Labyrinth Lost (Brooklyn Brujas #1)(8)

“Dick!” Rishi shouts at him. A tiny trickle of blood starts to flow from her nose.

“Are you okay?” I ask, even though it’s a stupid thing to ask. Of course she’s not okay. She wipes the blood away with the back of her hand, but it starts to gush down her face. I unzip my hoodie and press the fabric to her nose.

Anger flashes through me. I feel a tick in my neck and an itch in my palms. I turn around to face Ivan. He picks up another ball and gets in my space. I feel his energy, dark and hateful, brush against my own. Then, his eyes flash red for a second. I step back. Something is wrong. The feeling twists in my gut.

“You got a problem?” Ivan asks. “Want to get messed up like your little girlfriend?” He slams the ball into my shoulder.

“Stop,” I shout. My hands are shaking.

“Make me.” He won’t back down.

I take a step toward him, but Rishi stops me.

“Alex,” Rishi says. Angry tears spill from the corners of her eyes. “Help me up.”

She holds out her hand. It’s covered in blood. Ivan moves to grab my wrist, but I push him as hard as I can. I feel my head spin at the sight of Rishi’s blood. I shut my eyes to make the dizziness go away, but I see the warm, red light of my dream again. The rotten stench of dead flesh fills the air. Then, I hear the last words my dad ever spoke to me. “Sh, my darling. Everything will be okay.” He lied. Nothing would ever be okay—not truly.

I close my eyes. Remember to breath. Remember to pull the tide back. Remember to keep it buried. But there’s something else there, struggling to break free again. Just like last time. Dread digs into my chest and won’t let go. I feel a swell in my heart, and when I look down at my hands, they’re covered in blood. The wind is knocked out of my lungs. Something breaks inside of me and I can’t hold on anymore.

My magic slips.

My ears pop and adrenaline rushes through my veins. I wait for something to shatter or move, but instead, Ivan falls on his hands and knees, choking. The head of a black snake slithers from his mouth, flicking a bright-red tongue.

Ivan makes a final, terrible gagging noise, and then the whole snake is out. It slithers across the waxed gym floor between feet that run for the exits. Piercing screams fill the air as Ivan shivers and collapses. The snake grows bigger by the second, like it feeds off the people screaming. When there’s no one left in the gym but the three of us, the snake darts for Rishi.

“No!” I shout.

The snake freezes, turns its head in my direction. That red tongue flicks at me. It nods. It knows me. Then, the snake slithers out the door and into the halls.

“Alex.” Someone calls my name. I turn around but no one is there.

“Who’s there?” I whisper. The temperature in the room drops.

“We need to go!” Rishi holds her bloody hand out for me to take.

But there’s that voice again. I fall backward onto the gym floor. I can hear the rush of waves, the crackle of static. Rishi tries to help me stand. I stare at her fingers. Pink nails. Brown henna. But then she’s gone as Aunt Rosaria appears between us.

“Alex, what’s wrong?” Rishi shouts.

I crawl backward, my insides clenching and twisting painfully. Recoil. My skin burns from the inside like there’s fire in my veins. Aunt Rosaria’s open lips are a black hole, but the sound is lost. She grabs her throat with one hand and points at me with the other, a long, accusatory finger. I hold up my arms to shield myself from her. My magic slips defensively. The blast sets off the sprinkler systems. It shudders the windowpanes. It fills the air with the howling winds of a storm. Magic flares in my veins, and I panic, pulling it back like a lifeline that is slipping from my fingers. Aunt Rosaria starts to fade into the shadows, my name the last word on her cold, dead lips.





5


The Deos created the brujos and brujas.

Bless our kind, vessels of their Eternal Gifts.

—from the journal of Philomeno de las Rosas

I run all the way home. The last thing I heard before I took off was Rishi and Lula looking for me in the throng of students. I went out the side door and bolted down the street. I realize running from this is like trying to outrun the sun. Sometimes I feel like all I want to do is run. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I never stopped.

When I get to my street, I slow down. Sweat drips from my temples and down my nose. My muscles burn down to the core. I run into my house. I press my head against the kitchen door until I stop shaking. I practice my breaths like Mrs. Castellano, my guidance counselor, once told me, “If you hold your breath, Alejandra, your panic attacks will get worse. Breathe and you will see how much easier it is to make sense of your emotions.”

She was wrong then and she’s wrong now. There is not enough air in the world to calm me down. So I do the only thing that makes me feel better—I clean. I attack the dishes with soap and a sponge. I run the soapy dishes under water. I place them on the drying rack so hard I break one. I grip the sink and try to rationalize today’s events.

I couldn’t have done that to Ivan. It had to be Aunt Ro’s ghost. But why would she do that? Why would she point at me? Aunt Rosaria hasn’t shown herself to any family member since her death. Not even on the night of the Waking Canto. My mother’s circle blamed me. I broke the enchantment with my midnight appearance. They would never find the true reason for my aunt’s death. They’re afraid she’s lost to the realms beyond the veil. But if she’s lost, why appear to me when I didn’t even summon her?