Certain Dark Things

“No retaliation?” Atl repeated. “They sent us her damn head!”

They hadn’t even bothered returning the remains of their two cousins who had been with their mother. Rumor had it they’d fed the corpses to their dogs.

They did write a note to go with the head: GODOY CONTROLS THIS TOWN, BITCHES.

Izel’s nails were pressed against the glass; she tapped them once, twice, thrice and raised her head to look at her sister. Her eyes were two pieces of onyx. “They’ll send us more heads if we attack them. Our cousins, our aunts—”

“Our cousins, our aunts, they want revenge.”

“Revenge is too costly.”

Atl scoffed and stared at her sister. She acted so strong, so sure of herself, and now here she was, unable to make what should have been a simple decision.

“You think if we stay here, with our arms crossed, they’ll magically leave us alone? They took out Wu last year and they’ve kicked out two of the Nachzehrer clans. If we don’t make a stand now we’ll be next.”

“I think I can probably negotiate a solution,” Izel said.

“You’d speak to them? You’d barter with the men who killed our mother?” Atl asked, aghast. “They broke the rules.”

Atl inched closer to her sister. The rage she felt could have filled the stupid tank, the whole damn room, while Izel looked indifferent, as if their mother were on vacation and everything was fine.

“We are in a vulnerable position. My resources are limited.”

“To hell with your resources. What about the family?” Atl asked. “Our hearts want nothing but a war death.”

It was a line from a Nahuatl poem they had both learned as children. But Izel, rather than looking uplifted by the words, seemed disgusted.

“You don’t give one shit about this family,” Izel said. “You never have.”

“And you’re probably glad Mother’s dead so you can boss us around like you’ve always wanted,” Atl said, her voice rising, shrill and strange, like she’d never heard it before. She was at the edge of panic.

Izel slapped her hard, her ring cutting Atl’s mouth. Atl tasted her own blood and glared at her sister. Izel turned back to the axolotl tank, while Atl grabbed her jacket and barged right out of the room, hurrying downstairs.

Three days later, Atl killed two of Godoy’s nephews and his favorite concubine. It was easy. They had a couple of bodyguards with them in the apartment, but the guards were human and there were old codes against slaying enemies’ wives or concubines. They were not expecting Atl, safe in their expensive nest. Godoy had violated those same codes when he killed Atl’s mother on neutral ground, but apparently he feared no retaliation.

She pounced on the guards from above, dispatched them in a minute, and then dosed the vampires with UV light. They shrieked and shrieked, but she bound them tight and injected them with allicin. They quieted down after that, and she continued cutting them with ease. She chopped off the boys’ heads. It was messy work, although the boys were small—just teenagers—and that helped. The concubine was considerably older and pregnant. Atl stabbed her in the womb twelve times. The woman pleaded for mercy, but Atl grabbed one of the guns that the guards had been carrying and blew off most of the vampire’s head.

She convulsed for a long time before dying. Atl watched the whole performance, impassive. She’d never killed a vampire before and had only harmed a couple of humans one other time, at a club. But it felt natural and she knew she’d behaved the way she was supposed to. She felt as though she’d regained what she’d lost. Dishonor. Honor.

She told Izel what she’d done right away.

“They’ll come for us,” her sister said. “They’ll come for both of us. How could you?”

“The family wanted it. Mazatl and Nahui and the others, they told me so,” Atl said.

It was true. She hadn’t lied when she said her cousins and aunts desired revenge. They had expressed deep reservations toward Izel. Cousin Nahui had even told Atl, point-blank, that leading required certain skills and Izel might not have them. Mazatl had brought up their parentage, reminding everyone that Izel and Atl were the offspring of a weak man who had let the family down.

Atl ought to have spoken in her sister’s favor, assuaging any fears, but instead the cries stoked her anger. Someone, they said, had to take decisive action for this terrible crime, which had not only left them in shame, but marked them as vulnerable and incapable of controlling their territory as well.

Your name is Atl, her cousin Nahui had told her. Why are you not the ātl tlachinolli, the water that scorches the earth? Instead you behave like a gentle stream that laps the ankles, licking Izel’s feet.

If Atl didn’t push back the family was going to fall apart at the seams: the cihuātlahtoāni could be repudiated. Atl was not going to be branded with such a seal, her lineage shamed and shamed again.

Silvia Moreno-Garcia's books