Certain Dark Things(41)

“Have a good journey. You can walk yourselves out, I trust?”

She ought to have more respect for me, Atl thought. For my family. Though there was precious little left of her family to respect.

Elisa placed her manicured hands on the desk, lacing them together. She returned Atl’s stare.

“My mother was your protector,” Atl said in a low voice. “She pulled you out of the gutter. She housed you, fed you, clothed you. If things were the other way around, if it were your daughter asking her for help, she would offer assistance.”

“I paid my debt to your mother. I paid it in blood and I don’t owe you anything. Why don’t you go bother Bernardino? Maybe he can do something.”

Atl scrutinized the woman’s face. She analyzed the stern line of her mouth, the gray of her hair. Elisa said the words but she didn’t mean them. Elisa was pretending, and Atl knew the deck was stacked in her favor, that she need only find the right words.

“I’ve come for your help. My mother would have … well, if she were alive, she might have come to you herself,” Atl said. “I didn’t know where else to go and she told me that you were the only person she trusted in the whole world. She absolutely trusted you.”

That was not exactly what Atl’s mother had said. No. She’d said that Elisa was like all other humans: a weak fool, predictable and simple. A useful fool, at times. And that if things should worsen Atl would do good to find her because she was not crafty enough to betray anyone and sufficiently nostalgic to remember her years as a vampire’s assistant fondly.

Elisa was leaning forward. Her mouth opening a little, almost as if she was hesitating to ask a question.

Atl lowered her gaze, focusing on her hands.

“She said you were like a sister to her. That’s why I came.” Atl listened to the tick of a clock upon the wall, waiting patiently. Elisa shifted in her seat and sighed. She had her.

“What you ask is not achieved quickly,” Elisa said. “Fake passports, fake ID papers … And the car, of course. I suppose I’ll have to drive you across. It might take me a few days. I can’t produce this stuff out of thin air.”

“I can manage to survive for a few days.”

“I said it might,” Elisa cautioned her. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it. Security gets tighter each day. No one wants more vampires in their territory anymore. Most governments consider you a plague, you know? Have you heard how they’re dealing with your lot in the U.K.? They’ve now got a police force dedicated to handling your kind.”

“Yeah, the Van Helsings. I heard that. They’re only in the large cities, though. Never fancied seeing London anyway.”

“They’ve had their powers extended, just a few weeks ago.”

“We’ve been around for a long time,” Atl said. “We’ll be around for a while longer.”

“You’ve also been hunted for a long time. For a reason.”

Mother had told her that in the old days, before the Europeans washed up on the coast of Veracruz, when her kind were priestesses, the Great Temple ran red with rivulets of blood, offerings of hearts and heads to the gods. The bodies of sacrificial victims tumbled down the steps of the temple. The people below stabbed, pierced, and bled themselves in sacrifice. They were not a plague, nor vermin, nor common killers that hid in the shadows. Not the Tlahuelpocmimi. Not her family.

“So we have been hunted,” Atl replied coolly. “Yet despite your greater numbers, you humans haven’t quite figured out how to get rid of us.”

“One of these days, maybe.”

Atl decided she did not want to get into this conversation. It would lead nowhere and she was tired.

“I’ll need two sets of IDs,” Atl said instead.

“Will he also be going with you?” Elisa pointed at Domingo, who was sitting very still and quiet in his chair.

Atl glanced at the boy. “Yes. He’s human, though.”

“I can tell. Do you have a passport?” Elisa asked.

“No, I don’t, miss,” Domingo said politely.

“He has no fixed address,” Atl said.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Domingo, miss.”

“Domingo, if you go south with this girl you might get into a lot of trouble.”

Elisa again sounded like a schoolteacher when she spoke, warning a kid about the dangers of doing drugs. Atl scoffed.

“I’d like to see Guatemala. If it’s okay with you,” Domingo replied.

Elisa nodded. Her expression was skeptical. She let out a bitter sigh. “Stand against the wall; I need to take your photo.”

Atl went first, her eyes wide open as the flash went off. Then it was Domingo’s turn. Elisa muttered to herself and sat behind her desk again, shaking her head.

“I need to get in touch with someone,” Elisa said. “Will you two be all right until next Thursday?”

“Yes,” Atl replied. “What time should we come back?”

“Not here. There’s a bar in Plaza Garibaldi, the Tenampa. Meet me at ten.”

“We will.”

Elisa tapped her fingers against the desk. Their meeting had clearly concluded and Atl pushed her chair back.

“Who killed her?” Elisa asked, just as Atl opened the door.