Certain Dark Things(49)

“You’ve got to forgive the girl; she ain’t got no manners. I’m Mario. What can I help you with?”

“Guns,” Atl said.

The man gave a snort of laughter. “That’s a different one. Kids like you, they usually want pot.”

He probably thought them a couple of fools who were headed out to dance to cumbias and ruidosón. In the North the hot thing was to gather and dance at a slaughterhouse, the décor the carcasses of cows.

“You have them?” she asked.

“I have them,” the man said. “Something lightweight?”

“No. The most powerful one you’ve got; .454 Casull would be nice.”

The man whistled at her. “Damn. What you gonna shoot?” he asked.

“Polar bears.”

“A little girl like you and a big bear?”

“I’m not a girl,” she replied tersely.

The man chuckled. “Bring me the howdah and a box of bullets,” he told the woman.

The woman made a face, but returned with a box of bullets and a wooden box and placed them on the table between them. The man stood up and walked next to Atl, lifting the lid and handing her the weapon. It was a double-barrel pistol in glossy black.

“Inspired by British hunters who used weapons like this to hunt elephants and tigers. A modern take on it, but still very nice. I was going to sell it to one of my regulars, but seeing as you need to hunt polar bears”—the man gave her a smile—“I could be persuaded to change my mind. For the right price.”

“I’m very persuasive,” Atl said.

“Are you?”

“Sure,” Atl said, placing a wad of bills on the table.

“That don’t look too persuasive.”

Atl added two more bills to the pile of money.

“Well, what do you know. You were right. Can I also interest you in some pot?”

“We’re busy. But it was great meeting you,” Atl said, grabbing the weapon and the box of bullets. She had no desire for chitchat. Judging by the face of the red-haired woman, neither did she.

“Yeah,” Domingo said. “It was super great.”

It started to rain when they reached the street, a drizzle that could hardly be called rain, but Domingo still pulled up his hood. She was grateful for the drops splashing on her head. She took off her jacket, wrapped the gun and the box of bullets with it.

“Do you know how to shoot it?” Domingo asked.

“Sure I do.”

“You’ve owned many guns?”

She thought of Izel, her arm firm as iron as she aimed. First-born. Stronger, better than Atl at everything. “Not really. My sister did.”

“If you shoot a vampire, can the vampire die?”

They jaywalked their way across the street, moving fast.

“With regular bullets? No. But if they find me, it’ll be humans who come after me. Rodrigo can’t afford to bring vampires into the city.”

Unless Nick is with him, she thought. He probably is.

She’d asked for a powerful gun for this reason, just in case. It needed to have a kick in order to do real damage or it would be like throwing marbles at him. Last time they’d met she’d been lucky. She didn’t know if her luck would hold.

Atl frowned. She did not want to think about that now. They’d successfully contacted Bernardino and Elisa, procured a way out of the city, and evaded sanitation. So far, so good. It was not worth spooking herself over Nick and Rodrigo when they might never find her.

“Tell me more about the Jackal?” she asked, because Domingo had brought up the guy before and she was curious.

“He’s a dude that organizes dog fights and stuff.”

“Yeah, all right. How do you know him?”

Domingo took out a piece of gum and chewed it noisily. “He was a guy with the street kids I lived with, older. They call him the Jackal ’cause of the way he laughs. You had to do what he said. He’d give you candy to sell and take a cut. Or he’d send you to wash car windows at an intersection. When he wasn’t telling me to wash cars, he’d have me go to the place where he kept the dogs he used for fighting. I helped clean the cages.”

Domingo glanced at her from the corner of his eye. His voice had grown more hushed and now it was a whisper, though Atl could hear him well enough and see him also in the semidarkness of the streets.

“There was a girl, a street kid, Belén. The young girls, the pretty ones … he was always after them. Always trying to sleep with them. Belén, though, she was going out with me. She wasn’t … I mean, I dunno, she wasn’t a girlfriend girlfriend, but it was close enough. He gave her presents and he was real sweet to her.”

“What happened?”

“I told Belén she shouldn’t go with the Jackal, that he was nasty. The Jackal figured I was the one putting ideas into her head, you know, that she wasn’t shacking up with him because of me. So he decided to teach me a lesson.”

Domingo took a deep breath, as though he were about to dive underwater. “He told me my meddling was costing him some fun times with Belén and that I’d have to pay him for causing him grief. He said I was such a damn talker, talking Belén’s ear off, that maybe I should put my mouth to good use. He told me I should get on my knees and kiss his shoes. He made a big show of it, told everyone to watch as I did it. Said he’d have his friends beat me if I didn’t.