On the third day after her father was seized with apoplexy they tried to move him and failed.
Their improvised stretcher was made of flour and bean sacks looped around two pieces of wood with rope, with crosspieces nailed to the poles. It was sturdy, and Montgomery and Lupe were strong enough to carry it and the doctor.
But when the time came to move her father, he seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. His face was flushed and his forehead hot to the touch. Carlota administered aconite to lower his blood pressure and sat next to his bed.
Montgomery had joked she should pray, and now she did, bowing her head and lacing her hands together. Lupe and Montgomery watched her with worry. After a few hours her father’s condition improved, and he slept soundly.
It was nighttime. Carlota went back to her room, and Lupe relieved her. When she walked down the hallway she heard Montgomery speaking in his room. Dear Fanny, he said. The door was closed, and he was speaking in a low voice. She shouldn’t have been able to hear him, but she did.
It was strange how her senses seemed to be growing sharper. Perhaps it was the fact that her father was no longer plying her with lithium and whatever other substances he thought might soothe her. Perhaps it was that a process that had started long ago only now fully came to bloom. But that strange dividing line inside her body, the crack that seemed to nestle at the center of her being, now felt deep and solid. A fault line, filled with dread and anger. Weighed with bone-combusting fury, her mouth was ready to open in a snarl.
She had to clench her fists tight and close her eyes.
It scared her, this capacity for strength, for violence. It also awed her.
Once inside her room Carlota divested herself of her clothes and stood before the mirror, naked—like Eve, like the painting in the chapel—and examined her body with the kind of care she had never examined it with before. She felt the muscles under her fingertips and the pulse beating at her wrists; she observed her eyes, glowing, in the semidarkness.
Her father had taught her to be meek. But her hands could pluck flowers or hurt a man.
Did she wish to hurt? No. Not Montgomery, not her father, not even Hernando Lizalde. Yet she might. And how strange it was to think of this possibility.
There were stories Ramona told of wizards who could change their skins and fly through the night. But Carlota was not like one of them. She couldn’t shed her skin at will; it was an uncontrollable transformation that rippled through her body.
It terrified her. She terrified herself. She changed into her nightgown and slid beneath the bedsheets, hiding like a child might hide from ghosts or chaneques.
On the fourth day after her father was seized with apoplexy, Lizalde and his men came. They made such a racket that even without her finely tuned ear, Carlota would have been able to hear them.
She was with Montgomery in the kitchen when they arrived, and he quickly walked out in search of his rifle. She followed him, clasping her left wrist with her right hand and pressing it against her chest, and for a minute or two she didn’t know what to say. Then she let her hands fall by her sides and breathed in.
“We don’t want them thinking we mean them any harm,” she said, practicing the calm she wished him to also convey. “Please, bring them to the sitting room. I asked you not to shoot before we have a chance to speak. Remember that.”
“Very well,” he said.
Lupe, who had also heard the noise, the banging and hollering, came into the sitting room and stood next to Carlota.
“Lupe, you should go to my father’s room. He might need you, and in case the men prove intractable you’d have a chance to run away,” Carlota said.
“I came back to be with you, Loti.”
“Don’t be stubborn.”
But Lupe wouldn’t move, and soon Montgomery returned, and with him came the Lizaldes and four of their men. Montgomery did not look uneasy, despite being outnumbered and the fact that they had apparently taken his rifle.
She saw Eduardo and her hands shook, but she clasped them together. Hernando Lizalde had a bandage on his cheek and glared at her. Isidro was not too pleased to see her, either.
“Fetch Moreau,” Hernando Lizalde ordered her. “We’ll need him here.”
“My father has taken ill. He is in bed and cannot rise.”
“How convenient.”
“If you wish me to take you to him, I will. But I do not lie,” she said, her voice still calm.
“Then let him lie in his sickbed, if that’s what he wants. I don’t care if he wishes to hide under the covers. We’ve come for my hybrids. Round them up.”
“They’ve left.”
“What do you mean they’ve left? How could they?”
“I opened the doors for them.”
“You better point me in their direction, then,” the irate man said. This time he had brought no riding crop with him, but his voice was a whip. “That is my valuable property you’ve released into the wild.”
“My father has a little money, which I can tender to you if you’ll leave us all at peace.”
Hernando Lizalde let out an irritated grunt. “Whatever pathetic sum Moreau has in his bank account cannot compare with the investment I’ve made. This is my house, these are my furnishings, and those hybrids remain my property.”
She glanced down, her lips pinched tight. “I cannot help you,” she said.
“I’ll beat the answer out of you.”
She said nothing to that and remained motionless, her hands knit together as if in prayer. This seemed to incense the man further, and he began swearing at her.
“Whore,” he said. “Filthy beast.”
“Damn your tongue, you pig!” Montgomery yelled and surged forward, fist in the air.
But Lizalde’s men leaped after him, and one of them swung Montgomery’s rifle against his back with such brutal force she thought the weapon might break. Montgomery let out a strangled cry and fell down.
