Cemetery Boys

Home > Other > Cemetery Boys > Page 16
Cemetery Boys Page 16

by Aiden Thomas


  “There’s gotta be somewhere else!” Julian fumed, his patience, once again, wearing thin.

  “There’s nowhere else you can stay?” Yadriel prompted.

  “Not everybody’s got places they can run off to when they’re in trouble,” Omar sneered in a way that made it seem like he thought Yadriel was gloating.

  It caught him off guard. “There’s got to be someone,” Yadriel said with a shake of his head. “What about your parents? Your families?”

  “We’re it,” Omar snapped, gesturing between himself and his friends. “We take care of each other.” He stood tall, his chin jutting out stubbornly.

  “Blood of the covenant,” Omar told Yadriel, holding his hands out as his sides.

  Julian sighed and said in a defeated tone, “Is thicker than the water of the wound.”

  “Is thicker than the water of the wound,” Yadriel repeated automatically. His eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced to Julian, barely able to keep himself from correcting him for yet another malapropism. Yadriel was so distracted, he hadn’t noticed that Luca, Flaca, Rocky, and Omar were all staring.

  “What?” Omar hissed.

  Yadriel jumped, turning his attention back to them. Their expressions were all varying degrees of shock and confusion. “What?”

  “What did you just say?” Flaca asked, staring at him like she’d seen a ghost.

  “Uh—” Yadriel rushed for a coherent reply. “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” he said.

  “No, you said wound,” Rocky insisted.

  “Did I?” A nervous laugh bubbled in his throat.

  “Shit, you weren’t supposed to say that!” Julian barked.

  Yadriel scowled at him. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose.

  “What do you keep looking at?” Omar demanded.

  Yadriel backed up. “I—uh—”

  “That’s what Jules always says,” Luca said, confused.

  “How did you know to say that?” Omar pressed.

  “Don’t tell them!” Julian shouted, his whole body flickering like lightning behind storm clouds.

  Yadriel couldn’t help but look in his direction when Julian’s voice cut through his ears so sharply. He wanted to tell him of course he wasn’t going to tell them. Yadriel wasn’t going to out Julian as being dead if he didn’t want him to, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to out himself as being able to see spirits—

  “HEY!”

  Yadriel’s eyes snapped right back to Omar.

  “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Omar took another step forward.

  Donatello and Michelangelo immediately lowered their heads, deep growls rumbling in their chests. Their jowls pulled back, baring their teeth in warning.

  “Yads,” Maritza said, eyes wide with alarm as she gripped their leashes.

  “Don’t tell them!” Julian repeated angrily.

  Too many people were talking at once. It was overwhelming. Panic clawed up Yadriel’s throat.

  Flaca and Rocky backed up. Omar dragged Luca behind him.

  Yadriel burned under each set of eyes.

  He didn’t mean to freak them out; he was just trying to help, and the dogs were only trying to protect him and Maritza. This was quickly spiraling out of his control.

  “How did you know to say that?” Omar shouted.

  Maritza tried to pull the dogs back.

  Flaca tugged on Omar’s arm.

  Yadriel fumbled, willing himself to just say something to cover up his mistake. “I— He—”

  “LISTEN TO ME!” Julian bellowed. He grabbed his skateboard from the couch and heaved it over his head with both hands before slamming it down. The wood cracked like lightning against the pavement, echoing through the underpass and straight through Yadriel’s bones.

  Everyone jolted. Donatello and Michelangelo whimpered, cowering as Maritza tried to regain control and not get knocked over.

  The skateboard landed upside down, the wheels spinning.

  Julian stormed through the group and tore off up the stairs, a blast of cold following in his wake. It kicked up dirt and bit Yadriel’s cheeks.

  He stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. Omar, Flaca, Rocky, and Luca had all converged, huddled together as they gaped at him.

  Heat flooded Yadriel’s face. How had he screwed things up so badly?

  “I—I’m sorry, I—”

  Omar cut him off, pointing in the direction of the road. “Leave. Now.” His voice was a low growl.

  “Yads,” Maritza warned, already backing up to the stairs, the dogs glued to her hips.

