by Hudson, Tara
“What about your mom?” he asked her. “Won’t she be pissed that all of us underage kiddos went to a club?”
“Josh, I grew up in the French Quarter. The fact that I didn’t have an after-school job at an S&M shop is enough for her.” She gave him a wry smile, one that strongly reminded me of Jillian’s. When Jillian wasn’t scowling anyway.
“Besides,” Annabel added, “what are you afraid of? That you’ll wake up without a kidney?”
“No, that I’ll wake up without any internal organs.”
Annabel snorted. “This club is totally safe, I promise. And anyway, we thought it was the perfect place for Amelia to have some fun—kind of creepy, really crowded. No one will notice or care if you two are dancing, making out, whatever.”
I blinked back. “That’s really … thoughtful. Thanks.”
All around me, everyone except for Jillian beamed. Alex, in particular, looked pleased, which made me wonder whether the club had been his idea originally.
In contrast, Joshua still looked doubtful. He leaned his head toward me and whispered, “You really want to go?”
“Well … yeah. I really want to go.”
The crazy thing was, I did. At this moment I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do more than enjoy myself for a while. I wanted to touch Joshua without fear of discovery, or fear of disappearing. I wanted to spend a few hours not worrying about what lay in store for me. I even wanted to dance.
The idea of it was so freeing, I actually giggled. My first genuine, truly free laugh in what had to be months. When Joshua heard that, a slow smile spread across his face.
“Okay then, Club Kid,” he said. “Let’s go unpack.”
Chapter
TEN
You should stop worrying about your outfit, Amelia. You look perfect.”
The compliment startled me, and I jumped a little to the side, away from its speaker. It was something that Joshua would have said. In fact, he had said it, many times. But right now Joshua walked at least twenty feet ahead of me. He was so engrossed in his conversation with Annabel, he didn’t even notice when I began to lag behind.
If Joshua and I had kept pace, he might have seen me twist at the fabric of my skirt with one hand, might have noticed me gnaw on my lower lip.
But Alex obviously noticed. And although he’d only known me for a few hours, he obviously felt comfortable leaning close and whispering that compliment into my ear.
Upon seeing me jerk away, he held up both hands in a pose of surrender.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t.... It’s just … I’m …”
I floundered with my words and then took a quick, shallow breath. “I’m just not used to people talking to me. Besides Joshua.”
We passed into the circle of light from a gas lamp, and I saw Alex’s gaze shift forward, to Joshua. Just before we crossed back into the shadows, Alex’s eyes reconnected with mine.
“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” he asked. “That I can see you too?”
Even in the darkness I could see his smile. It was playful, teasing. The smile of someone who considered himself my friend.
I automatically wrapped my arms around my waist, hiding the tightest portion of my dress. I don’t know why, but I got the strangest impression that Alex didn’t just see me, he saw through me. As if he could read every hope and fear on the planes of my face.
I shrugged, trying to keep my expression impassive. “It’s a little unexpected. But no, it doesn’t bother me.”
“I hope not. You have no idea how nice it is to finally meet you.”
I felt one corner of my lip tug downward. “Am I the first ghost you’ve met, Alex?”
He shook his head. “No. But you’re definitely the nicest.”
“So far.”
The sound of Alex’s laugh reverberated off the walls of the narrow street. “Okay: you’re the nicest so far.”
I was about to correct him, to tell him that I’d been cautiously nice—so far—when I heard Joshua’s voice calling out to me.
“Amelia? Where are you?”
“I’m back here,” I answered loudly. Then I added, “With Alex.”
Suddenly Joshua reversed course, pushing between Drew and Hayley and walking toward us.
“Sorry,” he said when he got closer to me.
His eyes darted briefly toward Alex. For just a second Joshua let his hand hang in the air near my waist, like he wanted to place a possessive hold on me. He must have thought better of it, though, because he then dropped his arm and tucked both his hands into the pockets of his black slacks.
