Certain Dark Things(74)

She was acutely aware of herself, of him. Having Bernardino around did not help, his eyes darting between Domingo and her with the expression someone might have when solving a crossword puzzle.

“It’s nearly ten o’clock. We need to talk to Elisa,” Atl said.

“You want to go to Garibaldi?” Domingo asked.

“Yes, of course I do. We have a meeting with her.”

“I can go by myself,” Domingo said. “You should stay here and rest.”

“I need to speak to her. I can’t just send you out, as if you were going on an errand.”

“But you’ve sent me on an errand before. You should—”

“I am not going to discuss this with you,” she said, cutting him off. She already had a headache and her arm was throbbing. She wanted very much to yell at him and tell him he had not been appointed her knight in shining armor.

“You look like shit. I bet you feel like it. You’re not strong enough to be running around the city,” he told her.

“I can take this. I don’t know if you’ve reali—” she began, unable to believe he was contradicting her.

“I’ll be going with you,” Bernardino said, interrupting her.

Atl stared at him.

“You will?” Domingo asked.

“You do have a point. Atl is not quite herself yet. She might need my strength.”

Domingo gave Atl a questioning look and she nodded stiffly. Despite her protestations she could feel her energy ebbing away and she had no desire to fight both of them on this point, damn them. But she’d have a chat with Domingo, later.





CHAPTER

30

It rained like a motherf*cker. Ana stared out the window while the other detectives typed on their computers. Several of them were probably playing online poker or watching porn. She doubted any one of them did any real work. Ana certainly couldn’t work, not today.

Castillo had screwed her over again. Now that the case had grown bigger, she wasn’t the main detective handling it. It had gone to Luna, and the fool was spending his time giving interviews, happy to be getting his name out there. Typical attention whore.

Ana smoked her cigarette and watched the rain fall, turning everything gray. They weren’t supposed to smoke inside the building, but it didn’t matter. Nobody enforced it.

Her phone rang.

“I’m feeling like we could use a talk,” Kika said. She sounded way too chipper considering the circumstances.

“I’m working,” Ana muttered.

“Take a break. There’s a Chinese café a few blocks from you, the Blue Lotus. You know it?”

“I’ve walked by it.”

“See you soon, doll.”

Ana opened the window and flicked the cigarette butt outside. She grabbed her umbrella and walked six blocks until she reached the ratty, narrow café that Kika had mentioned. Maybe it had once been a “Chinese café,” back in the ’40s, when such establishments—a cross between a bakery and a restaurant—proliferated and popped up through downtown Mexico City, but little remained of its heritage except for its name, written on a flickering neon sign. Inside, sad, sparse paper lanterns hung from the ceiling and a calendar proclaimed it was the Year of the Snake. She had the impression the calendar was wrong but she didn’t quite remember the Chinese zodiac.

Kika sat near the back. She smiled at her and handed her a menu that was bent and stained. Chop suey sat next to enchiladas, a cacophony of dishes with no rhyme or reason.

“How’s your day going?” Kika asked.

“Shitty. Did you see the news this morning?”

“How could I miss it? The words ‘psychopath vampire’ were splashed over El Universal,” Kika said, moving her hands as if she were holding an invisible newspaper.

Yep. That’s exactly what it had said. The reason why Castillo had dragged Ana into his office and yelled at her, quickly blaming her for the mess. If she’d only caught the rogue vampire quickly, none of this would have happened. He told her she obviously did not know her * from a good lead and would now be “assisting” another detective. He’d also accused her of tipping off the reporters about the story, when she knew without a doubt it had to have been one of the photographers, trying to make an extra buck by selling crime scene pictures, or a prick like Luna. Maybe both, in conjunction.

“I imagine it was as bad as the papers made it seem,” Kika said, glancing down at her own menu, running a finger down each item.

“Worse. A bloodbath. There’d been a fight, so you had the people who died during it and the people the vampire killed after. He was hungry and very pissed. He ate one guy’s face.”

“You have any witnesses? Anything?”

“I have a witness, a person who survived the mess. Apparently a bunch of entrepreneurial folks found Atl and, since she was injured, managed to lock her in a cell. They were making a deal with Nick. He was coming to collect her. She broke out, there was a big fight, and the result is I’m not sure whether she’s dead, he’s dead, or they’re both dead somewhere.”

Kids. They’d found a bunch of dead kids. And they were also chasing kids. Two deadly children, not much older than her own daughter.

A waitress arrived and gave them a tired glance as she pulled out her notepad.