Chapter Nineteen. Julian
NINETEEN
JULIAN
Water enveloped Julian, icy tendrils clawing at his skin as he plunged into the unknown, leaving behind the flickering candlelight—and Yadriel’s shout.
His breath seized in his chest. His hands, numb and clumsy, sliced through the liquid darkness, searching, searching, searching. Panic stabbed through him as strange lights and blurry shapes darted past—none of them Luca.
He wouldn’t let Bahlam take Luca.
The thought rang in his skull like a silent scream. Bubbles streamed from his mouth. His limbs burned, leaden and uncooperative, but he kept going. All around him came the sound of voices—wailing, whispering, clawing at his mind with desperate cries.
Help us. Save us.
The voices chilled him to the bone. They sounded like his nightmares—too familiar, too real. Hundreds of unseen spirits seemed to reach for him, clinging with invisible hands. But he couldn’t think about them now. Not when Luca was down there.
The weight of his clothes dragged him down, each movement sluggish and frantic. His heart pounded with the raw, animal urge to fight.
Then—a jolt. Something brushed his fingertips, and Julian grabbed for it. His heart kicked against his ribs as his hand closed around an arm—small, soaked, familiar. He felt the ridges of a worn sweater, the callouses on small fingers from hours of skating—
Luca.
Relief was a luxury Julian couldn’t afford. The water dragged at him with its unrelenting pull. Disoriented, he clung to Luca, his grip fierce and unyielding, unsure which way led to the surface.
Air, air, air, his mind screamed. His muscles spasmed, his chest burned, and still, he held on, his determination outlasting his body’s cries.
Then—a violent jerk on his leg.
Julian thrashed. Terror tore through him. He was sure Bahlam had him—until the force yanked him up instead of down.
Yadriel.
Realization hit as he felt Yadriel’s strong, unwavering grip. His panic subsided just enough for him to tighten his hold on Luca. Together, they surged through the water, Yadriel’s steady pull from above guiding them toward the surface.
They broke through with a crash. Air knifed into Julian’s lungs as hands hauled at him, one iron grip at his forearm, another hooking the back of Luca’s hoodie.
Yadriel dragged them toward the ledge while Maritza leaned out flat on her stomach, bracing her boots and heaving Luca up by the shoulders.
Julian didn’t let go. Even when elbows hit stone and cold air burned his throat, his arms stayed locked around Luca’s ribs.
They spilled onto the floor in a coughing heap. Water streamed off all three of them, splattering on the cracked stone.
“Luca?” Julian rasped, nose pressed to Luca’s wet hair, his voice raw and frantic. “I got you, I got you, I got you—”
“He’s okay,” Yadriel panted, collapsing beside them, one hand still on Julian’s forearm.
Luca hacked hard, water bubbling from his mouth. Maritza rolled him onto his side and rubbed firm circles between his shoulder blades.
“Eso, eso—let it out,” she said, pushing wet waves from his forehead.
Julian released a strangled noise. The relief was agonizing.
Luca was alive. He was okay.
With a sob clawing its way up his throat, Julian yanked the smaller boy into a hug so tight it could’ve snapped bones.
“Estás bien, estás bien, you’re safe,” Julian said, his voice breaking with each repetition as he clung to Luca, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against his own.
Choking sobs wracked Julian’s body, putting more strain on his already weakened lungs. Luca’s sweater was drenched and heavy, but Julian couldn’t care less—all that mattered was the living, breathing proof in his arms that they had escaped Bahlam’s clutches.
Yadriel crouched on Julian’s other side, his hand finding its place on Julian’s shoulder in a comforting squeeze. “Respira, Julian, just breathe,” Yadriel said, his voice sweeter than any song to Julian’s ears.
Julian nodded weakly, a hiccup catching on the inhale. In that moment, Julian wanted nothing more than to melt into his boyfriend’s touch and sleep for a hundred years.
“We got you,” Maritza said on her knees at his side. Her voice was quieter now, her usual bite softened. She knelt on his other side, offering a half smile that didn’t quite mask the worry creasing her forehead.
Yadriel’s hand tightened. “Todos estamos aquí. Safe and sound,” he added reassuringly.
Julian nodded again, his breath still shaking. The words should’ve helped. But they only reminded him of how close they’d come to losing everything.
Eventually, Julian loosened his grip on Luca, giving him some room to breathe.
“You sure you’re okay?” Julian asked again, slowly regaining his composure.
Luca nodded but didn’t find words. His eyes were huge and unfocused, mouth parted like he’d forgotten what to do with it.
Eventually, they’d have to explain a lot to Luca about the night, but right then, Julian just wanted to go home.
“Let’s get out of here,” Yadriel said like he could read Julian’s mind, his voice rough but steady. “I don’t want to spend another second in this place.”
Julian stood, checking the crypt with a tense glance.
Maritza, dripping wet, nodded in agreement, her mouth tight. “That asshole owes me money for fucking up my hair,” she growled, wringing out her soaked pink-and-purple curls. “I just got it done! Paola’s gonna be pissed.”
