Cemetery Boys(18)

“Yeah, we thought it belonged to Miguel.” What was the gentlest way to tell someone they were dead?

“Our cousin,” Maritza specified.

The boy didn’t seem at all interested in who Miguel was. “It’s mine,” he insisted with a growl. “It’s got my name on it, see?” he said, fingers curling in demand.

Yadriel turned the medal over to find that a name had indeed been engraved on the back. He blinked. “Oh.” The delicate cursive letters read JULIAN DIAZ. Yadriel’s eyes went wide, snapping back to the boy’s face. “Oh.”

Julian Diaz. He knew Julian Diaz, or rather knew of him. They went to high school together. It was a large school, with more than twenty-five hundred students, but Julian had a bit of a reputation. He ditched a lot, but when he was roaming the halls it was hard to not notice him. He had the sort of presence that demanded everyone’s attention without needing to ask. Julian was loud, rarely took things seriously, and was known for getting into trouble. He was hard to miss, attractive in a severe sort of way with that diamond-shaped face. He had a narrow, stubborn chin and a sharp voice that always seemed to cut through every other one in the quad.

“What do you mean by ‘summon’?” Julian asked again. He was staring at his transparent palms, turning them over as if trying to solve a puzzle.

“Do you happen to know how you got here?” Yadriel tried in an attempt at being tactful.

Julian glared. “No!” he snapped. “All I remember was walking down the street with my friends…” He looked around, as if trying to find them in the cold church. “Then something—someone—” He frowned. “Happened? I dunno, I just remember getting knocked over, maybe I got jumped or something.” Julian rubbed absently at the same point on his chest. “Then the next thing I knew, I was in this church with you two.”

Three beats passed before Julian’s eyes suddenly went wide. “I died, didn’t I?” The fierceness was gone, leaving his voice small and weak. “Am I dead?”

Yadriel winced and gave a small nod. “Yeah…”

Julian stumbled back a step, his body wavering in and out of existence for a moment, like a camera trying to focus. “Oh, Jesus.” He pressed both hands against his face. “My brother is gonna kill me,” he groaned against his palms.

“Looks like someone already beat him to it,” Maritza said, reaching out to poke her finger right through Julian’s elbow.

“Quit it!” he snapped, wrenching his arm away. Julian turned his scowl to Yadriel again. “So, what, I’m a ghost now?”

Yadriel didn’t know what to make of him. Julian didn’t sound angry or dismayed. If anything, he was annoyed, as if this were just an inconvenience.

“Spirit,” Yadriel corrected.

“What’s the difference?” Julian asked, flapping his hand at Maritza as she hovered like a fly.

“Well, I don’t know if there’s a difference,” Yadriel ventured, fidgeting with the necklace in his hands. “I think maybe ‘ghost’ is sort of … derogatory?”

Julian stared at him, his mouth in a hard line, an eyebrow raised.

“We use the word ‘spirit,’” Yadriel supplied.

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“Oh, right. That’s Maritza—” he said, pointing at her.

Maritza wiggled her fingers in a wave.

Julian took another step away from her.

“And I’m Yadriel. And, uh…” Yadriel dug around in his brain for the right words. He’d never had to explain who brujx were and what they did, on account of it being a huge, sacred secret they devoted their lives to keeping.

Whoops.

“We’re brujx—brujos can see spirits, and uh, help them cross over to the afterlife,” Yadriel explained.

“And brujas can heal people,” Maritza added.

“So, you’re witches,” Julian said with a dubious look.

Yadriel shook his head. “No.”

“’Cause you’re dressed like a witch.”

Maritza snorted.

Yadriel looked down at himself. He was wearing black jeans, his favorite combat boots, and an oversize black hoodie. The burning bowl of fire in front of him and discs in his ears probably weren’t helping. His cheeks burned red.

“We’re brujx,” he corrected.

Julian frowned. “That literally means witch—”

“No, ‘witch’ is—”

“Derogatory?” Julian guessed, an amused smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.

Now it was Yadriel’s turn to scowl.

Julian looked over at Maritza. “So, you can heal people?”

“Oh, no, I don’t heal,” she replied casually. “You gotta use animal blood, and I’m vegan.”

“Right.” He turned back to Yadriel. “And you can apparently summon ghosts and send them to the afterlife, whatever that means.”

“Yes—Well, no—” Yadriel fumbled, trying to explain himself. “I haven’t done the releasing part yet—”

“Wooow,” Julian crooned, head bobbing in a nod as he looked between the two of them. “You guys are really shitty witches.”

Annoyance flared in Yadriel. “Look, this is my first time, okay?”