Cemetery Boys(102)

Yadriel shook his shoulders roughly. “Stay awake!”

Julian reached out with his other hand and cupped Yadriel’s face. He swept his thumbs gently under Yadriel’s eyes, trying to wipe away the tears. “Todo bien, Yadriel.” Julian drew in a rattling breath.

“You have to stay here until we can get help,” Yadriel demanded. Hiccups bucked in his chest, breaking his words.

Julian nodded, but his expression was pained. His breath quickened as he tried in vain to keep his eyes open, to keep them locked onto Yadriel’s. A sob caught in Julian’s throat. His hands trembled. Tears spilled from the corners of his deep brown eyes.

“Stay!” Yadriel shouted at him, giving him another rough shake.

Julian tried to nod again, but his gaze unfocused, losing sight of Yadriel. His hands slid from Yadriel’s face. His eyes stared, unseeing.

The St. Jude medal around his neck gave one last flicker of light before dulling to tarnished silver.

One last breath sighed past Julian’s lips.

Everything that made Julian Julian—the mischievous light in his eyes, his dimpled smile—vanished.

Yadriel felt him leave, like his own heart had been torn from his chest.

A cry ripped through him, caving in his heart, his bones aching. Yadriel clutched Julian and openly sobbed into his neck. His body shook. His lungs burned. Every fiber of his being mourned.

He couldn’t hear the voice calling him at first, lost under his primal cries.

“Yadriel!” A warm hand pressed to his back.

Yadriel turned to look, his head tucked under Julian’s chin.

Maritza stood beside him, her eyes wide and frantic as they went between Julian’s body, Yadriel, the blood-covered floor. She held her rosary in her fist. “Yads—”

“Help!” Yadriel begged, balling Julian’s jacket into his fist. “Please! Save him!”

“Santa Muerte,” Maritza hissed, quickly searching for Julian’s pulse.

“Please, you have to save him, please,” Yadriel sobbed uncontrollably.

Maritza’s hand fell back to her side. “Yads,” she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Yads—”

Yadriel shoved her away. “I know—I know it goes against your beliefs—”

“It’s not that, Yadriel—”

“But you have to save him! Please, Maritza!”

Maritza swallowed. “I can’t, Yadriel.” Her eyes welled. “I can’t bring him back. He’s gone.”

Yadriel’s tears trickled down Julian’s neck. “Please, please, please.” He repeated the word over and over. It echoed uselessly, hollow and empty.

Maritza squeezed Yadriel’s shoulder tight.

Yadriel buried his face against Julian, letting his smell linger. The sobs slowly subsided until Yadriel was left weak and sniffling.

Then he noticed something thrumming, pressed against his side. Gingerly, Yadriel pushed himself up. The jaguar amulet lay on the stone slab. It trembled and sparked with light, wafting heat and energy.

The ritual was complete. The amulet still held the spirits of Miguel, the two others. Julian’s spirit. They were trapped inside and would remain there, unable to cross over to the afterlife.

He wouldn’t allow it.

He needed help. He needed Lady Death, but how could he summon a god? Yadriel’s mind raced. He remembered how Tío Catriz stood at the cenote, the gateway that connected this world to Xibalba. He remembered how his tío had sliced open his own hand, had used his own blood. Only something as powerful as brujx blood could call upon a death god.

Yadriel quickly pulled out his dagger, gripping where Lady Death had been painted onto the hilt. Their portajes connected them to her.

“Yads?” Maritza said tentatively.

With a quick slice, Yadriel cut open his palm with his dagger.

“Yadriel!” Maritza shouted.

This was the only way he could think to get Lady Death’s attention. He needed this favor. He squeezed his hand into a fist. Blood spilled through his fingers. “Lady Death!” he called out. “I need you!”

A bright light exploded in the crypt. Maritza stumbled back. Yadriel threw his arm up to shield his eyes.

Marigold petals showered down around him. They twisted and sparked, tickling his face as they cascaded to the floor. The sweet smell of apples filled his nose.

The light faded. Tall and glowing with a warm light, Lady Death stared down at them, her expression calm. Her skin was smooth as stone, milky white and translucent. Through it, Yadriel could see her golden skeleton.

Parts of her ghostly flesh were missing from the left side of her face. An uneven line curved around her eye and down the side of her jaw, revealing some of her golden skull, teeth, and neck.

Lady Death’s hands pressed together, as if in prayer. The left one was only bone. Her white dress billowed out gently around her, like she was underwater. The hem swept along the tops of her bare feet.

Yadriel caught a glimpse of thick, black hair under her gilded lace mantle. A crown of marigolds rested upon her head, their petals gently falling around her. Bright and undulating, her right eye looked as if it had been filled with molten gold, while the other was just an empty, gleaming socket.

Yadriel openly gaped at her, barely even registering the throbbing pain in his hand.