Miguel tore off up the stairs.
To the side, the two others—a girl and a boy, who both looked about his age, if not younger—stood back, looking at Julian like he was a wild animal.
Good. If they were scared, then they would stay away. All Julian cared about was Yadriel.
With clumsy fingers, he walked his fingers along the side of Yadriel’s neck where he had seen Miguel and Maritza feel for a pulse. At first, he couldn’t find it, and he thought Yadriel’s heart had stopped again. But then his middle finger pressed at just the right spot and he felt the beat. Julian cursed under his breath and held his hand as still as possible. He was afraid to let go and lose it again, but he also didn’t want to accidentally choke Yadriel.
Julian let out a shaky exhale and counted each and every beat of Yadriel’s heart. Focusing on that and only that.
He didn’t know how much time passed, but it seemed to stretch on forever. Panic wound its way through his rigid muscles. What was taking Miguel so long to get help? Why wasn’t he back yet? Anger roiled in his blood. His skin crawled. Julian couldn’t stand just sitting there, waiting. The only thing keeping him from running to get help himself was Yadriel.
Julian pressed his ear to Yadriel’s chest, trying to hear it beat, but it was drowned out by the sound of his own ragged breaths.
It felt like hours before he heard voices and footsteps running down the stairs and into the crypt. Julian looked up as a group of people flooded the cave. Hope tried to lift his chest, but fear dragged it back down.
He recognized Yadriel’s dad and abuelita. She gasped and stopped short when she saw the gory mess laid out. Yadriel’s dad stared, head twisting as he took everything in.
A girl a bit older than Julian rushed to Maritza, letting out an impressive string of curses in Spanish.
When Yadriel’s dad spotted his son, where he lay under Julian’s protective crouch, he rushed forward, Miguel quick on his heels.
Julian tensed. “Don’t!” he barked, so fiercely that Enrique tripped to a stop.
He looked between Julian and Yadriel, maybe weighing the pros and cons of getting his hand bitten off. He flicked Miguel a look. “Who—?”
“I don’t know,” Miguel said, watching Julian anxiously from over Enrique’s shoulder. To Julian, he asked, “Is Yadriel your friend?”
The word burned. “¡Mi querido!” he snapped viciously.
Enrique’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Julian blushed furiously under their stares.
Enrique knelt down and tried to move closer.
“Don’t touch him!” Julian all but snarled. He tried to push them away.
“It’s okay,” Enrique said gently. Julian saw his hands trembling when he held his palms up in submission. “We’re here to help, please.” His voice was tight when he said, “He’s my son.”
“I know that!” Julian said. In an attempt to calm himself, he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. He knew that. He knew they were there to help, that they were his family, but Julian was so scared and angry. Just because Yadriel had forgiven them didn’t mean he did.
They could help, but Julian couldn’t get his body to understand what his brain knew. Adrenaline coursed through him, rigid and ready to fight even though he knew he didn’t need to.
He refused to move away from Yadriel’s side, but he did shift back. As soon as he made room, Enrique and Lita leaned in.
Julian bit back the urge to knock their hands away as they touched Yadriel’s cheeks, his pulse, his forehead. He was unconscious and vulnerable. Julian had to keep him safe.
“Is he okay?” Enrique asked.
“Sí,” Lita said with a heavy sigh. “Just exhausted.”
Enrique looked over. “Paola?”
“She’ll be okay,” said the girl who looked way too much like Maritza not to be her sister. She looked pissed, holding a light green rosary to Maritza’s forehead. “So stupid,” she chided, even though Maritza clearly couldn’t hear her.
“Thank Santa Muerte,” Enrique said. “We need to get them out of here. The ambulances should be arriving soon.”
When he and Miguel moved to pick up Yadriel, panic cut through Julian. “Be careful!” he shouted.
Enrique tried to speak gently to him. “It’s okay—” But Julian wouldn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.
Miguel got down and jostled Yadriel as he got his arms under him. Yadriel’s head lolled to the side.
“YOU’LL HURT HIM!” Julian tried to rush forward, but a pair of sturdy hands held on to his shoulders. Everything in him screamed to fight. He tried to rein in his anger but fear tore through his veins. “You’ll hurt him!” His throat ached. The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears.
Miguel scooped Yadriel into his arms. His head fell back, lips parted and neck exposed.
Julian’s voice splintered. “Don’t hurt him!”
“He’s okay; he’ll be okay,” Enrique repeated, trying to calm Julian, but he was already turning to follow.
Miguel was across the cave and going up the stairs. There was more movement around him, and brujx went to help the others. Julian could only see Yadriel’s dangling legs. His swath of black hair.
Julian’s heart thrashed wildly in his chest, threatening to break his ribs. He didn’t want them to take Yadriel away from him. What if something happened and Julian never got to see him again?
He twisted out of the grip of whoever was holding him and rushed forward. “WAIT!”
Enrique turned with a jerk, posture tense as he gave Julian a startled look.
Julian took a step back. “I need to go with him!” he insisted, fingers knotting anxiously into the hem of his shirt. Miguel disappeared with Yadriel up the stairs. Something tugged urgently at his chest, demanding he follow.
Enrique looked him down, confused and apprehensive.
Julian was covered in blood, trembling as his chest heaved with ragged breaths. Tears streamed down his cheeks, blurring his vision.
With effort, he choked back his primal instinct to charge forward, to just push past Enrique and anyone else in his way until he got back to Yadriel. “Please let me go with him!” Julian begged, hating the desperation in his voice.
After a moment, Enrique’s expression softened. He gave a curt nod. “Okay—”
Julian tore off up the stairs after Yadriel.
They wouldn’t let him ride in the ambulance no matter how hard he argued. It was too small. Enrique was the one who accompanied his son. Julian was put in his own ambulance after a lot of negotiating. He only agreed when they said he would be going to the same ER as Yadriel.
The adrenaline started to wear off on the way to the hospital. Strapped to a gurney, his body felt heavy, every muscle sore. The paramedic cut open his shirt and dressed the stab wound on his chest first, with layers of gauze and tape. He snapped at her when she pressed too hard, sending a sharp ache cutting through him.
“How long were you down there?” she asked, face screwed up in confusion. “It looks partially healed.”
Julian ignored her. He wasn’t no snitch.
It took the paramedic three tries to get him hooked up to an IV because he kept pulling away. Julian was too distracted worrying about Yadriel to listen to her explanation, but the stuff in the IV was cold, and he could feel it race through his veins. The tube tickled his arm with every bump of the ambulance.