Page 75 of Espíritu

Julian swallowed.

One second he was standing there, and the next Julian had thrown his arms around Yadriel, crushing him into a hug. His heart thudded painfully against Yadriel, breath shuddering out of him in uneven bursts. He didn’t even realize how hard he was shaking until Yadriel’s arms wrapped around him in return, steady and firm and sure.

Being held like this didn’t fix anything, not really, but it sure did help.

He buried his face in Yadriel’s shoulder, desperately gripping the back of his hoodie.

“Hey, hey,” Yadriel said, startled as he tilted his head to meet Julian’s gaze. “What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked as he led Julian inside.

Julian opened his mouth, then closed it again as Yadriel pulled him to sit on the couch. His thoughts were a scrambled mess, but they landed on the same image every time—that thing in the kitchen.

“I saw something,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “At the apartment. In the kitchen.”

Yadriel’s posture shifted immediately, his expression sharpening. “Tell me everything.”

Julian swallowed hard and nodded. “I thought I was alone. Everyone was asleep. But when I walked into the kitchen, there was—” He shuddered. “There was something there. This … figure. It wasn’t a spirit—I don’t know what it was. Tall, dark, watching me. There one second, gone the next, but it didn’t feel like a normal haunting. It felt … personal. Wrong.”

Yadriel’s hand stayed steady on his arm. “Like one of your visions?”

“I don’t know,” Julian said, shrugging miserably. “Maybe. It felt different. Like it wanted me to see it.”

Yadriel didn’t speak right away, just gave his arm a small squeeze, keeping him grounded.

Julian took a breath, then barreled into the next part. “And then Angel—there was this spirit. A girl. A quinceañera. She was a maligno. We found her near the old dress shop. She went wild. Screaming. Her eyes—”

He broke off, shaking his head. “Angel used their portaje to release her. That obsidian dagger.” Julian rubbed his hands over his face. “But it wasn’t like when you do it! Or anyone from East LA that I’ve seen. There wasn’t that, like, gentle sigh, or the nice marigold petals,” he listed off. “Nothing peaceful.”

Yadriel’s brows pulled together. “Wait—how do you mean?”

Julian looked up, eyes wide. “There was this weird green smoke—and the scream she let out—Yads, it was awful! Not human—it sounded like she was being torn apart.”

Yadriel’s breath caught as he sat back slightly, blinking. “Release is supposed to be consent and ease. It shouldn’t hurt—it should never hurt—”

His jaw clenched, like he was biting back what he wanted to say. Julian watched the color drain from his face, the way his shoulders tensed—not just in concern, but in anger. Or fear. Maybe both. Like he was trying to process how something sacred had been warped into something brutal.

“That’s not a release,” Yadriel said again, softer now, like he didn’t want to believe it.

“I know,” Julian said. “It felt more like—like they were cutting something out of her. Like a punishment.”

Yadriel didn’t say anything right away. He just looked at Julian—really looked at him—eyes scanning his face as if he were trying to assess the damage beneath the surface. Like he wanted to fix it but didn’t know how. His thumb brushed over Julian’s knuckles, slow and steady.

“I don’t get it,” Julian muttered. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You did the right thing,” Yadriel said quietly. “You came here.”

Julian tried to smile, but it didn’t stick. That moment in the kitchen still clung to him like a shadow. He thought of the way its gaze had crawled under his skin. How something about it had felt … personal.

Yadriel gave his hand a soft squeeze. “Do you want to talk more? Or just sit?”

Julian leaned back against the couch, head tilted toward the ceiling. “Sitting’s good.”

They let the quiet settle around them. Not heavy—just there. Warm, steady, safe. For the first time all night, Julian didn’t feel like he was about to break.

The sound of soft footsteps broke through the laughter. Both boys turned to see Lita standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips, her expression sharp and curious. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, her gaze shifting between Julian and Yadriel.

Yadriel sprang to his feet, stepping in front of Julian protectively. “Julian’s having a hard night, Lita,” he said earnestly, his voice gentle but firm. “Can he stay over?”

Lita’s brow furrowed, her sharp gaze lingering on Julian, who hunched his shoulders guiltily under her scrutiny. He braced himself for the scolding he was sure was coming.