Cemetery Boys(96)

When the twelfth toll rang, everything stopped.

Julian’s body went limp. His expression went slack. He exhaled a wet, rattling breath, and then he disappeared.

This time, he didn’t come back.

“JULIAN!” Yadriel panicked, twisting left and right, searching. He half expected to find Julian’s maligno spirit hiding in a corner, but the church was empty.

What the hell just happened? Where did he go?

The church doors flew open. “Yadriel!” Maritza sprinted between the pews, her skirts flying out behind her, her colorful curls wild. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her cell phone clutched in her fist as she looked around. She was confused but poised to fight.

“He’s gone!” Yadriel managed.

Her expression softened. “I’m so sorry—”

“No! I—I couldn’t; it didn’t work!” Yadriel scooped up the necklace and his portaje from where he had dropped them. His dagger was back to normal. “He suddenly collapsed and—and he was dying—” The terrible scene played itself over in his head.

“Yads,” Maritza said gently, taking a tentative step closer. “He’s already dead.”

“I know that!” Frustration growled in his throat. “But he was dying and then he just vanished! And I didn’t release him!” he added when Maritza started shaking her head.

“Something’s wrong,” she said.

“Clearly!” he snapped.

“No, not just Julian,” Maritza told him impatiently. She held up her phone. The screen lit up with text messages. “Paola texted me,” she said, the color draining from her face. “Miguel didn’t come back.”

“He didn’t?” Yadriel’s heart sank, confirming what he’d been so afraid of. It was officially Día de Muertos. All of the brujx spirits were in the cemetery now, returning to their families. “Then his spirit really is trapped somewhere! Why haven’t we been able to find him?” Yadriel demanded. “How is there still no trace?”

“I don’t know, but something else is going on here.” Maritza drew herself upright with a look of determination. “I—”

Maritza stumbled, clutching her chest just as a searing pain struck Yadriel in the heart, doubling him over. Yadriel instinctively clawed at his chest, trying to rip out whatever had pierced into him, but nothing was there.

“What is that?” Maritza asked through gritted teeth.

“Who is that?” Yadriel said.

Maritza’s voice hitched. “Did someone die?”

Yadriel shook his head, frenzied eyes searching the church. No, someone didn’t die. “Someone’s dying,” he said through ragged breaths. The pain was intense, but had started to dull. Something tugged urgently at his ribs. Whoever it was, they were close, and they were in great danger.

“Where are they?” Maritza asked, eyes searching the wooden beams and empty pews. “Can you tell where it’s coming from?”

He didn’t know, but the tugging feeling was too familiar. It was just like the feeling he had when they had been drawn to the church the first time and he’d found Julian.

But how could this be Julian? How could he be dying when he was already dead?

They needed to find him, but how?

Yadriel grabbed his dagger and smeared some of the pig blood along the blade. “?Muéstrame el enlace!” he called, holding up Julian’s necklace.

The golden thread sparked to life. It shot through the air, past the altar of Lady Death, and through a door. “It’s not going to stay lit for long,” Yadriel said, already making for the door. “But we can follow it to him—”

“Wait!” Maritza caught his arm. “Should we get help?”

“He doesn’t have time, Maritza! You felt it!” he said.

Maritza’s eyes swept to the front doors, then back to Yadriel.

He was prepared to wrench free of her grip and make a run for it if she tried to hold him back.

Instead, she released him and stomped her foot. “Shit!” With a huff, she tossed back her curls and puffed out her chest. “Let’s go!”

Yadriel didn’t need to be told twice.

He had to throw his shoulder into the worn wood door before it groaned open, wood scraping against stone. The old sacristy was dark and dusty. Bookshelves filled with old texts lined the walls, along with an array of brujx sculptures of Aztec warriors and a slab of Maya glyphs. A golden mask of the Incan sun god was tucked safely into a glass display case. At the back of the room was a heavy desk. A toppled-over chair lay next to it.

Yadriel crossed the room, following the golden thread to where it disappeared into the floor behind the desk. In the near pitch dark, Yadriel smoothed his hand over the worn stone. As his eyes adjusted, he could just make out a square outline of green light coming from under the floor. His fingers found a hold and he yanked hard.

With effort, he lifted the trapdoor and slid it to the side. A set of earthen steps sank into the ground. The thread plunged down them.

He only hesitated for a moment. Following a mystery flight of stairs down into the bowels of an old church sounded both stupid and dangerous, but if Julian was down there, Yadriel was going after him.

“Be careful,” Maritza warned as she followed him down.