“I lost track of you for a minute, didn’t I?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “No big deal. Besides, it’s not like you left me completely alone.”
I turned to Alex, to ask that he make room for Joshua on the sidewalk. But without warning, Alex had already disappeared. I squinted into the darkness and saw that he’d taken Joshua’s place next to Annabel, far ahead of us. I hadn’t even heard him walk away.
“Weird,” I murmured.
I turned back to Joshua and saw that he’d stopped in the street. He now stood a few feet behind me, motionless except for the hand he ran through his hair and then left on the back of his neck. Inadvertently adopting that nervous pose I loved so much.
Maybe Joshua worried about abandoning me for a few minutes since things between us had been so strained lately. Or maybe he worried about leaving me alone with Alex for more than a couple of seconds.
At the thought that even Joshua occasionally got jealous, I laughed softly. The corner of my mouth lifted slightly, into a little half smile. I clasped my hands behind my back and took a few deliberately slow steps toward him.
“Whatcha doin’ back there, Joshua?” I teased.
“Trying to figure out how to tell you I am sorry for leaving you alone,” he said, smiling back at me sheepishly. “Really.”
My grin lifted higher as I sidled up beside him. “Don’t be. It gave me a chance to check you out from behind.”
Joshua’s eyes widened, and then he laughed. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”
“Not tonight,” I said, slipping my arm through his. I ran my eyes down his outfit: black pants and shoes; a white dress shirt, its sleeves rolled to his elbows underneath a winter coat. It was the closest thing Joshua had brought to a costume, and it managed to make him look more photo-shoot than costume-party ready.
Not that I was complaining.
I released a small sigh—half contented, half wistful. “You look great, Joshua.”
He chuckled low as we began to stroll forward together, obviously not in a hurry to catch up with the rest of the group. He pulled me closer to him; and, for the briefest second, I felt the brush of his coat’s wool against the crook of my arm.
From the corner of his eye, Joshua gave me a lingering appraisal. “You always look great, Amelia.”
I shook my head. “I always look the same, Joshua.”
“Yeah—great.”
“Huh,” I grunted. “Sure.”
I absently ran my free hand across the top of my skirt and then pulled my fingers through the thick waves of my hair. This time it was Joshua who noticed me fidget.
“Stop second guessing yourself,” he said gently. “You look beautiful. Perfect.”
Perfect.
The same description Alex used. But when Joshua said it, I didn’t feel as though I was being scrutinized. Instead, I felt an undeniable warmth spreading out from my core and up to my face. Once it got there, I couldn’t stop it from bursting forth into an enormous smile.
All of a sudden that impulse returned. The one that made me want to tell him about everything: Eli’s warnings, the bizarre dream of my father, my plan to disappear.
Mostly, I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to say it out loud, at least once.
I had just opened my mouth, preparing to let fly my deepest secrets, when Annabel’
s voice stopped me.
“We’re here,” she called back to us.
My mouth snapped shut, and I felt the strangest rush of longing and relief.
I had no time to deal with either since the group had slowed enough for Joshua and me to finally catch up. All together, we rounded a corner, and suddenly a loud clamor assaulted us. The noise was so great, I don’t know how I hadn’t previously noticed the wild tumult of shouting and laughter and pulsing bass.
In front of us, spilling patrons and music into the side alley, was the club. I could hardly see the entrance through the thick mass of people pressing to get inside. On the second and third stories, iron balconies looked ready to collapse under the weight of too many bodies and too many strands of red Christmas lights.
Everyone was in costume, as Hayley had promised. I caught glimpses of pitchforks and black capes and elaborately gory makeup. Many of the partygoers also wore identical masks: skeletal faces, sparkling red under a thick coat of glitter.
While Joshua and I stared up at the spectacle, a group of girls pushed past us, all dressed in gauzy sheeting and slathered with white face paint. Ghosts, apparently.
Watching them, Drew leaned around Hayley and yelled over the noise: “Hey, Amelia—do those girls have it about right?”
