, squatting down, forearms resting on his knees. He looked straight at the vampire.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“This,” Rodrigo said, taking out his cell phone and pressing it against the kid’s face.

Nick frowned as he looked at the screen and began scrolling through the story. Rodrigo stood up, let him read for a couple of minutes, then spoke.

“Girl dead, found beyond nightclub alley. Throat torn out,” Rodrigo said.

“Who cares?” Nick spat back.

“Vampire bites! The cops will be searching for you.”

Nick rose, his movements those of a spider, a tad jerky from the exposure to sunlight. A tad uncertain. But his voice was assertive. “They won’t find me.”

“Oh, because you cover your tracks so well? Might as well have carved your name onto the bitch’s chest.”

Rodrigo snatched the phone back and stuffed it in his suit jacket’s pocket. Nick didn’t look the least bit guilty about his actions. Not that he expected anything else from such a pampered bloodsucker.

“Do you want to go back home in pieces?” Rodrigo asked.

“We could be back home now if you knew what you were doing,” the boy said dismissively.

Rodrigo glanced at his shoes. They’d been polished recently and he could practically see his own reflection, though the image was distorted, distended, just like he felt in that instant.

“I know what I’m doing. It’s trying not to attract attention. Trying to catch a vampire with no one else knowing and without the authorities figuring out I’m with another damn vampire,” he said, looking back up at the kid.

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