Certain Dark Things(71)

She’d blown off half his jaw and a part of a cheek. The flesh was starting to knit itself but it looked raw, like a damn hamburger patty. Nick started spitting teeth onto the floor. Teeth and blood.

“It’s not a corpse buffet,” Rodrigo said. “We need to head back to the apartment.”

The boy Nick had bitten wasn’t dead yet, despite missing a good deal of his face. He moaned pitifully. In response, Nick bent down and savaged him further, tearing chunks of flesh with whatever teeth he had left. At this point he wasn’t really feeding, just giving shape to his rage.

“Nick.”

Nick sprang up and grabbed Rodrigo by the neck, holding him up. His nostrils flared and he growled. Rodrigo couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet. He hated the thought of dying in the middle of this filthy place, strangled by this boy vampire, so he steeled himself, pushing down his fear and instead glaring at the kid with as much venom as he could possibly muster.

Nick snorted and let go of him. Rodrigo rubbed his neck, wishing he could cattle-prod this twat while knowing it was impossible.

“Done with your tantrums? Then let’s move it.”

“Fine,” Nick said.

*

Vampire anatomy. One of those things you never expect to take an interest in when you join a gang, when you become their lackey. Though, to be fair, Rodrigo had always been interested in how cars worked, so it wasn’t that surprising he’d discovered how vampires worked too. It had come in handy a few times. This was one of them.

Nick hissed and complained, but Rodrigo was able to disinfect the wound, apply an ointment, and apply a dressing with ease. Then he had to pull several of Nick’s teeth. It was better this way. New teeth would come in quickly. If he left the banged-up ones in their places it would only slow down the process. When Rodrigo prepared a shot, Nick frowned.

“What’s that?”

“The painkiller. Do you want to feel the skin and muscles growing?”

“It’ll make me sleepy,” Nick complained.

God, what a whiner he was. “You need to sleep.”

“I don’t want to. I want to find her. You let her get away.”

Rodrigo didn’t bother to inform Nick that he was the fool who had lost a fight against the girl. He simply held the syringe up. “Would you prefer if I kissed it better?”

“Fuck you.”

They stared at each other.

“Do it,” Nick muttered. His voice sounded funny due to the damage to his face and Rodrigo almost wanted to smirk.

He injected Nick three times. The boy began lolling his head after the third shot and Rodrigo called for La Bola. Together, they carried Nick to his bedroom.

Rodrigo had a tremendous headache. He was exhausted. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, dragged himself to his bed, and fell asleep almost instantly.

When he woke up it was near dark. Rodrigo walked to the kitchen to check on their blood supplies. They were down to three bags. It wasn’t going to be enough, not with Nick in this state. He grabbed the phone and dialed a contact of his.

“I need more of the last delivery,” he said.

There was an uncomfortable pause. “You watched the news yet?”

“No.”

“Turn the TV on.”

Rodrigo grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels, stopping at a news station. They were showing footage of the outside of the factory where they’d been. The TV was on mute, but the words VAMPIRE ATTACK were superimposed upon the bottom of the screen.

“What does that matter?” Rodrigo asked.

“It’s gnarly, bro. The cops are looking for you.”

“What else is new?”

“Deep Crimson’s also looking for you. I don’t want no problems.”

“Price is not an issue.”

“Sorry, bro.”

His contact hung up. Damn it. Procuring blood would become a lot more difficult now. Nick was going to wake up with an appetite and all he had were three measly bags of blood. Of course, he only had three bags because the damn kid went through them like they were candy.

Shit.

He wanted to get into his car and drive away. Drive until he reached a solitary beach down the Pacific coast. Trade his suits for T-shirts and shorts. Rent a house. Adopt the anonymous, boring life of a retired old man.

He couldn’t.

Rodrigo took a deep breath.

He was used to solving problems. All that was required was a little creative thinking.

*

The woman called herself Dulce. He found her next to a bike repair shop, wearing a plastic, transparent poncho that allowed customers to see her underwear. She looked like she was in her midtwenties. Bubbly, though not pretty. She might have been attractive once, but time and drug use had left her with a weary, hardened look. Dulce told Rodrigo she really liked his car and suggested they go to a nearby motel—or they could do it right there in the car. He said he wanted her to go back to his place. She balked at that, but then he offered her a bit more money and told her he was doing this as a surprise birthday present for his friend, who was feeling a bit down. Her accent was northern and he added he was originally from Monterrey.

That seemed to calm her down. On the ride back, she expressed her love of cumbias and Rodrigo replied at the appropriate intervals. Once inside the apartment, he quickly guided her to Nick’s room. Nick was sprawled over the bed, his face buried in the pillows, and Dulce stood by the door, smiling.