the trapped spirits swarming in the amulet. The two strangers’. Miguel’s. Julian’s.
Tío Catriz said the power of the amulet, when fueled by the spirits of those who had been sacrificed, would help him gain the strength the brujx hadn’t had flowing through their blood in millennia.
Could he use that stolen power to release their spirits? Could he set them free?
Could he bring them back?
He thought of Miguel, his gentle cousin who was a great man and a doting son. He thought of Julian’s wild energy, his undying loyalty to his loved ones, and his determination to do anything to take care of them.
He thought of his mom and her kindness, how all she wanted was to heal and help others. He knew exactly what his mom would do if she were here. The same thing he was going to do.
Yadriel would let himself die, gladly, if it meant saving the four who had been so viciously and carelessly sacrificed. He refused to let them die for his uncle’s selfish gains.
He would do it for them. He would do it for Julian.
When he looked up at Lady Death, she smiled.
“Yadriel,” Maritza said at his side, as if just realizing what she meant. “Yadriel, don’t do it!”
But his mind was made up.
Holding it with both hands, Yadriel pressed the amulet to his chest.
Golden light ignited his skin. He sucked in a breath as electricity surged through his veins. He felt light-headed as the power swelled. Yadriel squeezed his eyes shut.
Let them go. Let them be free. Let them live.
“YADRIEL!”
The amulet exploded in his hands, throwing him onto his back. Yadriel groaned. His head swam. He tried to sit up, but every ounce of energy quickly bled out of him. He was too tired to move, too tired to breathe.
He could feel his mind slipping. His vision blurred and darkened.
Yadriel pushed through the fog, searching for something to hold on to, for somewhere to go.
He thought about Julian. The reckless glint in his eyes as he hung out the window of the Stingray, speeding down the highway. The low tenor of his voice as they whispered in the middle of the night, sprawled out on Yadriel’s bed and listening to music. The punch-drunk curl of his lips. The way he touched Yadriel’s cheek. The light brush of Julian’s lips. The way they made Yadriel’s heart thud in his chest.
He clung to them, even though they made him weak with grief and loss. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried to hold on to the memory, to hold on to Julian.
Stay with me. Stay with me.
Yadriel’s heartbeat slowed. His vision went dark. The sweet scent of apples tickled his nose.
He held on to the thought of Julian as tightly as he could.
Stay with me.
TWENTY-FOUR
Julian woke up with a violent jerk. He gulped down air, his heart hammering in his ribs.
What the fuck happened?!
He tried to focus and remember, pushing through the sludge in his head.
Someone was yelling, and Julian cringed as their voice rang in his ears. He wanted to tell them to shut the hell up, but all he managed was an annoyed grunt.
When he tried to sit up, his head swam. If there had been anything in his stomach, he definitely would’ve barfed it into his lap. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to make himself stop being dizzy through sheer force of will.
He was lying on something hard and cold. His whole body ached, like he’d eaten shit on his skateboard. There was a dull, throbbing ache in his chest. But—
Holy shit.
Julian touched his arms, his face, his chest.
He was alive?
He was alive!
Julian turned his heavy head, forcing his eyes open to seek out Yadriel.
He needed to tell him, he needed to show him, he needed to grab him and—
“Some goddess you are!” a familiar voice all but screamed.
Julian squinted into the dark room. “Maritza?”
Slowly, things came into focus.
He was sitting on what looked like a stone table.
It was covered in blood.
He was covered in blood.
Everything came rushing back to him. The church. The crypt. The dagger.
Julian’s hand flew to where he had been stabbed. His shirt was torn open and there was a cut. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it still hurt like a son of a—
“You’re nothing but a coward!”
Maritza sat on the floor, shouting up at the ceiling.
Who the hell was she yelling at?
Julian pushed himself to the edge of the stone table and placed his unsteady feet on the ground. He