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tumn woods。 Back when things were simple。
〃e on to bed；〃 Steve said。 〃It's almost morning。 Tomorrow we'll figure out how to find Ann and make her swallow that shit。 It'll probably kill her！〃
Ghost sensed unsaid words hanging in the air like river…mist。 He slid under the covers； into the forting pool of Steve's warmth； and waited。
At last Steve said； 〃But I guess that's better than letting the vampires kill her。〃
〃You believe it；〃 said Ghost； softly enough that Steve could pretend not to have heard。
But Steve rolled onto his back and answered。 〃Yeah。 I guess I do。 I saw Zillah's face that night； outside the club…I know that now。 I saw it； and it was all healed up。 I'm sick of lying to myself。 You don't lie to yourself。 You're not scared of what your heart knows。
〃I believe something bad is going to happen to Ann。 I believe it because you believe it so much。 You think Ann will die if nobody helps her。 You believe it so hard that you were ready to sell yourself to Arkady。 To save her； if you could。 And I guess to save me； too。
〃And anything that you believe in that strongly； Ghost； I'm not gonna argue with。 Not in a million years。〃 Under the covers； Steve's hand found Ghost's and gripped it hard； almost painfully。 Ghost heard the rest of the thought： Because I trust you； Ghost。 You and nobody else…and if you believe it； then damn； I guess I believe it too。 The Easter Bunny didn't e through； neither did God or the Haircut Fairy； but you're still magic。
〃Steve 。 。 。〃 Ghost whispered the name。 His heart was swelling in his chest； wanting to join somehow with Steve's heart and bee one live pulsing thing。 Siamese twins joined at the heart； all the beats of their lives measured out together； their blood running through the same miles of veins。
Ghost rested his hand on Steve's chest and found Steve's heartbeat； even and strong。 Under the touch Steve seemed to loosen a little； to uncoil。 Did the shadows beneath his eyes grow paler？ Ghost put his fingers out to touch those shadows； to try to capture them under his fingernails； maybe put them in his mouth and swallow them。 Steve's eyelashes flickered； but at the last moment his eyes stayed open。 He trusted Ghost that much。 You are my oldest friend； you are my only brother。。。。
Ghost touched the raw…silk skin beneath Steve's eyes； the roughness of Steve's cheeks with their four…day stubble； the slowly melting tightness of Steve's mouth。 He laid his head against that steady heartbeat。 He felt Steve's lips shape a word： 〃Ghost 。 。 。〃
He managed to make a small sound in his throat。
〃Don't you ever leave me。 Don't you ever go； man…〃 Steve stopped； but Ghost heard the sudden hoarseness in his voice。
〃No；〃 said Ghost。 〃It won't be me who goes。〃 He could say no more。 Instead he would swallow those shadows smudging Steve's eyes； he would lick them away。 He bent； and instead of finding Steve's eyes； his mouth met Steve's mouth in a clumsy kiss。
They both grew tense。 Ghost thought； No； oh no； that wasn't what I meant to do； and Steve's hands came up to push Ghost away。
But somehow his hands were treacherous； instead of shoving Ghost away they slid over Ghost's shoulders and locked behind his back。 Steve was pulling him closer； Ghost realized。 Maybe he could help Steve now； tonight。 Maybe he could overe that terrible loneliness for a while。 He nudged Steve's mouth open just a little at first； then wide； and their tongues met like two beating hearts。
Molasses； he heard from somewhere。 You still taste like Molasses。
〃Mmmm？〃 said Ghost。 〃What？〃 Their mouths untangled briefly； then met again。
Stray thoughts weren't important。 These minutes had to stretch and stretch； this one kiss had to last for a long； long time。 In a moment Steve would pull away。 That golden flavor on Steve's tongue； that was not Dixie beer。 It was the taste of childhood summers long gone； and laced through it was the
dark taste of fear。 Already Steve was scared of how much he trusted Ghost； he had said so。 This one kiss would end； and there would not be another； because anything beyond this would be too much for Steve to deal with。 It was already freaking him out a little； Ghost could feel that。 But he needed it so bad。
They slept clutching each other as if they might drown in the blankets and pillows。 Ghost stayed awake for a long time。 Steve's head burrowed fiercely into his shoulder； Steve's breathing stirred the fine hair on his neck； Steve's long legs entangled with his。 Ghost knew full well that in the morning Steve would wake； narrow his eyes against the sunlight； and mutter； 〃Shit； man； I was so drunk last night； I don't remember what happened。〃
But tonight Ghost could dream Steve's nightmares for him。 And so he did。
Chapter 29
Ghost walked the streets of old New Orleans looking for Ann。
When he started out from Arkady's shop； he thought he would never be able to do it。 Better they should have hired a private detective； like the guy in Angel Heart。 At least Harry Angel might've had a chance of finding Ann by logic and luck。 But what chance did Ghost have； who knew these streets not at all； who had only his intuition and blind faith to guide him？
At first it seemed that there was too much magic here； that it could only cloud intuition and distract faith。 On every street er was another story； in the elegant shade of each courtyard another hovering spirit。 Some of them were greedy and reached out to his sensitive mind； whispering e in； e into me； listen to my tale。 The buildings and sidewalks themselves seemed to have a susurrant； subliminal voice。
But soon Ghost realized that he was trying too hard。 If he relaxed； he could listen to these sounds with only part of his mind； like a radio playing far away。 If he didn't think about it so hard； his feet would lead him the right way。
He passed a group of kids wearing black clothes； black lipstick and eyeliner。 Silver crosses； daggers； razor blades dangled from their wrists and earlobes。 They passed a joint among themselves； from hand to thin hand。 Deathers： kids who loved the night； loved the bands whose music spoke of dark beauty and fragile mortality。 Vampires were their dream e true； their ideal to aspire to。 Bela Lugosi might be dead； but the deathers would keep him alive in their hearts forever。 At the Sacred Yew one night； Ghost had seen a boy showing off his new tattoo： two tiny scarlet fang marks on the white flesh of his throat。
The kids could dream of vampires all they liked； but their faces bore the undeniable stamp of humanity。 It was in theft imperfections： pimples； scars； the beginnings of laugh…lines。 The real vampires had a uniform sort of beauty； ageless and cold。 Ghost thought of Zillah's face； only imperceptibly older than Nothing's； and then only because of the smirking mouth and the dramatic； wanton eyes。
Would Nothing catch up with Zillah and the others？ Would he reach that same indefinable age and just stop？ Ghost wondered how it would feel to know that you weren't going to age anymore； weren't going to change anymore； that your skin would never grow creased and delicate； your hair would not turn brittle wh