Chapter Twelve. Julian
TWELVE
JULIAN
He lobbed the first rock at the second-floor window.
The soft clink barely registered, but Julian tried again, this time hitting the glass with just enough force to make the curtains stir.
After a beat, the window squeaked open, revealing a very groggy, very confused Yadriel.
His dark hair was tousled, falling messily over his forehead as he squinted down.
“Julian?” Yadriel’s voice was a husky whisper. “Why are you throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?”
“Let me in!” Julian called up, trying to sound casual, but the edge in his voice betrayed him.
Yadriel stared at him, visibly debating whether to scold him or simply let him freeze. With a sigh, he finally nodded and disappeared back inside. A few moments later, the front door creaked open. He stood there in pajama pants and an oversize hoodie, rubbing his eyes as Julian slipped inside.
“Breaking in, sneaking out—is this a relationship or a heist movie?” Yadriel muttered, still half asleep.
Julian snorted, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Bit of both.”
The joke landed awkwardly. Yadriel blinked again, this time more awake, and his eyes swept over Julian—the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept shifting like his skin didn’t fit. He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly along Julian’s arm.
“You okay?” Yadriel asked.
Yadriel’s thumb brushed the St. Jude at Julian’s throat. “In four, hold two, out six.”
Julian closed his fist around his medal. Air went in ragged and came out steadier.
“Did it say your name?” Yadriel asked quietly.
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 quinceanera. 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.
But Lita simply sighed. The edge in her posture softened as she took in Julian’s pale face and hunched frame.
“Okay,” she said after a pause. “He can stay the night. But!” She wagged a finger at them. “You have to sleep in the living room. All three of us! Got it?”
Yadriel rolled his eyes, clearly used to her antics. “Sí, Lita.”
Julian was just thankful Lita wasn’t dragging him outside by his ear.
“Gracias, senora,” Julian added, aiming a small, grateful smile at Lita. “I really appreciate it.”
Lita gave him a long look, then nodded. “Don’t thank me yet,” she warned with a sly grin. “You haven’t heard me snore.”
She turned and disappeared back into the kitchen. “I know just what you need to feel better!”
Yadriel’s brow furrowed as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his hoodie, tapping the screen.
Julian sat up straighter, stomach twisting with dread. “What are you doing?”
“I’m telling Rio you’re here.”
Julian’s voice shot up half an octave. “What? No way! He doesn’t need to know! It’s fine—seriously!” He tried to snatch the phone but Yadriel dodged him easily.
“You want him to wake up, find you gone, and ground you until graduation?” Yadriel gave him a pointed look.
Julian opened his mouth, closed it, then groaned and flopped back against the couch.
“Wait—you’re calling him?!” he asked, eyes widening as Yadriel brought the phone to his ear.
“Yes,” Yadriel said simply, voice calm as the line began to ring.
Julian sank back into the couch, burying his face in his hands. “This is such a bad idea,” he muttered into his palms.
The line clicked as it connected and Yadriel straightened. “Hi, Rio. Sorry for waking you up—” he said, his cheeks turning red. He was probably as scared to talk to Rio as Julian was.
Julian cringed at the mental image of his brother rubbing his eyes, already irritated. He could almost hear the tired growl of his brother’s voice through the silence.
“Yeah, Julian’s here,” Yadriel continued. His eyes flicked toward Julian. “He’s—he’s having a hard time. Can he stay here tonight?”
The words hung in the air, heavy and loaded.
From the kitchen, Lita called out, cheerful and much too loud, “You can stay over, too, if you’d like, Rio!”
“Lita!” Yadriel hissed. “Not helping!” To Rio, he added, “My Lita is gonna, uh, chaperone.”
Julian stifled a groan, slouching farther into the couch as Yadriel returned his focus to the call. The seconds stretched into an eternity as silence filled the line.
Yadriel finally broke it. “So, uh, is it okay if he stays the night?”
Julian pressed his palms into his eyes and wished the couch would swallow him whole.
The silence stretched long enough to make Julian fidget. He bit his lip, tension buzzing under his skin.
Yadriel winced suddenly, pulling the phone slightly away. “He wants to talk to you.”
Julian’s stomach dropped. “Do I have to?”
His stern look was answer enough.
With a sigh like someone being led to execution, Julian took the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Uh … hey, Rio.”
There was a pause, then Rio’s voice came through—low, scratchy, and tired. “What’s going on, Jules?”
Julian’s throat tightened. “Nothing. I just … needed to get out of the apartment.”
Rio’s tone sharpened. “Why? What happened?”
“It’s not a big deal,” Julian said. He hated how wobbly his voice sounded. “I just needed some air, okay?”
Another pause.
“You can’t keep running off like this,” Rio said.
Julian bristled. “I’m not running off. I’m at Yadriel’s.”
“I trust him,” Rio said. “But I don’t gamble when it comes to you.”
Julian didn’t know what to say, but the floor felt a little steadier under his feet.
The line went quiet again, and for a second Julian thought the call had dropped.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Rio added finally. “Take you to school.”