“Good,” Atl said. “Do you have a room or are you going to take the bed? I plan to sleep there.”
She pointed at a large chest sitting at the foot of the bed. Domingo supposed that Atl could fit inside it, although it wouldn’t be too comfortable.
“’Cause it’s a small space?”
“Yes,” she said.
“I guess it’s better than a coffin. Less morbid.”
She smiled, went toward the edge of the bed, and lifted the chest’s lid.
“Atl, wait,” he said, raising a hand, as if to signal her to remain still.
“What is it?”
He thought about what Bernardino had said about hunger and he also thought about the pretty shape of her mouth, and although he didn’t quite remember what he was going to ask, he realized he had a different question entirely.
“When we met, you said you hadn’t killed people. But you’ve killed a bunch of people in the past couple of days. Did you lie to me?”
“I thought you’d be scared if I told you,” she replied.
“It’s scary, all right. But you could have explained.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because of the way you are looking at me.”
“I’m just looking at you, that’s all. It’s nothing weird. It doesn’t change stuff. We’re still friends.”
Atl gave him an angry huff and crossed her arms.
“Who’d you kill?”
“What do you care? It doesn’t change stuff,” she replied, mocking him.
“I’ve seen things. From your memories. It’s ugly. I know it’s ugly, I’m just asking.”
“What do you really want to know?” she said, her voice harsh and unpleasant. She had not asked a question. It was a challenge.
He realized he should keep his mouth shut and just let her be. He realized Bernardino was probably right. Domingo walked toward her, brushed her arm, gently seeking her attention.
“Atl, just tell me,” he said. “Please?”
“You’ll see me as a monster.”
“No.”
“Of course you will. You’ll be repulsed and I’ll deserve it. I am a dishonorable coward and an idiot.”
He reached out his hand and touched her cheek, and, thankfully, there was a confidence to the movement of his hand that he had not thought he possessed. Atl held his gaze, but made no attempt to move away or closer to him. He tilted his head slightly and planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth, very brief, like the question mark at the end of a sentence.
It was probably unfair of him to do a thing like that when she was tired and injured, but he had no idea what was going to happen the next day. Things were crazy, with people trying to kidnap them and kill them. God knew if he’d ever get a chance later. Maybe she wouldn’t like it and she would get mad at him, and he wouldn’t blame her if she did.
Atl didn’t seem angry, though. She looked lost.
“I killed two vampire boys and a pregnant vampire. And then, later, I killed an old man and a young woman. Humans, those two,” she said, her voice soft, like he hadn’t heard it before. “I’ve killed many people and I’ll continue to do it if I must.”
Domingo looked down at her. Atl’s eyes were very dark, filled with something that seemed grim, close to resignation.
“But you are a good vampire,” he blurted out.
Of course, there was no such thing and he knew it even before he said it. But he liked to believe it. He liked to think that there were heroes and villains, he liked picturing Atl as a damsel in distress. He liked the black and white of the comic book panels, the simple speech bubbles above characters. Good vampires. Bad vampires. And she had to be good because she was pretty and young and his friend. Right?
“I needed to kill them. No. I wanted to. I thought about killing you, too. More than once. You understand now?” she asked, the softness of her voice turning to iron. “No, of course you don’t. I can’t expect you to.”
Atl pulled away from him and crossed the room, to stand by a window, though she could see nothing outside since the curtains were drawn.
Words failed him. Not that he’d ever been particularly good with them. He stood in the middle of the room trying to make sense of everything, and though his brain had arranged the pieces very neatly, his heart was in a complicated knot.
“I understand.”
She gave him an exasperated sigh. “You could leave, you know?” she said, looking at him over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
“I’ve known that all along.”
“Maybe you should go.”
There is a point when a man may swim back to shore, but he was past it. There was nothing left than to be swallowed by the enormity of the sea. Anything. He wanted her to know he didn’t care and he’d give her anything. “Not now.”
“Why not?” she asked, sounding exasperated.
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
She held his gaze for a beat and then she smiled, just a tiny bit of a smile, and he thought he’d never seen anything as glorious as that smile, ever, and who cared about the rest if he could look at it a little longer.
CHAPTER
28