“Don’t!” she said, but they ignored her. Two men had grabbed Montgomery and hauled him to his feet while a third one punched him in the stomach. Isidro seemed amused. She looked to Eduardo, who was observing the scene, impassive.
“Sir, please!”
He stared at her, green eyes sharp. “This is not necessary. Perhaps I might speak to her in private and find out more about the situation?” Eduardo asked, raising his voice against the tumultuous struggle.
The men stopped their beating and turned in Hernando Lizalde’s direction as if awaiting a cue. Montgomery glared at Eduardo, muttering a curse under his breath, and then he spat.
“Fine. Come on, out, all of you. Out,” Hernando Lizalde said, waving a hand.
“Should I stay?” Lupe whispered in her ear.
“No, it’s fine. Be careful,” she whispered back, squeezing her hand.
Lupe nodded and went with Montgomery and the rest of them. The doors closed. They were sealed in the room, the clock ticking on the mantelpiece. She stood straight, her whole body rigid, and her hands warm, like she was running a fever. Her heart was beating fast.
“I’m sorry about that,” Eduardo said. “The men were promised a fight and they’re eager to taste blood.”
“Are you eager for blood, too? Is that why you’ve come?”
“I wanted to see you again.”
She thought she had learned each and every one of his looks in the short time she had known him. Yet the way he walked toward her and the manner in which his eyes raked over her were different. Curious and alien.
“Your body is a perfect mimicry,” he said. “Like the chameleon that changes colors. I cannot pinpoint the animal part of you.”
“I am not a puzzle that is made of different pieces,” she said.
“Do my words offend you?”
“They do not please me.”
He was quiet, with that same inquisitive gaze, still trying to make sense of how she fit together.
“Where are the hybrids, Carlota?”
“Gone, forever.”
“They couldn’t have all vanished into thin air.”
She took a deep breath. “I know that at this point I cannot expect you to keep your promise to me. I will not demand marriage, nor Yaxaktun as a gift, nor the slightest show of affection. But I would hope that we might part amicably, despite what transpired the last time we met,” she said. “I do not know where the hybrids are. This is the truth. I have not lied to your father. I would ask, as a kindness to me, that you speak to him and convince him not to seek them out, wherever they may have gone.”
“There is every reason for us to go after them. Aside from the fact that they are our property, they pose a danger to us.”
“They do not pose a danger. I had hoped that we would all continue to live together at Yaxaktun. I know now that is impossible. We will vacate the house, I will tender the money I promised. But I beg of you, call off whatever hunt you have in mind. My father is terribly ill. I might soon be an orphan with no home and no one to turn to.”
He slid closer to her, so close she couldn’t help the nervous flit of her gaze. She turned her head away, her heart stuttering.
“Please, do not burden me with further misery. Please help me.”
“Carlota, you look near tears. Only a sadist would wish to see you weep. You’re too pretty for that. You must know that when I gazed at you the first time, I was lost.”
The last time they’d seen each other he’d looked at her with loathing and fear. But now his face reflected neither. It was as if he recalled their meeting by the cenote or the stolen hours of that night they’d spent together. His hands found her waist with certainty and tilted her face up to him. And her body in turn remembered the burning caresses he’d shared with her, and the memory of that delight made her open her mouth, kiss him back with the simple, frank sweetness she’d always bestowed upon him.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he replied.
“I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course I do,” he said with the same ferocity that had drawn her to him in the first place, which had the effect of only baffling Carlota further.
“You seemed so upset when you left. I thought—”
“I was upset. The doctor and you tried to deceive me.”
“But I didn’t!” she said vehemently. “My father kept many secrets from me. And I didn’t lie when I said I cared for you. I didn’t manufacture my love.”
“No, I don’t believe you did. I’ve thought about you and what we might do about this mess. Then I decided, why should it be complicated?”
“There’s nothing to be done. What other option do I have but to abandon Yaxaktun?”
“What would you do out there? The world is dangerous for a young woman such as yourself.”
She looked at him, mute with confusion.
“Carlota, my dear,” he said in a caressing tone. “I cannot let you go.”
Could he mean…did he mean his love was steadfast? Perhaps he wished to run away with her. Perhaps he’d conjured a clever solution to all their problems.
He held her tight, his lips gliding over her neck. She pictured not lonesome misery in her future, but a warm island of safety. She thought of the haven they might still build together, perhaps not at Yaxaktun, but somewhere else. She thought of all the hybrids left unharmed, of all of them happy. She allowed herself to dream of this. She inhaled, her lips parting.
“You’ll be my mistress at Vista Hermosa. It will be pleasant. My father has agreed to it. He was reluctant at first, but I talked him into it. A mistress is cleaner and safer than the whores in brothels, and the hybrids cannot bear children, meaning I’ll have no bastards.”
Eduardo had buried a hand in her dark hair. Now his grip tightened as she tilted her head and looked at him. “You cannot…I wouldn’t agree to that.”
