Page 99 of Espíritu

“If we summon him, if we do it properly,” Yadriel cut in, “then all three of us should be able to see him. Not just you.”

Julian blinked. “Wait. So before…?”

“Clearly he was using something else to push through,” Maritza said grimly. “Something that wasn’t brujx magic.”

They all looked at each other.

Whatever Catriz was doing, Julian was caught in the middle of it.

Yadriel’s stomach turned. His hands felt too cold. “We’ll need his tether. If we use it to anchor him to us, he can’t be yanked mid-sentence,” Yadriel said. “We need straight answers.”

Julian groaned. “Fuck, right. How do we even find that?”

Yadriel didn’t move for a moment. Then, reluctantly, he said, “I know where it is.”

Yadriel led the way, followed by Maritza and Julian. To avoid getting caught leaving the cemetery by Rio, Julian followed Maritza’s instructions and turned off the location services on his phone.

“Think Rio will buy that you’re just taking a nap on someone’s tombstone?” Maritza asked.

“I dunno,” Julian said. “But it beats explaining that we’re about to summon a dead guy who murdered me.”

Maritza snorted. “Fair enough.”

Catriz lived—or, had lived—only a few blocks from the cemetery, but every step made Yadriel’s chest tighter. The yellow one-story home hadn’t changed at all—chipped paint on the trim, wrought iron fence still sagging at the corner, front steps cluttered with windblown leaves.

The sight of it felt like opening a wound that never healed.

“This is the place,” Yadriel said quietly. He pushed open the front gate, the rusted hinge screaming in protest.

Julian eyed the jagged tips of the fence. “Looks like something out of a horror movie.”

“Feels like one, too,” Maritza muttered, clutching her rose quartz rosary.

“Let’s keep the ghost jokes to a minimum until we’re done,” Yadriel said quietly.

He led them up the steps and hesitated for just a second before turning the doorknob. The door groaned open, and the cool air inside the house wrapped around him like a damp cloth.

It still smelled faintly of incense. The same kind Catriz always burned—sweet and sharp, clinging to the walls like old smoke.

Yadriel swallowed hard and turned on his flashlight. “This way.”

Inside, the dimness was immediate. The electricity had long since been shut off, so shadows pooled thick and heavy in the corners. The beam of Yadriel’s light sliced through the gloom to reveal an unsettling level of tidiness.

“It’s like walking into a spooky Airbnb,” Julian said, peering around.

Yadriel’s light caught on talismans, old candles, and carefully placed relics. “He liked order,” Yadriel said quietly, his light pausing on a photo of his mom, his dad, and Catriz when they were teenagers. “Even if his life was kind of … messy.”

Julian let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“Do you know where his tether is?” Maritza asked, snapping Yadriel out of his thoughts.

“This way,” Yadriel muttered, guiding them to the back room. His pulse quickened as they moved deeper into the house, the air growing heavier with memories he didn’t want.

The back room was as meticulously arranged as the rest of the house, though more cluttered. Part altar, part study, there were candles half-burned on the shelves, bundles of herbs drying by the windows, a bone-handled knife resting neatly on a cloth. Yadriel’s flashlight settled on the gold necklace sitting in the center of it all—a jade jaguar charm catching the light like glowing eyes watching from the dark.

“There it is,” Yadriel said. His voice came out rough.

“Is that—a very angry bunny?” Julian asked, squinting at the necklace.