Page 103 of Cemetery Boys

Julian’s lips quirked into a sad smile. “I’m not a brujo.”

Yadriel’s heart sank. His shoulders fell. No. Julian wasn’t a brujo. He didn’t get to come back.

Yadriel let himself stare at Julian. He was so … visceral. He was so real. Even with his blurry edges and chilling touch, he was a force of nature. He was loud, he was stubborn, he was determined, and he was reckless. But, still, he would fade.

Yadriel remembered the other night. The thrashing and the pain on Julian’s face. The blood seeping through his shirt. His gasps for breath.

If he stayed here, he’d fade until he wasn’t Julian anymore, just like Tito.

And if Yadriel released him, he’d be gone forever.

“You’re making me nervous,” Julian said, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze unwavering.

Yadriel tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’m just thinking…”

“Thinking what?”

“Something selfish.”

For a moment, they sat there in silence. Yadriel couldn’t look away, even though his heart thudded in the pulse at his neck.

Julian watched him curiously. His gaze slid down to Yadriel’s mouth, his eyes half lidded.

Yadriel held his breath.

“Yads?” His name was so soft and sweet coming from Julian’s lips.

“Yeah?”

But there was something about the look on Julian’s face. A strange stillness as he sat there quietly, a watery reflection of the boy he’d once been.

Something Yadriel’s body recognized before his head could catch up. Every muscle in his body tightened, bracing for impact.

Julian’s voice was too gentle, his words too soft. “I want you to release me.”

EIGHTEEN

“What?”

“You need to release me,” Julian repeated calmly.

Yadriel hated it.

He forced out a laugh. “You don’t mean right now?” There was no way he was serious.

Julian averted his gaze and toyed with Purrcaso’s tail. “There’s no point in waiting around.”

Yadriel openly gaped at him. “You mean right now,” he echoed in disbelief.

“My friends will be fine without me,” Julian pointed out with a lift of his shoulders. “Rio’s accepted that I ditched him and that I’m not going back.”

“But you—you—” Yadriel stammered.

Julian swallowed and wet his lips. “I can feel it happening,” he said, his voice low, defeated. “Like I’m losing my grip on myself.” He stared down at his hands as he flexed them into fists, then loosened them again. “I don’t know, maybe there’s always been something in me, rotting away, and now it’s finally catching up to me—”

“That’s not true,” Yadriel said sharply. He hated how tight his voice was, how strangled it sounded.

“I don’t want to turn into a monster—”