  He saw their looks of shock and fear. Rocky squeezed a quaking Flaca, doing her best to look fierce, but it was a crumbling facade. Luca was barely visible around Omar, his eyes still stuck on the skateboard. “I—”

  “NOW!” Omar shouted.

  Yadriel flinched but quickly obeyed.

  Maritza was already heading up the stairs, Donatello and Michelangelo pulling her along. As Yadriel hurried to catch up with her, all he could think about was Julian and his friends. Their faces. He wasn’t cut out for this. He’d only made things worse for everyone.

  ELEVEN

  “Well, that could’ve gone better,” Maritza said as she and Yadriel hurried to keep up with Julian. Donatello and Michelangelo trotted along happily on either side of her, as if nothing had happened.

  “Not funny.” Humiliation and guilt warred in Yadriel, but he was also pissed at Julian. His emotional outburst didn’t sit right with Yadriel. Yelling and getting mad was one thing, but acting out violently was a whole other beast.

  Julian refused to slow down or wait, causing Yadriel and Maritza to chase after him through the streets. A line of sweat trickled down Yadriel’s spine under his hoodie. October in Los Angeles was not cool enough, and his binder wouldn’t let him breathe deep enough for this.

  They crossed the street to the iron gate of the cemetery. He didn’t need Julian storming in and attracting the attention of the brujx and the other spirits.

  Yadriel jogged forward, catching up to Julian’s pace. “Hey!” he called ahead. “What kind of machismo bullshit was that?”

  He was angry, and Julian’s outburst had scared him, which only made him more angry.

  Julian turned so abruptly, Yadriel reeled back a step.

  “You were going to tell them I’m dead!” he fumed, teeth bared. Cold wind whipped around him, sending his jacket flapping against his sides.

  Yadriel stood his ground under Julian’s lethal stare. Even though instinct told him to back away. “No, I wasn’t!” he shot back, trying to channel as much fierceness as he could.

  Julian’s laugh was sharp, his grin sarcastic and untrusting.

  It got under Yadriel’s skin, which was probably the point. It took every bit of patience he had left to not lash out in return. “You told me not to tell them, so I didn’t.”

  He met Julian’s glare defiantly. “I wouldn’t,” he emphasized.

  Julian’s snarl wavered for a moment. His stare was intense, questioning, and calculating.

  Yadriel met it unflinchingly. “I don’t out people,” he told him.

  Slowly, the harsh lines of Julian’s expression began to melt. The wind calmed. The chill in the air ebbed. It was Julian who looked away first.

  The tension in Yadriel’s shoulders relaxed.

  For a long moment, Julian stared out at where the sun had set behind the rolling hills.

  In the back of his mind, Yadriel knew it would be dark soon. If they didn’t get moving, he’d be in trouble with Lita and his dad. But, right now, there were more important matters at hand than missing curfew.

  “I just wanted to give them a clean break,” Julian said quietly.

  Yadriel didn’t think that was possible. He didn’t see how anyone could get a clean break from Julian once they entered his orbit.

  Himself included.

  Yadriel studied Julian’s profile. The worry in his brow, his strong nose, and th
e stubborn curve of his chin. His cheeks were flushed, the muscles of his jaw working. The waning light washed everything in cool pastels. It was like Julian had been painted against the city in shades of silvery blue. A watery reflection.

  He was a bit of an ass. Headstrong, impulsive, and definitely obnoxious. But Yadriel could see how ferociously he cared about the people who were important to him. He believed Julian would die for his friends.

  He probably had.

  “I know you don’t want to hurt your friends,” Yadriel said, in a gentler tone this time. “Or your brother.” Julian glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “But this isn’t just about you anymore.”

  Julian looked ready to argue, so Yadriel hurried on before he got the chance.

  “You were attacked last night, and whoever did it killed you; we know that much. But then you—your body—completely vanished, without a trace,” he explained. “A couple of hours after that, Miguel died, and now we can’t find him, either.”

  At first, he hadn’t put the pieces together. Not until they talked to Julian’s friends and they told him what Julian couldn’t remember, or didn’t know. They filled in the gaps, and the picture being painted was frightening.

