Black Dog(122)

She moved a hand – in a way, it seemed again like she only watched some other girl move her hand, someplace far away where nothing mattered. So, she wasn’t afraid. Not really afraid. The girl who was afraid, that wasn’t exactly her. That was why she could move her hand and open the car door and slide off the seat and down to the broken pavement of the road. The dark and the winter air rushed in at her, but it wasn’t really her who trembled with the cold.

She gripped the aparato tightly in both hands and stepped around the car, holding it in front of her, like a weapon or a shield. Or an offering. It glimmered in the dark. She felt the fire that hid behind and within the shadows of the black dogs rise up in answer, almost visible but not quite, at least not to her. The earth seemed to shudder under her feet. Though maybe that was just part of the ruined church settling. But it didn’t feel that way. To her, it felt like the earth might crack open at any moment until the chasm that lay not ten feet away finally gaped wide enough to swallow the whole world.

Vonhausel was still smiling. If he thought the earth might crack wide open, the idea didn’t bother him. He stared at her. Somewhere close by a black dog snarled, a long low vicious sound. Everything Natividad looked at seemed both far distant and incredibly vivid. The world seemed to dip and sway. All around her, the air seemed to waver like a curtain, ready to rip in half and reveal the real truth behind the looming shadows of buildings and broken church and shattered pavement.

“Well, well,” Vonhausel said. His voice was smooth, relaxed, even pleased in a horribly vicious way. He spoke with a faint accent that didn’t sound American. It might have been German, but maybe not. He said, “How very unexpected. Can this possibly be Concepción’s daughter? Running from Dimilioc straight to me. Rather like leaping from a burning building directly into the flames below.” He looked her up and down, amused and contemptuous.

“Stay away!” Natividad said breathlessly. “Stay away from me!” She jabbed her aparato para parar las sombras at him with a short, stiff little movement.

Vonhausel tilted his head, casting a quizzical glance at her aparato. “What have you brought me?” He lifted his gaze suddenly, caught her eyes as though doing so was a kind of attack.

Natividad felt that it was. She flinched and tucked herself against the side of the car. It took no effort to look like she was too frightened to answer.

“Do you think that will protect you?” Vonhausel asked her. “You little Pure bitches, you do amuse me. You always think so highly of yourselves. You are Concepción’s child, of course.” He paused, then, when Natividad said nothing, went on, “But your magic is weak, isn’t it? Or you were too stupid to learn what your mother might have taught you. What a disappointment to her you must have been. Though in the end even she died as easily as any other human. Though I admit that particular indulgence might have been rather short-sighted. I think you will be rather more useful to me than your mother.” He paused, studying her.

Natividad still did not answer. Despite his scorn, Vonhausel had not reached out to take the aparato away from her. She had expected him to grab it first thing. She had made it to attract him, to attract any really strong black dog. Maybe he was right about her after all – maybe she was stupid. She couldn’t have made it right. He didn’t even care about the aparato at all, he’d barely even noticed it, she had put herself in his hands for nothing – she hadn’t learned what her mother had needed to teach her–

“What is that?” he asked her, so suddenly that she jumped and bit her tongue. When she didn’t answer at once, he asked again, an impatient edge hardening his smooth voice, “Well, what? Speak, girl!”

“It’s… It’s a shield,” Natividad whispered. This had seemed much more believable when she’d just imagined herself answering some question like that, before she’d left her safe pink room at the Dimilioc house. She could read both anger and contempt in Vonhausel’s eyes, in the set of his mouth, but was that because he realized she was lying or just because he was a black dog? She said, not having to try to make her voice falter and fade, “My… My mother showed me. It’s for vampires really, only it’s the strongest thing I know how to make and I thought it would work…” She let her voice trail off into helpless silence.

There was still no clear sign that Vonhausel suspected that she was lying. Only there wasn’t any sign that he wanted the thing she’d made, either. He wasn’t even looking at it. He was studying her. She ducked her head to avoid meeting his unnatural gaze.