Julian suddenly remembered—
His head jerked up. “Wait—where’s Angel?”
He twisted toward the cenote, heart leaping into his throat. The water was still. The eerie blue glow had already begun to fade.
“Gone,” Maritza said grimly, following his gaze. “They escaped while we were busy pulling you out.”
“Why didn’t you stop her?!” Julian demanded, his voice sharper than intended.
Maritza bristled, her glare a warning. “I was busy anchoring all three of you to the living world—my bad for not multitasking!”
Julian winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
She grunted, brushing past to pull Yadriel to his feet.
Julian turned back to Luca, who was still trembling, water dripping down his nose.
“We need to get him home,” Julian said hoarsely. “This is too much.”
Yadriel nodded. He stepped closer and cupped Julian’s cheek with a wet hand. “You did good.”
Julian’s chest tightened. He nodded back, grateful and gutted all at once.
Maritza and Yadriel flanked Julian as he helped Luca to his feet. His knees nearly gave out, but Luca leaned into him instinctively.
Together, they climbed the steps out of the crypt. Every splash from their soaked shoes echoed behind them.
Outside, the night air hit them like a slap—cold and clean after the weight of the underground.
Julian didn’t release Luca. His hand stayed locked around his friend’s shoulder, keeping him close as they made their way through the cemetery. Behind them, the old church loomed, a dark shape against the moonlight. Its windows stared blankly, empty sockets watching them leave.
Julian had already texted Rio.
meet me at the cemetery. it’s bad.
For all their fights, all the yelling, Julian felt a little steadier knowing Rio was on his way. He really didn’t know how he was going to explain this one.
As they walked, Julian’s eyes scanned the shadows. The trees shifted. The headstones whispered. Every breeze prickled the back of his neck. Paranoia gnawed at him like teeth—Angel could still be out there. Watching. Waiting.
They didn’t breathe easy until the cemetery gates glinted ahead.
“We need to tell my dad and Lita,” Yadriel said, voice low.
“Yeah,” Julian said, eyes on Luca. “But first—home. We gotta get him warm. Then I’m checking on the others,” he added, worried about Omar, Rocky, and Flaca.
The guilt sat heavy in his chest—not just about Angel, but about dragging Yadriel and Maritza into this. About Luca. About all of it.
Luca hadn’t said a word since they’d left the crypt. He stood at Julian’s side like a ghost, staring back at the cemetery with wide, blank eyes.
“Hey!” a gruff voice cut across the path.
Rio stepped from the Stingray, worry sharpening into that flat, angry look he always got. He took in the three of them—soaked, shivering, pupils blown wide—and the lines at his mouth hardened. “Jules.”
“We’re okay,” Julian started, breath hitching.
Luca coughed again, a thin ribbon of water spilling onto the path.
Rio didn’t buy it. He shifted to Luca, crouched at eye level, palm hovering but not crowding. “Look at me, little man. You good?”
Luca blinked, nodding too fast.
Rio’s attention snapped back to Julian. “Do I need to call an ambulance? Did he hit his head? How long was he in the water?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it tolerated no bullshit. “Tell me what I need to do.”
Julian opened his mouth, then shut it. Stone, water, green light crashed together behind his eyes. “It’s … complicated.”
Rio’s jaw worked. “Okay. Then give me the part that keeps him alive and this family safe.”
Julian forced the words out. “If you see Angel, stay away. Don’t let them in the shop or the apartment. I mean it.”
Rio’s expression sharpened. “Angel, huh?”
Julian nodded. “I mean it.”
Rio stared at him for a moment, but then nodded. “Done.” He jerked his head toward the car. “Get in.”
Yadriel touched Julian’s wrist. “Go. We’ll lock things down here and tell Lita.”
“We’ll text you,” Maritza confirmed, giving Julian’s shoulder a squeeze.
Julian nodded. It was hard to leave when he always felt the safest by Yadriel’s side, but he did it anyway.
“Sit on a towel,” Rio warned. “Don’t mess up my seats.”
“Your precious blue leather,” Julian grumbled, the words more automatic than funny.
“Get the blanket, too, before you both freeze to death,” Rio added.
Julian opened the trunk and grabbed the old beach towel and a faded San Marcos cobija—the one with the white tigers.
Sand still clung to the fabric from their last beach trip.
He draped the towel over the passenger seat, then handed the blanket to Luca, who disappeared beneath it with only his eyes peeking out.
Julian slid into the passenger seat and pulled Luca in against his side, tucking the blanket around both of them. Rio got behind the wheel and cranked the engine. They pulled away from the cemetery, the iron gates shrinking behind them.
Julian stared out the window, heart pounding with everything left unsaid.
Secrets pressed against his ribs. Angel. Bahlam. The spirits in the water. Catriz’s warnings. The fact that Julian still felt like something was crawling under his skin.
But for now—they were alive.
Julian glanced at Luca, bundled in the blanket, eyes fluttering closed. His chest rose and fell slowly.
That was enough.