Chapter Four. Julian #4
Before anyone could answer, a sound split the air—a low, bone-deep screech that made Julian’s blood run cold.
There was only one thing in the world that could make a noise like that.
The three shared a brief look before Julian took off. He didn’t think—he just ran in the direction of the maligno’s screech.
Julian’s sneakers slapped against the cracked pavement, punctuated by his rapid breaths. The scar on his chest throbbed with a phantom pain as if in response to the maligno’s call. Fear of what might lurk just beyond the reach of the dim streetlights chased Julian’s heels, but it didn’t matter.
If someone was in trouble, he was going to help them.
They skidded to a stop behind the restaurant, the stench of spoiled grease and rotting food punching Julian in the nose. He scanned the alley, and there—near the dumpster—deep gouges had been clawed into the stucco wall. Black, tarry muck oozed in streaks and puddles across the ground.
“There—look!” he said, pointing. “Can you see that?!” he asked, not trusting his own eyes.
Maritza nodded, hands balling into fists at her sides. “I can definitely see it.”
“Check this out,” Yadriel said as he crouched down. Trash was spilled across the ground, disturbed by a path of chaos leading to the darkened corner where the dumpster sat.
“It’s gotta be a maligno, right?” Julian asked, his voice steady but his insides churning as he frantically searched the area. He fought the urge to turn and run, taking Yadriel and Maritza with him, but he knew they couldn’t leave—not until they found the maligno on the loose.
Something—someone—watched them. Julian could feel it pressing against the back of his skull, heavy and cold, like the moment before a storm breaks. The darkness seemed to bend inward, swallowing the edges of the alley until only their small circle of light remained.
Then, from the shadows behind the dumpster, the maligno spirit lunged toward them, its form dark and shifting like black smoke made flesh. Julian barely had time to react before it was on them, cold and angry energy blasting through the air.
“Shit!” Julian barked, yanking his board up like a shield. The impact rattled his spine as the spirit slammed into it, knocking him sprawling but buying Maritza enough time to yank Yadriel out of the way.
The maligno shrieked, wheeling toward them again. Julian scrambled to his feet, heart jackhammering, adrenaline drowning fear.
Yadriel was immediately on it. “?Muéstrame el enlace!” he cried, his dagger blazing as the golden thread flared to life.
“Pendant—there!” he shouted, spotting where the thread led to a broken locket glinting among spilled trash.
The maligno lunged for Yadriel.
The world narrowed to one rule—nothing touched Yadriel.
Julian darted forward first, snatching a rancid towel from a waterlogged box. He cracked it across the creature’s face with a snap that echoed off the alley walls.
“Over here, Sludgefather!”
The spirit reeled, shrieking, shadows thrashing. Julian staggered but didn’t run. He kicked hard at the locket, sending it skidding closer to Yadriel’s boots.
Yadriel snatched it up.
The maligno whirled back, catching Julian in the chest with a swipe that sent him crashing to the concrete. Pain flared white-hot, breath knocked out of him.
Through the haze, he saw Yadriel lift his blade—
But then a blur of motion cut through the alley, fast and precise.
A curved dagger of what seemed to be black glass met the maligno’s strike, sparks showering as green glyphs pulsed faintly along the blade.
The figure moved like water, redirecting the spirit’s thrashing swings with practiced ease.
One hand wielded the portaje, the other tucked neatly behind their back as if they didn’t need it.
The maligno recoiled with a hiss.
Yadriel didn’t waste a second.
“?Te libero a la otra vida!” he cried, and brought his glowing dagger down through the golden thread.
The maligno exploded into radiant light, marigold petals spiraling upward in a silent burst before drifting gently to the pavement.
For a heartbeat, everything was still.
Julian lay on the concrete, heart still hammering. He pushed himself up on an elbow, eyes locking on their rescuer.
The stranger stood tall, two long bubble braids pulled back from their sharp, angular face. Golden brown eyes caught the faint glow of the neon signs, flashing like embers. They crouched, lifting the broken locket in one hand, turning it over with a quiet sigh.
“Too late,” the stranger murmured. “Already crossed over.”
Julian got himself up and Yadriel raced to his side.
“Are you okay?!” he asked, running his hands down Julian’s arms, his chest, making sure he was in one piece.
Julian nodded, bewildered. “I think so,” he said, but his attention was locked onto the stranger.
“What the hell was that?!” Maritza whispered sharply, retreating back to Julian and Yadriel to put distance between her and the stranger.
Yadriel shook his head, eyes wide. “I have no idea.”
Julian stepped forward cautiously, wiping blood from his palm. “Hey—uh, thanks. That was…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say.
The stranger stood up and gave a sly grin. “Fast?”
A surprised laugh jumped in Julian’s chest. “Yeah. Fast.” He blinked. “Who—?”
“I’m Angel,” they said lightly. “And I’m a bruje.”