按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
iron。 Far to his left； beyond his line of vision； the lights of Bourbon Street glittered； the crowds still staggered； the very stars in the sky swam…bright round stars； great glowing ones； hallucinatory stars。
At the end of the hall Arkady slipped into bed； and Ghost caught one dry lonely thought： He is too pale； too fragile； my love would surely have shattered him。
Above it all； above Ghost and Steve and Arkady and the rest of the gaudy town； a small cold moon hung。 A moon like a sliver of frosted bone； a moon to bring down winter。
Ghost turned away from the window。
Steve was already in bed； his arms wrapped around his pillow。 The moonlight smudged crescents of shadow beneath his eyes。 With his fingers he had bed most of the tangles out of his hair； and now it lay along his cheeks and forehead； limp with the dirt of the French Quarter； with the sweat of a long road trip。 He looked terribly young； younger than the first time Ghost had laid eyes on him； walking through those sun…dappled autumn 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 white； your hands would stay smooth and strong。 He shivered。 He wouldn't like it； looking in the mirror every day and seeing the same face； with none of the sorrow and laughter of life reflected there。
Ghost's heart twitched at the thought of Nothing being one of those blanks。 The other three had faces like stylized masks； smooth and white； with only drunken madness blazing out of their eyes。 Even Christian's face was blank； though a faint frigid sorrow gleamed in his eyes。 But Nothing。。。 Nothing's face was so young； the ers of his mouth so tender； his eyes full of wondrous pain。 All that should not be wiped away by immortality。
But Ghost was here to save Ann； not Nothing。 Still； he could not stop hurting for Nothing； no more than he could stop his heart beating； But 。 。 。 Help the ones you love； his grandmother had told him； help them when you can； and after that； mind your business。 Your gift doesn't give you the right to go rearranging other people's lives for them。 You might see their souls； but they won't always want you to be their mirror。
Yes； he could see Nothing's soul。 It was in those haunted eyes； and in the shadows under them…fatigue； drink and chemicals； yesterday's makeup。 Nothing was a lost soul because he wanted to be。 It was what he had always wanted； it was his birthright。
But Ann had been bewitched。 Done in by the light of chartreuse eyes； by loneliness； by the opium of Zillah's spit and the poison juices of whatever grew inside her。
And what was that？ All along； Ghost had been thinking of the baby as a dark lump of blood； the seed of Ann's death。 And it was。 But it was also Nothing's brother or sister； and Nothing was not evil。 Only lost； as surely lost as Ann's child would soon be。
Ghost imagined himself trapped in the womb； his soft bones crumbling； the poison searing his raw new skin away。 The poison he and Steve had asked Arkady to make。 Had ended up giving Arkady twenty dollars to make。
Ghost leaned against a wall and closed his eyes。 There were a million sides to everything。 Most people were able to block out some of them。 Ghost sometimes thought he saw them all…not that it helped。
〃e in and kiss me。。。〃 whispered a voice that seemed to emanate from within the wall。
He jumped and opened his eyes。 Voices from nowhere made him more nervous than usual these days； but this hadn't sounded like the voice in the closet： it was faint and dry； almost too tiny to hear； like the voice of an insect。
When the voice didn't speak again； Ghost looked around and found himself lost。 He didn't even seem to be in the French Quarter anymore。 To his back were forbidding； scorched…looking apartment towers。 A wide； busy avenue stretched in front of him； a small gate opened in the wall to his left。 He slipped through the gate and entered the city of the dead。
Ghost had heard about the cemeteries of New Orleans。 The groundwater here was so high that the coffins had to be entombed above ground。 There was no real earth to bury them in； if you tried to dig a hole； it would quickly turn into a pit of oozing mud。 A heavy rain could float coffins and corpses to the surface。 But nothing he'd heard had prepared him for the blinding whitewashed landscape of Saint Louis Number One； possibly the oldest cemetery in the city； certainly the gaudiest and most haphazardly arranged。
There were coffins bricked into the walls； layer upon layer。 That was the first thing Ghost noticed。 Some of the brickwork had collapsed； and he could see ashy shadows within the wall； the occasional glint of sunlight on bone； brick； or broken glass。 No wonder there were voices in these walls。 At his feet a maze of narrow pathways stretched away into the necropolis。
Farther in； he was amazed at how tightly packed together the tombs were。 In some places he had to turn sideways and squeeze between them。 High peaked vaults loomed over the path。 Tall iron crosses jabbed into the sky； bristled along the tops of the intricate ironwork fences that bordered several plots。 Almost all the tombs were wh