Cemetery Boys(108)

“It’s okay. Maritza told us everything,” Enrique said, smoothing his large hand up and down Yadriel’s arm, speaking softly.

“I’m so sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry.” The apologies spilled from his lips.

Enrique blinked at him, surprised. He gave a slight shake of his head. “No, Yadriel—”

“If I had just told you everything to begin with, then—”

Yadriel’s dad pulled him tight against his chest. “Yadriel,” Enrique sighed into his hair. “My brave, brave son.”

Yadriel wept into his dad’s shoulder, hard and uncontrollable.

“That was not your fault,” his dad told him, his voice soft but firm.

Yadriel’s chest felt like it had split wide open. “All I did was ruin everything. Tío is gone—”

“That’s not your fault,” his dad stressed. “Your tío was corrupted by the desire for power. It poisoned him, turned his mind toxic.” He sighed sadly. “He died at his own hand, no one else’s.”

Lita crossed herself and prayed under her breath.

“And we are partially to blame,” his dad continued. “We were unfair to him, and you, Yadriel. It’s too late to go back and make things right with Catriz, but I promise to do everything to make sure nothing like that happens again. You stopped him; you stopped it,” his dad insisted, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Everyone’s okay.”

But everyone wasn’t okay. Yadriel knew that. Everything in his body screamed it.

He’d watched as the jaguar dragged his tío down to Xibalba. He’d seen Miguel’s lifeless body laid out on the stone.

And there was something else. A persistent tugging in his chest. Something important that was just out of reach.

There was a flicker of a memory. A spark of a smile. A flash of dimpled cheeks. Dark, piercing eyes and a cold kiss on his lips.

It all came crashing back to him.

Julian.

The memory of his lifeless body struck Yadriel in the chest like a knife. He squeezed his eyes shut. Grief welled up inside, threatening to consume him whole. He felt bile rise in the back of his throat. “He’s gone.” Yadriel choked on a sob.

“But, Yads,” Maritza cut in, annoyed. “The amulet—”

Miguel. Julian. “They’re gone.”

“No, Yadriel, escúchame.” He dad squeezed his shoulders. “You saved him, Yadriel.”

Yadriel’s breath hitched. He blinked. “What?”

“All of them! Miguel and the others, too,” Maritza added.

It didn’t make sense. Yadriel pushed himself upright. “That’s not p-possible,” he hiccupped. He searched their faces. Hope fluttered in his heart.

“You used that amulet, and you brought them back.” His dad looked just as bewildered as Yadriel felt.

He stared at his dad. His brain was still foggy. He tried to keep up, to process what that all meant. “That’s not possible,” Yadriel said. “No brujo can bring someone back from the dead.”

“No, not any brujo could do that.” His dad smiled. The kind that brimmed with pride. “But you did.”

“But, that should’ve—”

“Killed you?” Maritza cut in. “Well, it nearly did, no thanks to Lady Death!” Her glare was vicious. She crossed her arms, but Yadriel could see her hands were shaking. “As soon as you brought the others back to life, she just vanished, and I had to save your sorry ass!” she snapped.

Yadriel balked. “You … you healed me?”

Maritza wiped at her eyes and nodded impatiently.

“You saved me, even though it meant using blood?” Yadriel said, staring at her in awe.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t animal blood, and it’s not like I was just going to let you just die there.” She sniffed and lifted her chin. “I guess you lying on the floor in a pool of blood is my breaking point.”

Yadriel exhaled a weak laugh. “You’re amazing, Maritza.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she said, still angry. But then she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “And you can expect a call from my lawyer,” she told him, voice muffled.

Yadriel hugged her back, and for a moment they both leaned against each other, laughing and sniffling.

Yadriel dragged his hand over his runny nose. “So, the others…” he ventured, hoping against hope. “They’re okay? All of them?”

“We called 911, and they rushed them—and you—to the hospital,” his dad nodded. “You took good care of them.” An amused look crossed Enrique’s face, ruffling his mustache with a knowing grin. “I thought we might not even be able to get you to the hospital. That boy, Julian, guarded you and kept you safe. He was ready to fight anyone who got near you—”

Yadriel’s heart leaped. “Julian?” He sat bolt upright, ignoring the churning of his stomach. “Where is he?” he demanded. “Is he here?”

Enrique nodded. “Down the hall, but you—”

Yadriel threw the blankets back and staggered to his feet.

“Yadriel!” his dad gasped.

The machines chimed as he shook off the wires taped to him and bolted for the door.