Flaca, Luca, and Rocky glanced around to see what they were staring at and exchanged confused looks.
But Omar was zeroed in on Yadriel. “What?” he asked.
Yadriel blinked. “What?”
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” Yadriel said, way too quickly. He was starting to sweat.
“We just want to find him and make sure he’s okay,” Rocky said, hugging her skateboard tight to her chest. “We don’t want him to end up missing for good.”
“Just like the rest of them,” Luca added miserably.
Yadriel frowned. “Rest of them? What does that mean?”
“Bunch of street kids have been going missing—that’s three now, right?” Rocky looked to Flaca for confirmation, who nodded.
“Three missing kids?” Maritza repeated.
Luca pressed his palms against his eyes. Yadriel caught a glimpse of his dimpled chin before Omar stepped in front of him, blocking Luca from view.
“That’s nothing new,” Omar insisted. “Kids go missing all the time, just no one notices ’cause they’re already living on the streets, or their parents threw them out.”
Flaca flinched.
“Yeah, but they all went missing in the same area—around Belvedere—and all been labeled runaways,” Flaca said. Her fingernails dug into the crook of her elbow. “Whoever took them probably took Jules, too.”
“They’re worrying too much about me and need to be worrying about themselves,” Julian spoke up, walking closer to the group. “They need to go somewhere more safe than this,” he said, thrusting his arms out.
“Is there somewhere safe you guys can ride this out?” Yadriel asked.
“Usually, when stuff goes down, Rio takes us in,” Flaca said in a small, crestfallen tone.
“There’s gotta be somewhere else!” Julian fumed, his patience, once again, wearing thin.
“There’s nowhere else you can stay?” Yadriel prompted.
“Not everybody’s got places they can run off to when they’re in trouble,” Omar sneered in a way that made it seem like he thought Yadriel was gloating.
It caught him off guard. “There’s got to be someone,” Yadriel said with a shake of his head. “What about your parents? Your families?”
“We’re it,” Omar snapped, gesturing between himself and his friends. “We take care of each other.” He stood tall, his chin jutting out stubbornly.
“Blood of the covenant,” Omar told Yadriel, holding his hands out as his sides.
Julian sighed and said in a defeated tone, “Is thicker than the water of the wound.”
“Is thicker than the water of the wound,” Yadriel repeated automatically. His eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced to Julian, barely able to keep himself from correcting him for yet another malapropism. Yadriel was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed that Luca, Flaca, Rocky, and Omar were all staring.
“What?” Omar hissed.
Yadriel jumped, turning his attention back to them. Their expressions were all varying degrees of shock and confusion. “What?”
“What did you just say?” Flaca asked, staring at him like she’d seen a ghost.
“Uh—” Yadriel rushed for a coherent reply. “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” he said.
“No, you said wound,” Rocky insisted.
“Did I?” A nervous laugh bubbled in his throat.
“Shit, you weren’t supposed to say that!” Julian barked.
Yadriel scowled at him. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose.
“What do you keep looking at?” Omar demanded.
Yadriel backed up. “I—uh—”
“That’s what Jules always says,” Luca said, confused.
“How did you know to say that?” Omar pressed.
“Don’t tell them!” Julian shouted, his whole body flickering like lightning behind storm clouds.
Yadriel couldn’t help but look in his direction when Julian’s voice cut through his ears so sharply. He wanted to tell him of course he wasn’t going to tell them. Yadriel wasn’t going to out Julian as being dead if he didn’t want him to, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to out himself as being able to see spirits—
“HEY!”
Yadriel’s eyes snapped right back to Omar.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Omar took another step forward.
Donatello and Michelangelo immediately lowered their heads, deep growls rumbling in their chests. Their jowls pulled back, baring their teeth in warning.
“Yads,” Maritza said, eyes wide with alarm as she gripped their leashes.
“Don’t tell them!” Julian repeated angrily.
Too many people were talking at once. It was overwhelming. Panic clawed up Yadriel’s throat.
Flaca and Rocky backed up. Omar dragged Luca behind him.
Yadriel burned under each set of eyes.
He didn’t mean to freak them out; he was just trying to help, and the dogs were only trying to protect him and Maritza. This was quickly spiraling out of his control.
“How did you know to say that?” Omar shouted.
Maritza tried to pull the dogs back.
Flaca tugged on Omar’s arm.
Yadriel fumbled, willing himself to just say something to cover up his mistake. “I— He—”
“LISTEN TO ME!” Julian bellowed. He grabbed his skateboard from the couch and heaved it over his head with both hands before slamming it down. The wood cracked like lightning against the pavement, echoing through the underpass and straight through Yadriel’s bones.
Everyone jolted. Donatello and Michelangelo whimpered, cowering as Maritza tried to regain control and not get knocked over.
The skateboard landed upside down, the wheels spinning.
Julian stormed through the group and tore off up the stairs, a blast of cold following in his wake. It kicked up dirt and bit Yadriel’s cheeks.
He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. Omar, Flaca, Rocky, and Luca had all converged, huddled together as they gaped at him.
Heat flooded Yadriel’s face. How had he screwed things up so badly?
“I—I’m sorry, I—”
Omar cut him off, pointing in the direction of the road. “Leave. Now.” His voice was a low growl.
“Yads,” Maritza warned, already backing up to the stairs, the dogs glued to her hips.
He saw their looks of shock and fear. Rocky squeezed a quaking Flaca, doing her best to look fierce, but it was a crumbling facade. Luca was barely visible around Omar, his eyes still stuck on the skateboard. “I—”
“NOW!” Omar shouted.
Yadriel flinched but quickly obeyed.
Maritza was already heading up the stairs, Donatello and Michelangelo pulling her along. As Yadriel hurried to catch up with her, all he could think about was Julian and his friends. Their faces. He wasn’t cut out for this. He’d only made things worse for everyone.
ELEVEN
“Well, that could’ve gone better,” Maritza said as she and Yadriel hurried to keep up with Julian. Donatello and Michelangelo trotted along happily on either side of her, as if nothing had happened.