  “Miguel was supposed to be patrolling the cemetery, and we found your necklace in the cemetery,” Yadriel stressed, pulling out the St. Jude pendant from under the neck of his hoodie.

  Julian’s attention went right to it, eyebrows tipping. His fingers went to his own neck, as if yearning to have it back.

  “That can’t be just a coincidence. Whatever happened to you probably happened to Miguel, too.” Yadriel sighed, his hand falling back to his side. “There’s something bigger going on here, but I don’t know what.”

  He hesitated, anticipating Julian’s reaction before he could even get the words out. “If we could just go to your place—”

  “I don’t want to go see my brother,” Julian snapped.

  Fatigue and frustration flared. “I know, but—”

  Maritza stepped forward. “If we could get one of your shirts or something, we could try tracking your body down,” she suggested with a small lift of her shoulder. “I mean, Donatello and Michelangelo didn’t pass the tracker test, but it’s all we’ve got to work with.”

  Julian looked between her and the dogs, not seeming the least bit convinced.

  Yadriel, on the other hand, had hope. “We could give it to them and go back to where you got jumped,” he said. “They could pick up the scent and lead us to your body, and maybe Miguel’s, too.” It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was at least somewhere to start. And it was better than standing around doing nothing.

  He tried again. “If we could just talk to Rio for a second—”

  Julian growled, looking just as irritated as Yadriel felt. “I don’t—”

  “We could ask if he’s heard anything. Maybe the police did find your body and contacted him,” Yadriel continued. “While we’re there distracting him, you could grab something of yours for the dogs to get your scent. I mean, you’ve been practicing your haunting skills, right?” he pointed out, thinking back to the mess Julian had created in his room.

  Julian leaned his head back and made a noise of frustration up at the cobalt-tinted clouds.

  Yadriel took him not immediately arguing as a good sign. Maybe he could be reasoned with. “Look, I know all you cared about was making sure your friends were okay,” he told him. “But they could be in danger, too.”

  Julian tensed.

  “Whatever happened to you probably happened to Miguel and those missing kids.” All these connections couldn’t possibly be sheer coincidence. “And if we don’t figure out who did it, they might go after your friends next.”

  That got his attention.

  Yadriel could see the panic rising. How Julian’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. How his eyes flitted around like he was trying to think of an alternative plan.

  Yadriel didn’t know what to do if Julian said no. This was more than just proving he was a brujo. It was much bigger than that. He wanted to find Miguel and help him. He wanted to help the others. He didn’t want Julian to be complacent about the fact that he’d been murdered. Whoever did this to Julian and Miguel, Yadriel refused to let them get away with it.

  “We need your help,” Yadriel said. “I need your help.” He leaned in, trying to catch Julian’s eyes.

  Julian turned. His brow wrinkled as he pressed his lips between his teeth.

  “Please, Jules.”

  Julian flinched, but then his shoulders slumped in defeat. Hope leaped in Yadriel’s heart when Julian’s lips parted. “I—”

  “I’ll help you,” someone called.

  Yadriel, Julian, and Maritza all jerked to turn toward the voice.

  A boy in a large olive green sweater stood across the street, a skateboard tucked under his arm.

  “Uh-oh,” Maritza murmured.

  Yeah. This was a big “uh-oh.”

  Julian’s shoulders slumped. “Luca, you idiot,” he said as the boy crossed the road and perched on the edge of the curb.

  “Hey…” Yadriel trailed off awkwardly. How much had he heard?

  “I’ll help you guys,” Luca repeated. He didn’t look freaked out, or even upset. He looked more curious than anything.

  Maritza and Yadriel exchanged looks.

  “What is he doing here?” Julian scowled, pacing back and forth in front of Luca. “He shouldn’t have come all this way on his own.”

  “Look, whatever happened back there was kinda … weird,” Luca said, a nervous laugh bubbling past his lips.

  “We really didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” Yadriel said, because it was true and he felt like he owed an explanation.

  “I want to help,” Luca offered again, shifting his grip on his stateboard as his eyes kept dashing back to Donatello and Michelangelo.

