She was burning with fever.
He thought of the vampire comic books he’d read and the news stories he’d watched, but none of them had talked about sick vampires. Dead vampires, yeah. Dead by stake to the heart, or decapitated, or a bunch of other things. But sick vampires … he had no idea what was happening to Atl and he thought she was getting worse. Her skin was sticky with sweat and her breath was very fast, as though she’d just been running.
She needed to go to the emergency room. She needed a doctor. But if Domingo took her to a doctor they’d call sanitation, the cops.
He knelt down next to the bed, touching her arm. He noticed she was wearing the fancy watch he’d given her and he ran his hands over it.
Domingo swallowed and unbuckled the watch, stuffing it into his pocket.
He ran a hand through his hair.
“Stay with her,” he ordered the dog.
*
It was only ten o’clock, early for a party, but Quinto’s parties started as early as possible and ended late the next morning, so by the time Domingo slipped into the apartment a good-sized crowd had already gathered. All the windows were open to let in the night air. The music was loud and lively. He pushed his way through the living room and noticed that Belén was sitting with the Jackal. He pulled his hood up, hoping neither one noticed him, and managed to stumble into the kitchen, where Quinto was leaning against the sink, drinking a beer.
“Hey, you came!” Quinto said, clasping his shoulder. “Do you have a drink? Is your friend here too?”
“Quinto, I need a favor, all right man? I need you to come and help me with an injured dog,” Domingo said.
“A dog? Right now? Man, you’re crazy. I’ll check it out tomorrow.”
“Look, I can pay you,” he said, tossing him the watch. “It’s worth a lot of money.”
Quinto inspected the watch carefully. He frowned, giving Domingo a suspicious look. “How’d you get something like that?”
Domingo bit his lip and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter how. Come on, man. Please.”
“I don’t know.”
“We can take your car. It’ll be quick. It’s over at my place.”
“Maybe later.”
“Now, man,” he said, glaring down at Quinto, who was on the tiny side and generally reluctant to confront anyone.
“Shit, dude. Okay, fine. I’ll look at your damn dog,” Quinto said, gulping his beer and tossing the bottle in the sink.
They had to cross the living room to reach the door. Domingo saw that Belén and the Jackal had caught sight of him this time, and were staring in his direction.
“Hurry up, before the Jackal decides to talk to us,” Domingo said. Nothing good could ever come when the Jackal took an interest in you and Domingo didn’t need no shit that night.
Domingo shoved Quinto out the door and they rushed down the stairs.
Quinto’s car was an old, white Volkswagen beetle from the ’60s. A damn classic, Quinto said. As soon as they slid into the vehicle, Quinto blasted the tired radio with heavy metal songs in German. The music was so loud it didn’t allow for any conversation, and Domingo was grateful for that. Once they reached the tunnels, though, Quinto started humming, as was his custom.
The humming stopped as soon as they stepped into the room and Quinto took a look at his bed, which was stained with many strokes of red.
“Shit, man! What you do? Kidnap and kill a chick?”
The Doberman, which was sleeping by his mistress’s feet, raised his head when Quinto screamed.
“We had an accident. I need you to help her out.”
“What damn kind of accident? Jesus,” Quinto said.
“Just … will you look at her? She’s running a fever.”
Quinto grimaced, but sat next to Atl and rolled her onto her back. He jumped to his feet as soon as he saw her face and frankly Domingo couldn’t blame him, ’cause she looked pretty bad. She’d coughed more blood and her chin was streaked black. Her features were not wholly human. There was something of that bird of prey look about her; she seemed deformed, alien. It reminded him of a picture he’d seen of an animal called a harpy and also of someone named Medusa, and still there was a bit of beauty in the strangeness, though, just like there’s always a kind of beauty about a wild animal.
“What the hell?!” Quinto screeched. “She’s not—she’s, she’s—”
“She’s a vampire and she’s hurt,” Domingo said, cutting him off. “I need you to help her.”
“Help her? No way, man! No way!” Quinto said, waving his hands wildly.
“Yes way! Right now.”
“What do I know about vampires?”
“Well, you patch up them dogs.”
“Two years of veterinary school, dude!” Quinto said, holding up two fingers for emphasis. “That’s not the same as a vampire. No. Take your damn watch back.” Quinto tossed the watch at him.
Domingo caught it and held it tight. He took a deep breath. “If you don’t help me out, that dog’s gonna kill you,” Domingo said. He was a bit surprised to notice how calm he sounded.