Page 33 of The Devil and His Ghost

Xander and the ghost woman finished their dance. The smile she wore was brighter than the moon and stars overhead as she held both of Xander’s hands. In a final act of chivalry, he leaned down to kiss her cheek. Her pale flesh turned warm with color while a glow lit at the center of her chest. That blinding light grew large until it swallowed her form. When the light cleared, the woman had vanished.

I grinned. “She’s moved on.”

Xander dropped his hands. “I guess so. She—”

He paused as he faced me, eyes locked somewhere over my shoulder. I followed his line of sight and was stunned to see a handful of other ghosts standing to the side of the terrace. They were each in outfits from varying eras, yet they all smiled hopefully at Xander and I.

“Um,” I began hesitantly, “hello.”

“We would like to dance, please,” a tall Black gentleman said, waving at himself and the other spirits with him.

Xander appeared at my side and gave me a sideways glance. “How exciting. A ghost dance party.” He dropped his voice. “If people see us and lock us up, it’s your fault.”

I opened my mouth to hiss at him, but he swept away to offer his hand to the next waiting ghost. A new playlist of classical music now played from my phone, so Xander led the ghost through the waltz to the new piece. Meanwhile, the gentleman offered his hand to me, which I hesitantly accepted.

Normally, the feeling of a hand on mine would’ve sent a ripple of disgust and anxiety through me, but while I hated being touched by other people, ghosts had always been different. Their touch was akin to a whisper against my flesh as opposed to a true grip or caress. Their bodies were less firm and real, which made stomaching contact with them easier. The touch of a ghost didn’t feel like skin but rather the memory of it.

The gentleman’s black facial hair was perfectly trimmed, and a mauve suit hugged his muscular, warm brown body. He would’ve been one of the most dashing men here—dead or alive—if it wasn’t for the red, gaping hole in the center of his chest. Without meaning to, I looked at the torn open flesh for a second too long.

He squeezed my hand as much as his ghostly body would allow. “Do not worry. The blood has long since dried, so it will not dirty you.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried.” Nibbling my lip, I scrutinized him with a tilt of my head. “So, you know you’re dead?”

He chuckled and twirled me once before pulling me back in. “I do. It was a great shock at first. But I enjoy being here now.”

“Are you ready to move on, too?”

“No,” he answered with a charming grin. “I simply wanted to dance with this beautiful lady before me. I can only dance with my fellow spirits so many times before it becomes monotonous. How nice that someone like you stumbled into this party this evening.”

I returned his friendly smile. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to change things up for the night. As he said, some of the ghosts around us looked none-the-wiser to the reality of their existence—no fatal blows to see, no disheveled or ghastly appearancess—while others, like my partner, wore their final moments for all to see. One woman had a red and purple indention around her neck, while another scantily dressed lady had deep slices cut into her arms. What a mixture of those who knew why they were here as opposed to those who were still stuck wondering and asking what was happening. Hopefully, Xander and I could give peace to that latter group tonight.

My partner led me through a ballroom dance, though I was nowhere near as graceful or skilled as the transparent ghosts twirling in pairs around us. He tilted his head roguishly and asked, “The lady is unpracticed in the waltz?”

My cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry.”

“Two left feet,” Xander threw out as he twirled by with his own partner.

I glared in his direction and had the urge to smack that smirk off his handsome face. Because he was still just as handsome as he had been the day I left. Hell, he was probably even more handsome than he was back then, despite not aging.

I resettled my attention on my ghostly dance partner. He finished twirling me around before bending to kiss my knuckles. With a thanks extended toward me, he stepped aside to let another apparition take his place.

This was going to be a long night.

Xander and I went down the line, giving each soul their turn. Some moved on from this afterlife once their dance was over while others happily returned to the bustle of the party inside. Not all ghosts sought to be free of their perpetual residency in the spirit world. Some even enjoyed being a ghost, able to haunt and live as a phantom with no true boundaries or fear of death.

As an older gentleman finished guiding me around the outdoor terrace, he burst into light. When the glow cleared, I looked around to find there were no more waiting spirits. I let out a tired breath and turned to find I wasn’t entirely alone.

A serene classical piece continued to play from my phone while Xander and I stared at one another. The air grew heavier, and wordlessly, he offered me his hand. I took it and let him pull me in close. He held the small of my back while I gripped his upper arm. Our fingers intertwined, and slowly, we swayed to the music with the light of the party glowing through the distant windows and the glimmer of the stars above.

“I knew it. I much prefer dancing with you than a ghost,” Xander declared with a grin.

“What do ghosts feel like for you as a demon?”

“Depends on how much energy they have. If they have enough energy, they feel like this.” He squeezed my hand and waist. “Solid. Fleshy. Just colder than a normal person.” He spun me before pulling me back into his arms. “You?”

“They aren’t really solid or fleshy for me. But I can still touch the air around them when they have enough energy to create that illusion of a physical body.”

“Because you’re gifted,” he explained. “Other people wouldn’t be able to feel or touch them like that.”