“Oh, yes,” I drawled. “When we die, we all get white sheets. Standard issue.”
Our group laughed loudly in approval—particularly Alex, who I’d swear gave me a quick wink. When he turned away, I swept my eyes over the people I’d just met. Drew, Hayley, and Annabel had all dressed in refreshingly unspooky costumes: as a giant chicken, an angel, and a ninja, respectively. Alex, however, stood out most from the crowd in that he didn’t stand out. Aside from a pair of gloves and an overcoat, he hadn’t changed for the party. He still looked every bit the young politician.
Maybe that is his costume, I thought.
“Let’s go,” Annabel commanded us. “Before the wannabe ghosties take our private room.”
Everyone turned in unison to follow her toward the club. Although we moved along with them through the crowded alley, Joshua pulled me back slightly and leaned close to my ear. He spoke in a normal tone; but with all the noise, his voice sounded like a whisper.
“What do you think about all this?”
“It’s definitely … festive.”
“Not exactly Bing Crosby and hot cocoa, is it? Do you just want to go back to the house?”
Looking up at the masked figures writhing all over the club, I grimaced. Then I shook my head and reminded myself to stay positive. To enjoy tonight.
“Nope,” I said, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward. “I want to dance.”
I didn’t wait to hear his response, nor did I look back for his reaction. Instead, I focused on Hayley’s broad white wings bobbing their way through the crowd in front of me. Soon we made it past the sea of bodies and up a few steps to the front door.
Where most entrances in the Quarter had solid wooden doors, a pair of black iron gates guarded this building. Next to them, a hugely muscled man stood with his arms folded across the chest of his tight T-shirt. He looked like a living gargoyle, all scowl and stone. I half expected him to breathe fire when we approached. But to my surprise, Annabel leaped over the final step, used his shoulders to hoist herself up, and gave him an enormous kiss on the cheek.
“Annie,” he cried over raucous sounds coming out of the gates. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Finals,” she shouted. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too, babe.” With a brawny arm, he pushed open one of the gates. “Claudette said you’d be here tonight—your room should be ready by now.”
Annabel gave his forearm a pat of thanks and made a motion with her head that meant we should go inside. The others followed her; but Joshua and I lingered in the doorway, which was too jam-packed with bodies to permit much of a view into the club.
“Are you sure you’re sure?” he said, trying to talk over the drumbeat of a new song.
I simply nodded, tightened my grip on his hand until the fire ignited between our palms, and then crossed the threshold.
The club was so dark inside, we could hardly see the path forward. High above, I could just make out a chandelier entwined with Day of the Dead masks and shimmering tinsel. Someone had replaced the chandelier’s normal bulbs with red ones. Aside from the little pools of flickering light from the candelabra on the walls, everything glowed bloodred: the mirror behind the bar; the gigantic Christmas tree decorated with plastic skeletons; even the dancers themselves.
Annabel turned a red-hued face to us and mouthed something. Joshua held one hand to his ear, showing her that we couldn’t hear ourselves, much less her. So she extended an arm, pointing to the spiral staircase at the back of the room.
We continued to shove our way through the dancers who clogged the path to the stairs. I didn’t even try to avoid touching people, so every now and then, I felt a dull press in the numbness where someone came too close to me. Judging by Joshua’s pained expression, he could actually feel every misplaced elbow and knee.
As we struggled and shoved, I stared at the rest of club’s decorations. Underneath its veneer of eerie Christmas paraphernalia, the place actually looked quite chic. It had a sort of old-world elegance to it, with damask paper and velvet booths running along its walls. The chandelier, the candelabra, the gilded mirrors—creepy in the dark, but I bet they looked lavish in the daylight.
And although the dancers wore nightmarish outfits, I could tell through their glittering skeleton masks and makeup that these people weren’t actual ghoul-seekers. Most looked just as chic as their surroundings, probably part of New Orleans’s young, painfully attractive set.
