Arise by Tara Hudson Page A

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 slightest 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