Page 140 of Espíritu

“Okay, I like her,” Rocky said, surrendering as she grabbed a handful of chips. “She’s terrifying and prepared.”

“True,” Maritza agreed, smug. “Just don’t tell anyone our secrets and you’ll be fine. Otherwise, I’ll curse you,” she added, wiggling her fingers threateningly.

Omar cut Julian a look. “She serious?”

Julian nodded solemnly. “Very. She almost flushed me down a toilet once.”

Omar stared at him for a moment before deciding, “I’m not gonna ask.” He turned and gave Maritza a wary glance. “You’ve really done this before?”

“Not this exactly. But you’d be surprised how often things go sideways when you hang around with ghosts and gays.” Maritza shrugged, popping a marshmallow into her mouth.

Omar raised a thick eyebrow. “So, what, stuff like this just happens all the time?”

“More than you’d think,” Maritza said cheerfully, already preening under the attention. “That was actually a pretty mild ritual. You should see what we do during an eclipse.”

Rocky looked alarmed. “There are worse ones?!”

“Oh yeah,” Maritza said, digging around in her snack bag, unbothered. “One time a goat exploded. It wasn’t even part of the ritual. Just—boom. Goat. Gone.”

Omar squinted. “You’re messing with us.”

“Am I?” Maritza asked, raising a single eyebrow and then chomping on another marshmallow. “Either way, no goats tonight. House rules.”

Flaca leaned in. “Okay, but like, seriously—the ghosts, the magic, the whole death goddess thing—is it always this intense?”

Maritza tilted her hand back and forth. “Depends. Sometimes it’s just helping a spirit pass on. Other times it’s … tonight.”

Rocky pointed between her and Yadriel. “So you two are like, official ghost-wranglers or something?”

“Technically, I’m the family’s designated black sheep slash wannabe weapon forger,” Maritza said, flipping her curls. “But I also dabble in badassery.”

“You dabble?” Julian called from the couch. “You cussed out a god and then saved Yadriel from dying!”

“Exactly,” Maritza said, grinning. “I contain multitudes.”

Flaca shook her head, half in awe. “This is actually kind of incredible.”

Maritza beamed. “Keep the compliments coming. I’ll answer anything you want to know—for the low, low price of two Oreos and a respectful attitude.”

Yadriel watched the banter, a familiar warmth settling in his chest. For all the chaos, it felt … right.

“Lita, are you sure we’re okay here?” Julian’s voice broke through Yadriel’s thoughts, drawing his attention back to the living room. Julian stood near the bigger couch, arms full of tangled blankets, his gaze flicking toward the front windows.

His voice was low but tense. “What if Angel shows up?”

Lita didn’t miss a beat. “Don’t insult me, mijo,” she said, sharp but fond, stepping in with a plate of jicama dusted in Tajín. “Do you have any idea how many protections are around this house? More and older than the ones I put on the church. Bahlam himself couldn’t get in here if he wanted to.”

She sniffed. “Not without me slapping him upside the head with my chancla.”

Julian squinted, clearly unsure whether or not she was joking. Yadriel bit back a smile, nudging Julian with his elbow. “She’s not kidding.”

Lita tipped her chin at Rio, clocking the bat across his lap. “Such a strong man,” she added, eyes bright. “Mijo, you keep holding it like that and I might start blushing!”

Rio blinked once. “Señora—”

“Ay, señor, no!” Lita scolded, fanning herself with her free hand. “Call me Lita, please! Or Rosamaria if you’re going to flirt back,” she added, tittering.

A corner of Rio’s mouth almost counted as a smile.