Sisters of Salt and Iron

by Kady Cross

  My date. I never thought I’d call someone my date. Never thought I’d ever meet a boy who was a ghost like me.

  “No,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “Lark doesn’t think I’m scary at all.” That was a lie. There were times when I knew my sister found me terrifying, but she loved me anyway. I never understood why I was so frightening until I saw Lark in my world. Sometimes people didn’t have to be hideous or monstrous to be frightening. In fact, simply looking “not right” could be disturbing enough.

  Noah relaxed. “Good.” He turned to me with a soft smile. “I cannot imagine anyone thinking you anything but perfect.”

  “Oh.” That was the only word I could remember at that moment. He was so handsome, and so tall, and so saying everything I wanted to hear. Lark would tell me he was too good to be true. That I shouldn’t trust him.

  Sometimes, my sister didn’t know what she was talking about.

  “Are you having fun?” Noah asked. “Do you want to stay? Or can I steal you away?”

  I glanced around the room. I was having fun—sort of. As much fun as a dead girl could have in a room full of people who couldn’t see her. But then my gaze fell on Kevin.

  He was staring straight at me. Or rather, he was staring at Noah. With the veil between worlds thinning, his abilities as a medium were magnified. My wish that he could see me there with another boy had just come true.

  He looked like someone had punched him in the throat. I had hoped for regret, not pain. The satisfaction I had thought I’d feel wilted under an emotion I couldn’t quite identify.

  I turned away, facing Noah, who thankfully hadn’t realized we had an audience. It wasn’t too difficult to smile at him. “Let’s go,” I said. “This isn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

  Noah took my hand, and then we were gone, back to the grounds of Haven Crest where we talked and danced to our own music for hours. And I concentrated all of my attention on the boy I could have, rather than the one who could never be mine.

  LARK

  Wren had taken off with Casper the Friendly Douche a few hours earlier, and I hadn’t seen her since. It wasn’t like her to just disappear on me, which meant she was all twitterpated over Mr. Darcy. Noah. Whatever.

  I was not jealous. I was, however, worried. What if this guy was a jerk? Wren didn’t know anything about relationships outside of TV and movies, and Noah had spent at least part of his existence among the living. Any guy that polished and pretty had to be a player as far as I was concerned.

  I really wanted to be wrong, but something about him bothered me.

  I was not—repeat—not jealous.

  A few of us stuck around after the party to help clean up. It wasn’t a terribly late night. Mace and Ben volunteered to drive those who’d had too much Halloween “spirits” home.

  Carrying a recyclable bag full of soda cans, I walked into the kitchen. Sarah and Kevin stood in front of the sink. He leaned back, slightly, as though trying to put as much distance between them as he could when she had him practically pinned between herself and the counter.

  “He’s my friend,” Kevin said, his voice low, his hands gripping the edge of the sink behind him.

  “What am I?” Sarah demanded.

  Okay, I didn’t have to be a genius to figure out what was going on. “The friend’s girlfriend?” I volunteered. Was this any of my business? Nope. But Mace had saved my life, and had become a good friend. I felt strangely protective of him, and in the hierarchy of friends, both Kevin and Sarah were near the bottom of my list.

  Sarah jumped back, putting several feet of distance between them. She looked pissed. Kevin looked guilty—and maybe a little relieved? Sarah must have seen that relief as well, because she made a noise of disgust and pivoted dramatically on her heel. She shot me a glare as she stomped past me and out of the kitchen. I raised a brow and said nothing.

  I took the bag of cans over to the blue bin and set it inside before turning to look at Kevin. He was flushed. “Thanks.”

  I tilted my head. “For what? Keeping you from becoming even more of a jerk?”

  He laughed. I hadn’t expected that. He laughed so hard, his eyes watered. Or maybe those were tears. I couldn’t tell. He was a hot mess.

  “Yeah,” he said with a nod as he wiped at his eyes. “For that.”

  I never understood what Wren saw in him, but at that moment I felt bad for the guy. He looked really effed up.

  “Do you really like her?” I asked, moving closer to him.

  Kevin shrugged. “Not enough to lose Mace over her. He’s been my best friend since elementary school.” He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Did Wren tell you about us?”

  Both my brows shot up. “Wren knows?”

  “Shit.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “She didn’t tell you that she saw us kissing?”

  “Uh, no. Otherwise I would have taken you aside and kicked your ass long before this.” Wren was keeping all kinds of secrets, it seemed. Didn’t she trust me? Or did she just not want to hear what I might say? If she’d told me about Kevin and Sarah I would have shot my mouth off, and I would be the first to admit just how much of a bitch I could be.

  Or worse, my sister had felt too awful to even talk about it—which really made me want to take a swing at him. No wonder she’d grabbed onto Mr. Darcy.

  Folding his arms over his chest, Kevin looked me in the eye. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I just wanted to connect with someone.” He laughed again. “God, I sound so pathetic, don’t I?”

  I frowned. “No, not really.” And then, as the thought occurred to me, “You love my sister, don’t you?”

