Silvia Moreno-Garcia Introduces Warring Vampires to Mexico City in Certain Dark Things

Certain Dark Things, Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s latest tale of warring vampires in Mexico City, is a finely stitched Halloween costume, deriving most of its horror and pleasure from the very human bones beneath it.
The world of Certain Dark Things proves an uncanny one, close to our own but just different enough to cause goosebumps. The turbulent 1960s are made more so by humanity’s discovery that vampires—a panoply of them, from the Dracula-esque Nachzehrer and Necros to wild Canadian Wendigos to the Tlahuihpochtin, winged warrior-priestesses and contemporaries of the Aztecs—are quite real. The expected political and social upheaval occurs, with some nations creating vampire-free zones, forcing them into ghettos and reservations or passing regulation to keep tabs on them, while others, including Mexico and various South American countries, do little to stem the tide. Attracted by these comparatively friendly stances, waves of vampires head to the New World, joining the species already there, an uneasy cohabiting that turns particularly pitched in Mexico.
Domingo, a trash picker in Mexico City, finds himself by way of a chance encounter in the middle of a vampire vendetta. He meets Atl, the daughter of a Northern drug queen and Tlahuihpochtli, in the subway, eventually forming an important bond as her blood donor and emissary. On the run for the relative safety of Guatemala, Atl is a refugee in a brutal drug war between a cartel of Necros. Atl and Domingo must avoid the police and sanitation patrols of the city as well as police detective-cum-vampire killer Ana Aguirre, human gangs bent on keeping the bloodsuckers out, and the Necro cartel’s hit squad, headed by the human Rodrigo and Nick, a vampire of the comme il faut sexy and savage mode who could have walked right out of Bret Easton Ellis’ The Informers.