“You said it yourself. You can’t expect me to marry you. It’s no perfect fairy tale, but we’ll make the most of it.”
“Neither would I expect such an arrangement.”
“Carlota, you will be safe and content in the countryside. I won’t mind spoiling you, and you in turn will be generous to me. It’s not unusual for a man to take a mistress, and it is definitely more than you would be able to hope for under the circumstances.”
Her fingers found purchase on his shoulder. “What would you do with the hybrids? If you had me, would you let them go?”
“Goodness, no,” he said with a smirk. “They’re ours to keep. Your father’s former assistant will take over the operations here. You’ll be more comfortable at Vista Hermosa, with me. Yes, I’ll be in Mérida for a few weeks at a time, but—”
She wrenched his hand away from her and took two steps back. “I do not wish to be your mistress, nor am I willing to live at Vista Hermosa. If you think this offer a kindness, then you are mistaken.”
“You’d refuse me.”
She felt as though there were a knot in her throat, and she swallowed. “I might agree to it, but only if you let the others be.”
“You think you can give me terms?” he asked, his voice turning rough. “You don’t have a choice.”
She closed her eyes, scalding tears threatening to drown her. But when she opened her eyes again she spoke without a hitch. “Then I’ll refuse you.”
With a violent movement he bent down and pressed her to him again, throwing her head back and savaging her lips. It startled her, and she froze in fury, feeling his tongue in her mouth, before regaining her wits and shoving him away. Eduardo stumbled back, bumping against the mantelpiece and accidentally knocking down the delicate clock that rested there. It fell with a resounding crash that made her yelp.
She stared at the ground and let out a soft oh. That clock had presided over each of her waking hours; its bells marked the rhythm of her days. The beautiful courting scene it showed had entranced her young eyes. The gentleman kissed the hand of the beautiful lady and above them the cherubs smiled their blessing at the couple.
But now it was shards on the ground, the mechanism of the clock lying naked and exposed.
“What have you done?” she asked in a murmur.
“I am trying to be good to you!” Eduardo yelled.
The doors to the sitting room flung open, and the men walked in again, weapons at the ready, throwing her hard looks. She noticed that Lupe’s and Montgomery’s wrists had been bound.
“What is this racket?” Hernando Lizalde demanded.
Eduardo ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed his wrist. “Nothing.”
“Has she told you anything useful?”
“No,” Eduardo muttered.
“Well, then, you better start talking, girl.”
“I do not know where they are. I’ve said so already,” she said, her eyes fixed on the broken clock.
“You’re a stubborn cat. Let’s see exactly how stubborn. Bring Laughton next to me,” Lizalde said, and two men shoved Montgomery forward.
Without further preamble Hernando Lizalde pressed the barrel of his gun against Montgomery’s cheek and stared at Carlota. She crushed a hand against her chest.
“It’s hard to miss at this distance.”
“Montgomery doesn’t know anything, either,” she said quickly. “We aren’t trying to lie to you.”
“No, you are trying to trick us.”
“I’m not. Truly, I’m not.”
“I don’t think you want your friend’s brains decorating these walls, do you? Where are the damn hybrids?!” he roared.
She couldn’t breathe again. Her warm hands were now burning, and she felt the tears searing a trail down her cheeks as she grabbed on to the settee and knelt on the ground with a sob.
She thought another fainting fit was coming upon her. Carlota opened her mouth and pressed a hand against her throat.
“I know where they went. I can take you,” Lupe said, surprising Carlota when she spoke, sounding resolute. “It’s not far.”
“At least someone has common sense around here,” Hernando Lizalde rumbled.
She hardly heard the rest of what they said. Her breath was shallow, and she clung to the settee, shivering.
“Eduardo, you’ll come with us. As will you, Laughton. I don’t trust you to leave you behind. Isidro, you’ll stay with Moreau’s daughter. I don’t want her running off. Well, what’s the matter with this bitch? Is she ill?”
“It’s her nerves,” Lupe replied, staring at her. “It will be fine, Loti.”
Carlota swallowed, the taste of bile in her mouth. Eduardo’s fingers closed around her arm as he helped her to her feet. She swayed, unsteady, and tried feebly to push him away, but her strength had drained from her body.
“Where is my gun with the ivory handle?” Hernando Lizalde asked. “I’ll want that.”
“I didn’t mean to yell at you. But don’t talk to me the way you did again,” Eduardo whispered, guiding her toward the doorway, where Isidro was standing. “I do love you, silly girl. Don’t you understand? We belong together.”
He tipped her head up and looked into her eyes, a confident smile on his lips.
She felt, as she stood there and looked into his beautiful, youthful face, another wave of nausea and recoiled from him in disgust when his hand brushed down her face. Carlota thought the fracture in her body might finally cleave her in two, but she did not tumble to the ground, instead stumbling forward as Eduardo pulled her with him.