Bane of Blood: La Gorgona

III, Part 36

Alejandra giggled, as if Fernando were joking. "What do you like then? Tell me."

"Order," he said. "Reason. I like for things to be in their rightful place. For people to behave like rational beings, not dumb blundering animals. When they don't, it irritates me. It should irritate everyone. But it doesn't. And that irritates me all the more. On the whole, I find the human race to be a gross disappointment."

Alejandra frowned, not knowing what to say to this. Fernando didn't blame her. Despite her blind expectation that the truth will out, he didn't doubt she'd been spared her fair share of it. She was beautiful, and the truth was not.

He watched her blue eyes shutter themselves to the harshness of his words even now. He watched her reformulate this bit of ugly sincerity into something more palatable to her own sense of self. Birdlike, she cocked her head at him.

"You have a woman, don't you?"

"No," Fernando replied.

"But there's a woman you love, isn't there?"

Fernando's eyes slid away. "I'm not sure."

"She doesn't love you back, though."

"No," he said, as if musing aloud. "She never did."

Alejandra sighed. "It's always like that, isn't it?"

Fernando laughed so sharply at this flippant response that he startled her. Recovering, she took him by the hand.

"Forget about her. Come dance with me."

Fernando shook his head. "I can't."

"Forget," she said, teasing, "or dance?"

"Both," he replied with a grin, tugging free of her. "I need to be getting on."

"Where are you going?"

"The Red Room."

"The Red Room?" she blurted, indignant. "That's not a nice place."

"Someone's expecting me there."

Alejandra glared. "Who?"

Fernando smiled slightly, wondering that himself. Not quite answering her question, he said, "My cousin's brother said he'd be there."

He half expected her to retort sassily, 'You mean your cousin, then?' But this was expecting too much.

Alejandra just shook her pretty head instead. "You don't want to go there. It's not a place nice guys want to go."

"I must not be very nice, then," Fernando said roguishly, "because now I really want to go." As Alejandra scowled, he hooked his thumb back at Pepe, who'd been frowning toward them. "My friend over there is nice, though. You want to know why I didn't buy you a drink earlier? Because he's the man, and he's only got eyes for you. He doesn't say much because he doesn't need to. I can tell by that glare of his that I've got about a minute to get out of here before he kicks my ass."

Alejandra squinted toward Pepe, dubious. But true enough he wasn't staring in the direction of any other girls in the club. The dimness and distance served him well, transforming his gangliness and reticence into an attitude that could pass for menacing. In terms of raw appearances, he was at least as good-looking as Chico.

"What's his name?" Alejandra asked.

"He goes by Gordo."

"Gordo?" Alejandra's lips pursed. "He's skinny as a rail."

"Not everywhere," Fernando said, smirking at her. When she acted like she didn't know what he was implying, he said, "What I mean is, he has a big, fat cock. Comprende?"

Alejandra shot him a glare. "What a rude thing to say," she said, crossing her arms at the chest. "I thought you were a gentleman, but I guess I was wrong. Have fun at The Red Room, Franco."

Turning up her nose at him, she stalked away. Fernando was nearly at the stairs when he glanced over to see her dragging Pepe out to the dance floor.