Sisters of Salt and Iron (The Sisters of Blood and Spirit, #2)(6)

I would have to attend this concert. It might be fun. Or dangerous. If I was lucky, maybe both. All those warm, breathing bodies, ripe with fear, practically begging to be terrified. Delicious.

“Hello.”

I didn’t jump. It’s a well-known fact that ghosts don’t scare easily. I turned my head. Standing there beneath the lamp across the drive from me was a boy who looked to be a little older than I was. From the way he was dressed, I’d say he was actually a century older than I was. Young men didn’t wear suits much anymore, especially not jackets with tails.

“Hi,” I said.

Hands in his pockets, he crossed the pavement toward me. He was tall and pale with thick black hair and bright blue eyes. He had a nice smile—the sort that made my heart flutter. I might not actually be alive in this dimension, but I was fully intact in my own. Even if my heart didn’t actually beat, I was still capable of the sensation of physical response.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he remarked.

I folded my arms over my chest like my sister did whenever she felt defensive. “I haven’t seen you, either.”

He stopped right in front of me, still smiling. “I’m Noah.”

“Wren.”

His left eyebrow lifted. “An unusual name. One I’ve heard before. You wouldn’t be the ghost who helped destroy Josiah Bent?”

I stiffened. Bent had been a terrible creature, and he’d hurt Lark’s—our—friends. Because of that, and because I believed he needed to be destroyed, it hadn’t occurred to me that anyone at Haven Crest might harbor resentment for us getting rid of him.

But I wasn’t afraid, and I wasn’t going to lie. “Yes.”

His grin widened—he had nice teeth. “I have to thank you for that. Bent was a first-class bas—uh, scoundrel.”

“You can say bastard in front of me. Women aren’t considered delicate creatures anymore.”

His smile turned rueful. “That is a pity. Still, I’m happy to see that the loss doesn’t extend to beauty nor grace.”

Was that a compliment? “Are you flirting with me?”

Noah leaned a little closer. “Perhaps. Is it working?”

“I think so.” I smiled at him. I liked this game. It was fun, and it made me feel silly and light. “Maybe you could do it some more just to be certain.”

His dark eyes brightened. They were like a night sky—I could see stars reflected in them. “I’ve met many girls on these grounds, and you’re the first with whom I wanted to flirt.”

I laughed. “I don’t believe that.”

Noah’s head tilted as he shot me a bashful look. “Fair enough, but you’re the first one I hoped would flirt back.”

Oh, he was good. Lark wouldn’t trust him. In fact, I could hear her making retching noises in my head. But my sister wasn’t there. I was alone with a cute boy who wanted to spend some time with me, and there wasn’t any drama around it. We were both dead, so what was the worst thing that could happen?

I smiled. “I don’t really know how to flirt.”

He made a clucking sound with his tongue. “For shame. I would be happy to instruct if you are in want of a teacher.”

We were so close I could feel his spectral energy mingling with mine. It was like a warm breath on bare skin. We weren’t tangible to the living, or in their world—unless we manifested—but to each other we were solid. Real.

My gaze drifted to his mouth—he had perfect lips—before rising to meet his. God, those eyes! “Do you really think you could teach me?” I asked with a smile.

He arched a brow. “I think you have a natural talent for it.”

I laughed. “Maybe you’re just so good that I’m learning already.”

A bright smile parted his lips. “That may be true.” He offered his hand. “Would you care to dance with me?”

I said the words that I’d heard said countless times in romantic movies—“There isn’t any music.”

As though on cue, the sound of a cello and violin playing together in perfect harmony drifted around us, soft as a breeze.

“How did you do that?” I asked, looking about. I actually expected to see a couple of ghosts nearby, playing for us.

“When you’ve been around as long as I have been, you learn how to tap into lingering spectral energy.”

I nodded. “You found a looper.”

A looper was a common kind of ghost—the kind that are stuck, either knowingly or unaware, in a particular moment or action. Some are doomed to jump off that bridge night after night, or walk the same stretch of road, scream the same blood-chilling scream. They’re like ghost-zombies, mindless and driven only by compulsion. Sad, really.

“There are quite a few of them here,” he said. “I’ve just brought them a little closer. I’m not hurting them.”

The concern in his tone made me like him more. “I hadn’t thought you were.”

Noah looked relieved. “You’ll dance with me, then?”

I nodded. “I’m not very good. I’ve never really learned.”

“Ah.” He grinned. “Something else for me to teach you.” He held out his hand. I took it and put my other hand on his shoulder as his arm went around my waist.