  Jules groaned and dragged his hand over his face.

  Maritza gave Yadriel a surprised look.

  “You … do?” Yadriel was going to keep his word to Julian, so he wasn’t going to offer up any information without knowing what exactly Luca meant, or how much he knew. Or guessed.

  Luca bobbed his head yes, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips as he watched Donatello wiggle at the attention.

  “See? This! This is your problem, Luca!” Julian barked, throwing his hands up.

  “Is Jules dead?”

  He asked it so suddenly, and so casually, it left Yadriel speechless and staring.

  “I’m not sure I believe in ghosts,” Luca admitted.

  “Christ,” Julian groaned.

  “But the skateboard.” Luca scratched the back of his head. “Jules has kind of a quick temper.”

  “No kidding,” Maritza grumbled under her breath.

  Julian huffed and tugged his hood over his head.

  Luca gave them an apologetic smile. “He doesn’t mean nothin’ by it.”

  Julian glowered, heavy brow pulled down over his dark eyes, but Luca seemed to be thawing his anger.

  “But when he gets mad, he’ll throw it like that, y’know? It was really freaky.” He lifted his bony shoulders in a shrug. “Plus, you guys were talking to like, nothing.” Luca gestured vaguely. “So either you’re both crazy, or Julian’s dead,” he guessed. “And you guys can see him?”

  Maritza looked to Yadriel, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he looked to Julian. He wasn’t going to say anything without his permission.

  Luca followed his gaze, searching the air and tilting his head, as if he just needed the right light to see Julian standing there.

  Julian’s eyes were hidden under the hood of his jacket. Yadriel couldn’t read his expression, but he could see his jaw was clenched. After a moment, he gave a curt nod. “Okay,” he said. “Tell him.”

  Yadriel swallowed, trying to find his voice through the tightness of his throat. “Yes,” he said.

  He regretted it immediately.

  Luca’s expres
sion wavered between surprise and sadness. “I thought so,” he said, sniffing as his large eyes started to glisten in the waning twilight. Luca tried to smile, but his chin wobbled. “Julian wouldn’t have just left us without a reason, he wouldn’t—” He cut himself off, rubbing at his forehead.

  Yadriel felt Luca’s grief, rolling off him and hitting him in the stomach.

  Julian stood there, body rigid and expression still hidden.

  Yadriel tried to come up with something to say that would offer the smaller boy comfort. What would his mom say if she were here?

  “Luca—” he started gently, but Luca didn’t let him finish.

  “Yeah, see, there’s no way Rio will see you on your own.” Luca rubbed his nose on his sleeve, drawing Yadriel’s attention back to the bruise. “He doesn’t like strangers, doesn’t trust people—kind of like Omar, but worse.”

  Yadriel wasn’t sure that was possible.

  “But if I’m with you, he’ll at least let you in the door,” Luca explained.

  Julian crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You little traitor…,” he said, but it lacked heat.

  “I don’t know…” Yadriel trailed off, waiting for Julian’s guidance.

  “I owe him.” Luca’s expression pinched, his delicate eyebrows bunching together. He tugged anxiously on the frayed hem of his sweater. “Julian, I mean. If he is dead, it’s because of me. He was trying to protect me, and then I ran off, and…” He swallowed hard.

  Yadriel stole a glance at Julian.

  He pushed his hood back, expression somber as he looked down at his friend. “Luca…”

  “I want to find out what happened,” Luca went on. “We were too scared to go to Rio, but if he does know something…” When he spoke, his voice was firmer, more sure of himself. “I want to help, if I can.” He was staring down at the dogs again, as if they were part of the conversation. “I owe it to Jules, and Rio.”

  Julian winced. “You don’t owe me shit,” he said in a quiet sigh. He tipped his head to the side, watching Luca as the smaller boy waited for an answer.

  Yadriel didn’t say anything. This was Julian’s choice, not his, no matter how much he wanted Julian to agree to it.

  Luca, meanwhile, was distracted. “Can I pet your dogs?” he asked Maritza with a hopeful lift of his eyebrows.

 

‹ Prev