“Not funny.” Humiliation and guilt warred in Yadriel, but he was also pissed at Julian. His emotional outburst didn’t sit right with Yadriel. Yelling and getting mad was one thing, but acting out violently was a whole other beast.
Julian refused to slow down or wait, causing Yadriel and Maritza to chase after him through the streets. A line of sweat trickled down Yadriel’s spine under his hoodie. October in Los Angeles was not cool enough, and his binder wouldn’t let him breathe deep enough for this.
They crossed the street to the iron gate of the cemetery. He didn’t need Julian storming in and attracting the attention of the brujx and the other spirits.
Yadriel jogged forward, catching up to Julian’s pace. “Hey!” he called ahead. “What kind of machismo bullshit was that?”
He was angry, and Julian’s outburst had scared him, which only made him more angry.
Julian turned so abruptly, Yadriel reeled back a step.
“You were going to tell them I’m dead!” he fumed, teeth bared. Cold wind whipped around him, sending his jacket flapping against his sides.
Yadriel stood his ground under Julian’s lethal stare. Even though instinct told him to back away. “No, I wasn’t!” he shot back, trying to channel as much fierceness as he could.
Julian’s laugh was sharp, his grin sarcastic and untrusting.
It got under Yadriel’s skin, which was probably the point. It took every bit of patience he had left to not lash out in return. “You told me not to tell them, so I didn’t.”
He met Julian’s glare defiantly. “I wouldn’t,” he emphasized.
Julian’s snarl wavered for a moment. His stare was intense, questioning, and calculating.
Yadriel met it unflinchingly. “I don’t out people,” he told him.
Slowly, the harsh lines of Julian’s expression began to melt. The wind calmed. The chill in the air ebbed. It was Julian who looked away first.
The tension in Yadriel’s shoulders relaxed.
For a long moment, Julian stared out at where the sun had set behind the rolling hills.
In the back of his mind, Yadriel knew it would be dark soon. If they didn’t get moving, he’d be in trouble with Lita and his dad. But, right now, there were more important matters at hand than missing curfew.
“I just wanted to give them a clean break,” Julian said quietly.
Yadriel didn’t think that was possible. He didn’t see how anyone could get a clean break from Julian once they entered his orbit.
Himself included.
Yadriel studied Julian’s profile. The worry in his brow, his strong nose, and the stubborn curve of his chin. His cheeks were flushed, the muscles of his jaw working. The waning light washed everything in cool pastels. It was like Julian had been painted against the city in shades of silvery blue. A watery reflection.
He was a bit of an ass. Headstrong, impulsive, and definitely obnoxious. But Yadriel could see how ferociously he cared about the people who were important to him. He believed Julian would die for his friends.
He probably had.
“I know you don’t want to hurt your friends,” Yadriel said, in a gentler tone this time. “Or your brother.” Julian glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “But this isn’t just about you anymore.”
Julian looked ready to argue, so Yadriel hurried on before he got the chance.
“You were attacked last night, and whoever did it killed you; we know that much. But then you—your body—completely vanished, without a trace,” he explained. “A couple of hours after that, Miguel died, and now we can’t find him, either.”
At first, he hadn’t put the pieces together. Not until they talked to Julian’s friends and they told him what Julian couldn’t remember, or didn’t know. They filled in the gaps, and the picture being painted was frightening.
“Miguel was supposed to be patrolling the cemetery, and we found your necklace in the cemetery,” Yadriel stressed, pulling out the St. Jude pendant from under the neck of his hoodie.
Julian’s attention went right to it, eyebrows tipping. His fingers went to his own neck, as if yearning to have it back.
“That can’t be just a coincidence. Whatever happened to you probably happened to Miguel, too.” Yadriel sighed, his hand falling back to his side. “There’s something bigger going on here, but I don’t know what.”
He hesitated, anticipating Julian’s reaction before he could even get the words out. “If we could just go to your place—”
“I don’t want to go see my brother,” Julian snapped.
Fatigue and frustration flared. “I know, but—”
Maritza stepped forward. “If we could get one of your shirts or something, we could try tracking your body down,” she suggested with a small lift of her shoulder. “I mean, Donatello and Michelangelo didn’t pass the tracker test, but it’s all we’ve got to work with.”
Julian looked between her and the dogs, not seeming the least bit convinced.
Yadriel, on the other hand, had hope. “We could give it to them and go back to where you got jumped,” he said. “They could pick up the scent and lead us to your body, and maybe Miguel’s, too.” It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was at least somewhere to start. And it was better than standing around doing nothing.
He tried again. “If we could just talk to Rio for a second—”
Julian growled, looking just as irritated as Yadriel felt. “I don’t—”
“We could ask if he’s heard anything. Maybe the police did find your body and contacted him,” Yadriel continued. “While we’re there distracting him, you could grab something of yours for the dogs to get your scent. I mean, you’ve been practicing your haunting skills, right?” he pointed out, thinking back to the mess Julian had created in his room.
Julian leaned his head back and made a noise of frustration up at the cobalt-tinted clouds.
Yadriel took him not immediately arguing as a good sign. Maybe he could be reasoned with. “Look, I know all you cared about was making sure your friends were okay,” he told him. “But they could be in danger, too.”
Julian tensed.
“Whatever happened to you probably happened to Miguel and those missing kids.” All these connections couldn’t possibly be sheer coincidence. “And if we don’t figure out who did it, they might go after your friends next.”
That got his attention.
Yadriel could see the panic rising. How Julian’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. How his eyes flitted around like he was trying to think of an alternative plan.
Yadriel didn’t know what to do if Julian said no. This was more than just proving he was a brujo. It was much bigger than that. He wanted to find Miguel and help him. He wanted to help the others. He didn’t want Julian to be complacent about the fact that he’d been murdered. Whoever did this to Julian and Miguel, Yadriel refused to let them get away with it.
“We need your help,” Yadriel said. “I need your help.” He leaned in, trying to catch Julian’s eyes.
Julian turned. His brow wrinkled as he pressed his lips between his teeth.
“Please, Jules.”
Julian flinched, but then his shoulders slumped in defeat. Hope leaped in Yadriel’s heart when Julian’s lips parted. “I—”