Suddenly, it seemed to me as though the club and its attendants were merely playing at the macabre. No real spooks waited in the corners. No demons lived under the stairs. Other than Joshua’s relatives and their friends, I doubted anyone in this building could even sense me, much less hear or see me.
Realizing that I had nothing to fear, I felt a heady sense of relief. Excitement, even. It shot up my spine and through my veins like adrenaline. Made me want to react. Made me want to set myself free, if only for a few minutes.
Joshua had just stepped past me on his way to the staircase, so I tugged at his arm. He met my gaze and then tilted his head to one side, questioning. I gave him a sly grin and used my free hand to point to the crowded floor we had just crossed.
Dance? I mouthed.
He raised both eyebrows questioningly. Then he started to grin too. He shrugged off his coat and passed it to Drew to carry up to the private room.
Free of the coat, Joshua looked … well, great, as I’d told him earlier. The word “delicious” sprang to mind, and I had to repress a giggle. I took one steadying breath, trying to stay cool. But as I watched him walk toward me, my excitement intensified. He placed both his hands in mine, and the fiery sensation burst across my skin, tingling along my palms and wrists.
At that point I did giggle. Then I said an immediate prayer of thanks that the loud music covered the sound.
Still grinning, Joshua spun us out into the crowd. He guided us past the other dancers and held me tighter, running his hands to my shoulders then down my back. His touch was so electric, I almost didn’t notice the effort it took to get to the center of the dance floor, directly beneath the red chandelier.
Once there, Joshua pressed closer—closer than we usually allowed ourselves to be. Suddenly, I felt the brush of his skin, real and warm against my own, and my breath caught in my throat. All around us, the music began to swell. As we swayed together to its rhythm, I felt dizzy, drunk off the heavy drumbeat and the dark, hypnotic melody.
My eyes met Joshua’s, and even through all the red, I could still see their striking midnight blue. By now his hands had strayed down my shoulder blades, leaving a trail of fire wherever they crossed. He rested them against the small of my back and then, with the slighte
st tug, pulled me so close I could almost feel his heart beat through his shirt. When he leaned down to brush his lips against my collarbone, I arched my neck and took one shuddering breath.
And that’s when I saw them.
Faces.
Ones that obviously didn’t belong here. And by here I meant the living world.
They were scattered throughout the crowd—ghastly, stark white and motionless against the undulating red. And all of them stared at one thing.
Me.
My head snapped forward, and I pressed my hands against Joshua’s chest. We continued to dance, but I now stared into the crowd, my head whipping to the right and left. Through the thick mass of dancers, I caught only the briefest glimpses of pale white, standing out in the sea of red. The faces were so isolated, so obscured by the movement of the dancers, I couldn’t be sure I saw them at all.
For a second I wondered whether I was just seeing the wannabe ghost-girls.
But I didn’t think so. Not when everything else in here—the lights, the walls, the people—looked like it had been dipped in blood.
While I kept searching, Joshua started to dance us in a circle. Although he moved slowly, the circular movement soon coupled with too much head swiveling, and my earlier dizziness returned in full force.
Worse, actually. Although Joshua and I continued to move to the rhythm, I felt like we were spinning out of control. My head swam, and a real, disorienting wave of nausea hit me.
I clung to Joshua, leaned over his shoulder, and tried to catch my breath. Tried to quell an overwhelming need to retch.
And there, mere inches away from me, a face stared back. Like it was waiting for me.
It was so close I only saw its most prominent features: pale flesh, black eyes. And row upon row of sharp teeth, glittering in a crazed, wicked smile.
I felt its breath, icy and insidious against my cheek, and I screamed.
Chapter
ELEVEN
After that, I didn’t think. I just reacted.
Within seconds I had Joshua at my back, my arms stretched behind me and wrapped around him in my best attempt to protect him from whatever had just come after us. I felt a feral snarl spring to my lips; and, for the briefest moment, I closed my eyes. To calm myself. To prepare.
