Page 67 of Espíritu

The Stingray sat at the curb, rumbling like it was ready to chase him down. The moment he saw it, dread sank sharp and fast into his gut.

“Go on,” Angel said quietly, her eyes flicking to the Stingray and then back at Julian. “We’ll talk later.”

Rio’s door swung open. “JULIAN.”

Julian’s shoulders hunched. Guilt. Annoyance. Being caught.

He trudged to the car. Rio stood braced in the frame, jaw tight, coveralls smudged with grease, the tattoo of Santa Muerte flexing on his forearm.

“Get in the car.”

Julian didn’t argue. He slid into the passenger seat and flinched when the door slammed shut beside him. The engine revved as Rio pulled away from the curb.

Julian glanced back. Angel was already fading into the shadows behind them.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay out of trouble?” Rio said as the city smeared by in neon.

“Sorry,” Julian said. It tasted hollow. He stared at his hands. They were still shaking. The mark on his chest throbbed.

His leg bounced while his mind spun out.

The girl’s scream still echoed in his skull.

The way Angel’s blade had burned through the tether.

The way it didn’t feel like peace.

His hand drifted to the chain around his neck, fingers curling around the St. Jude medal. He pressed it flat to his sternum like a shield, as if it could ward off the guilt climbing up his throat.

“How did you even find me?” Julian asked miserably.

Rio jabbed his finger at the phone mounted on the dash. A blinking dot glowed over a map.

Julian leaned forward and saw the GPS app still open. His name right there. Like a neon arrow saying Idiot here.

“You’re actually tracking me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even, but the edge of accusation in it was loud. He’d watched Rio install the app on his phone, but he didn’t think he’d actually use it.

“Only since you decided playing Houdini was your new thing. You think I got time to play hide-and-seek?” Rio shot back. “You’ve been disappearing. Lying. Showing up late. Looking like shit with half a story.”

Julian turned to the window. “Didn’t know I signed up for my own personal FBI agent.”

“Jules.” Rio’s voice softened a fraction. “I gotta know where you are. It’s not safe. The shit you’re into now…”

Julian nearly laughed. He had no idea.

“Right, because a stupid app is gonna stop—” Julian caught his breath, biting down on his tongue.

“Stop what?” Rio asked sharply, eyes flicking toward him. “What’s really going on?”

“Nothing, man,” Julian growled, arms crossing tight.

Silence. The scream in Julian’s head refused to die. The comb’s heat ghosted his palm. Angel’s blade burned through the tether again in his mind, ripping light from darkness. It hadn’t felt like a release. It had felt like an execution.

They pulled up to the apartment, the engine sputtered to a stop and then ticked as it cooled. Neither moved.

“You think you’re invincible,” Rio said. “But you’re not.”

“I was just trying to help a friend,” Julian said miserably, the admission dragging out of him like pulling teeth.