  A look of horror washed over his face. “Is she still here?” He even glanced over his shoulder as though he expected to find her standing there.

  “No, she’s gone.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Good. Stupid, right? Not like we can ever be together.”

  I shrugged. “Not until you’re dead.”

  This time when he laughed, it seemed more out of a sense of amusement. “Something to look forward to.”

  I smiled. “Sure.”

  Kevin’s brows drew together. “Who was that guy she had with her? Do you know him?”

  “You saw him?” It had taken Kevin a long time to be able to see Wren, and even then it had taken a lot of focus for both of them. It made sense, I guess, that with Halloween’s approach his abilities would sharpen.

  “Yeah. He looked familiar. Who is he?”

  “Noah,” I replied. “That’s all I know. I called him Mr. Darcy.”

  He grinned. “You would. His clothes were more Victorian, though.”

  “You’re splitting hairs, Sixth Sense.” He hated when I called him that. And when had he become a historical fashion expert? “If you don’t want to discuss your feelings for Wren with me, that’s cool.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, I don’t see the point. You’ve figured me out, and talking about it just hurts. She hasn’t told you about this new guy?”

  “No. I just met him tonight. I don’t think she’s known him long. She’s just thrilled to find a cute dead guy, I think.”

  “I know him from somewhere, though.” His frown deepened. “You think he’s cute?”

  Somehow, I managed not to laugh. I smiled, though. “I think she does, though my sister seems to have a thing for dark hair and blue eyes.” I didn’t mention that I actually thought Noah and Kevin looked a bit alike, because pining over a dead girl was no way to spend your life.

  Kevin nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks.”

  “If you remember where you know Noah from, let me know, okay? Wren hasn’t been exactly chatty about him.”

  “Sure.”

  “Hey—” I felt the sudden need to change the subject �
��—you want some help taking this garbage out?” I knew from previous visits to the house that his parents put the recyclables and garbage in bins in a little shed out back to wait for pickup.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  We each had two bags as we walked outside. Everything at the party had been disposable to cut down on dishes to wash—and to narrow the margin on dishes that idiots could break.

  It was dark out and chilly. It had been a warm fall, but October nights in Connecticut were going to be cold, no matter how warm the day had been. I had my arms wrapped around myself as we hurried back to the house.

  There was a guy standing right in front of the door, blocking our path. It took me a moment to realize he was a ghost—they looked as solid as real people to me for the most part, but there was a weird “feel” to them that I couldn’t quite explain.

  This guy had been in his late twenties when he died. He had long shaggy hair and was wearing bell-bottoms. I was going to guess he died in the ’70s, and from the smell of patchouli, sweat and vomit that seemed to cling to him, I figured it had been an overdose that did him in. Although, he looked pretty clear-headed now. And angry. And all of that anger was staring at Kevin.

  “Hey, Woodstock. What’s up?” I chirped, trying to draw his attention.

  His dead gaze flickered to me and then dismissed me, as though I were nothing more threatening than a mote of dust.

  “Kevin McCrae?” he asked.

  Kevin was still, tense, but his expression was blank. “Yes. Who are you?”

  Woodstock grinned, revealing teeth that had seen better days. “Death,” he replied.

  And then he lunged.

  WREN

  “Who was that boy?”

  I glanced up at Noah. We were back at his building at Haven Crest, dancing to the music that lingered from many, many years earlier. Spectral energy was like that—it hung around long after it was created, waiting to be discovered. It was like tuning a radio station to the right frequency.

  “What boy?” There had been so many at the party.

  “The one in the strange green long johns. I swore he looked right at me.”

  Oh. Him. “That was Kevin. He’s a medium.”

  “Ah. That explains it. This time of year must be difficult for his kind. What is this Kevin’s last name?”

  I didn’t want to tell him. I don’t know why, but talking about Kevin with him felt wrong. “McCrae.”

  “Irish.”

  “American.” Kevin’s family had come over from Ireland so long ago it hardly mattered anymore.

  Noah gave me a little smile. “Still Irish, dear girl.”

  I arched a brow. Dear girl? “Are you still English?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “A man’s country is all he has. It’s what defines him as a man.”

  “I thought it was character that defined a man.”

  He laughed. “Cheeky girl. You have me there.” He glanced over my shoulder at something I couldn’t see, his gaze narrowing. He nodded once. When I was able to glance in that direction, there was nothing there.

  “Beg your pardon,” Noah said. “I was just shooing away another resident who thought they might join us.”

  I smiled. I liked that he wanted me all to himself. “I’m sorry that the party wasn’t more fun for you.”

  He whirled me around. “I don’t understand most modern social behaviors, but it was pleasurable to me to simply spend the evening in your presence.”

  “I could listen to you talk all night,” I told him with a sigh. “Hurray for English boys.”

  “Hurrah for the Melinoe.”

  “What’s that?”

  He smiled, and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Just an old Greek term for beautiful girls. For you.”

  I couldn’t hide how that made me feel, so I glanced away. I didn’t know much about boys and dating, and flirting. I couldn’t even tell if he was being sincere.

