Arise. Tara Hudson

Joshua began, but the boy cut him off midsyllable.

      “You, and the ghost next to you,” he said matter-of-factly. Then he locked his eyes directly—unmistakably—onto mine.

      

      I stayed frozen near the entrance of the drawing room even when the boy in the suit began to smile. The smile seemed genuine enough, its warmth spreading to his gray eyes until they lost their steely edge. But the moment he pushed himself out of the chair and into a standing position, I jerked backward, taking two quick steps into the foyer.

      The boy, however, reacted much faster than I did. Almost as if he anticipated my fear. With two broad strides of his own, he stood right in front of us, hand extended like he wanted me—not Joshua—to shake it.

      “Welcome to New Orleans, Amelia.”

      My jaw dropped.

      I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when I’d walked into the room, but a formal welcome certainly wasn’t it. I peeked at Joshua, who stood motionless beside me. Judging by his expression—eyes wide, mouth slightly gaping like mine—Joshua had no idea who this boy was, either.

      The boy in the suit could see me, obviously, which meant he was a Seer—one who’d already had his triggering event. But how did he already know my name? The only person who could have told him about me had to be … Ruth? That didn’t make any sense, since he greeted me like one might an old friend, not some supernatural enemy.

      Suddenly, I felt my defenses rise. I didn’t take too well to strangers who knew more about me than I knew about them. Blame it on past experience with a certain blond ghost.

      I was just about to tell him to back off when Jillian strolled into the room, flopped unceremoniously into the chair the boy had just vacated, and then glanced up at him with an arch sort of smile.

      “See, Alex?” She addressed him directly. “I told you she was annoying.”

      I blinked back, stunned. Jillian had been the one to tell this boy—Alex—who I was? Not only who I was, but how I was?

      Even though she’d just entered it, Jillian didn’t look the least bit surprised by this strange scene. She sprawled across the wingback chair, legs swung over an armrest and face turned up expectantly to the boy in front of me.

      And … was I crazy, or did she look rapturous, too? Flirtatious, even? Like she desperately wanted this boy to pay attention to her.

      Whatever Jillian may have wanted, the boy’s eyes stayed locked onto mine. Waiting for me to react to his greeting. When I didn’t, he waited for one more second, hand still hanging in the air, before he swung his body toward Joshua and offered him the introductory handshake instead.

      “Sorry if I was being rude earlier,” he said. “I guess I just feel like I know you already. I’m Alexander Etienne—a friend of Annabel’s. We’re freshmen at Tulane together, and she invited me to spend Christmas break with your family.” He twitched his head sideways, acknowledging the black-haired girl in the other wingback chair. Then he extended his hand a tiny bit closer to Joshua. “Please—call me Alex.”

      Joshua looked at Alex’s outstretched hand for another beat before reluctantly reaching out to shake it.

      I thought he would say something defensive to this Alex person. Make some kind of denial on my behalf. Instead, he eyed the rest of room and then asked, “Okay—how many of you can see her?”

      “Joshua!” I cried, taken aback by his sudden frankness.