  I wanted him to be sincere.

  The tall grandfather clock against the far wall chimed the hour. It was midnight. I felt a frisson of energy race up my legs to swirl in my stomach. In my arms, Noah seemed to glow a little brighter.

  “Did you feel that?” he asked. “One day closer to All Hallows’ Eve.”

  “I’ve never felt a jolt like that before.” My fingers tingled.

  Noah grinned. “It’s because you’re here. You don’t spend much time with the dead, do you?”

  I shook my head. “Not really, no. And if I do, it’s in the Shadow Lands.”

  His handsome face darkened. “That place. They expect us to skulk about there, while we’ve as much right to this world as the living. Did we ask to perish before our time? To be made monsters in our own home? How is it we ‘haunt’ a place while the living reside there? Or worse, cast it aside like trash to wither and decay?”

  He was so angry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Suddenly, the tension drained from his face, and the Noah I’d come to know was there again. “Forgive me. Sometimes I give into the unjustness of my plight rather than appreciate what I have.” He smiled flirtatiously. “Such as the company of a beautiful young lady.”

  I preened under the compliment, lowering my eyes to hide the joy his words inspired. Only Kevin had ever called me beautiful before.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” Noah suggested. “I want you to see how the grounds once looked.”

  He held my hand as we drifted through the peeling wooden door, out into the night. Outside, the exterior of the Haven Crest campus looked as it always had to me—old and run-down. Its beautiful architecture abandoned and left to rot, feeding the malevolence and despair of all the souls bound to it.

  “It doesn’t look any different,” I said, unable to hide my disappointment.

  Noah squeezed my hand. “Close your eyes.”

  I did as he said.

  He kissed me—his lips soft and warm against mine. My soul fluttered. When he pulled away, my first response was to pull him back, but he didn’t go far.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

  I did, choking back a gasp at the sight that met my eyes. The electric lamps that had flooded the grounds with light had been replaced by flickering lanterns in glass cases on high black poles. The grass was thick and rich green. The trees were shorter, and gravel paths replaced cracked asphalt. But it was the buildings that were truly spectacular. Redbrick with gleaming white trim. Windows lit from within with golden light. Steps unbroken and straight, some with columns that stood straight and smooth rather than pitted and peeling.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  “Horrible things have happened here,” Noah said softly. “But there were good things as well, things that unfortunately have been forgotten by many.”

  Other spirits had joined us—ghosts from across the ages. Some were male, some were female. Some were young, some old. There were people of different ethnicities and backgrounds standing together—class didn’t matter to the dead. We were all transfixed by the sight of Haven Crest in its prime.

  “You did this?” I asked, turning to Noah.

  He shrugged. “I merely made it possible for you to see it in another dimension. The Haven Crest you know still exists, but this is how it sees itself. I think this version is much prettier, don’t you?”

  I nodded. The jolt I’d felt and all this beauty only made me more certain that Haven Crest was its own entity. “It’s like something on Masterpiece Theatre.”

  “Masterpiece Theatre? Never heard of it.”

  I laughed. “No. It’s a little after your time.” I gripped his hand tighter. “Noah, thank you for showing me this.”

  He smiled. “It’s important to me that you see this place as I do, that you understand why those of us
who choose to be here are reluctant to go.”

  My gaze was still busy taking it all in. How different it looked! “I wish Lark could see this.”

  “The living are incapable of it. They see only death and decay.” He said it with a sneer.

  “Lark isn’t like most of the living,” I informed him—maybe a bit defensively. “She would be able to see this, if it was shown to her.”

  “Well, then, maybe we’ll find a way to make her see.”

  The thought of the look on my sister’s face when she saw this beautiful place made me grin. “I’d like that.”

  “I would do anything to make you smile exactly as you are right now. I’ve never seen anything as lovely in all my days—alive or dead.”

  “You’re a flirt,” I accused, practically fluttering my eyelashes.

  “You inspire it in me,” he replied with a wink. “Shall I show you about the grounds?”

  I hesitated. The last time I’d been in the main buildings Josiah Bent had tried to bend me to his will and badly injured my friends.

  “I assure you no harm will come to you,” Noah comforted me. “And the man who once tormented you is gone from this place—forever. Your sister saw to that.”

  I believed that. When Lark put her mind to banishing a spirit, she did a pretty good job of it. I did, too, come to think of it. The last time being on these very grounds. “Won’t some of them hate me for getting rid of Bent?”

  “Josiah Bent was a terrible man, and we’re glad to be rid of him. He thought of nothing but himself, and had nothing but blatant contempt for this place and those of us who had been here long before he showed up. Come with me, you’ll see.”

  I let him lead me up the gravel path toward the main building. The ghosts around us came closer. Some of them reached out as though they wanted to touch me. Others smiled and shied away. But they all looked happy to see me, as though we were old friends. They would never look at Lark like this, not with her belief that most ghosts were evil.

  I smiled back at them, and for the first time in my existence, I was happy that my sister wasn’t with me.