Alana Blues

by Yolanda Sfetsos

  Cain nodded. His eyes scanned the room. “Sure I do, but they're not my problem, or yours. This is how we make our living, bro."

  "Yeah ... sure,” Matt whispered. This subordinate behavior he'd somehow adopted during their years together was really starting to bug him. He was as tough and capable of taking care of business as Cain was, so why did he continually put up with his crap? It was the bond of friendship. That's what he continually told himself, and the fact Cain had saved his ass more than once while against the demonic. But sometimes Cain's attitude was too much to take.

  "Okay, I've just zeroed in on two gorgeous chicks. One's a blonde and the other a brunette—your specialty."

  "I don't have a specialty."

  "Sure you do, come on.” Cain dragged him off the stool, past the thick crowd and the air of smoke and alcohol that always penetrated these places. They stopped in front of a small table toward the back.

  There they were, two scantily dressed women who appeared to be in their early twenties.

  "Hello, ladies!” Cain called as he checked them out. “Couldn't help but notice you were both here alone and in desperate need of company."

  The women giggled and exchanged glances.

  Matt cringed inwardly. He couldn't believe that macho shit actually still worked on some women. Any female who fell for cheap talk like that wasn't someone he was interested in.

  "I'll take that as a yes,” Cain said with a wink. He fell into the seat beside the blonde, one arm extended behind her. “Sit down, man."

  "I've got to get going."

  "Matt, come on, these beautiful ladies look like they're in the mood to party. And who better to show them a good time than you and me?” Cain made no attempt to lower his voice, to show at least some level of respect toward the two women.

  He sighed. The thought of having to endure hours of meaningless chatter so they could each take one of these ladies back to their motel room, weighed heavy on his shoulders. He didn't want this.

  Matt shook his head. “No, I'm outta here."

  He was halfway out of the place when Cain grabbed his arm and turned him around. “Hey, what the hell's going on with you, huh? We can have those chicks in bed in a couple of hours!"

  "I'm not interested.” He pulled his arm away.

  The anger was buzzing deep within Cain; it was written all over his face. “Listen, I'm just trying to help, okay? I didn't want to say this, but I think you're losing your fucking mind over that dead chick."

  That's it, Matt thought as he automatically lifted his right fist. He whacked his friend in the mouth. He'd had enough. There was only so much disrespect he could deal with before it was time to make Cain realize he was crossing all sorts of lines.

  Cain took a step back, blood pooled out from the side of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

  "Hey, boys, anymore of that and I'm going to have to ask you to leave!” The man behind the bar held a cricket bat in his hands. He looked as if he meant business.

  Matt turned away.

  "Fine, if you don't want her, there's more for me!” Cain called behind him.

  The brush of cool air that hit his face sobered him up a little more after the handful of beers he'd had. Luckily, they hadn't driven here. The pub was a short walk from the motel. Right now, Matt needed a walk to clear his mind before he returned to the laptop and found out some concrete things about spirits.

  * * * *

  Alana felt his anger as he walked down the street and away from the temptation his friend had tried to force him into.

  Cain had to know that if Matt indulged in sexual activity with another woman, their connection would be severed.

  She knew that now was as good time as any to approach Matt again. Even if it took her hours, Alana would make sure that he opened up to her this time.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Four

  It was 3 a.m. by the time Matt shut down the laptop and decided to get some sleep. It was already Halloween, and he wondered when Alana would return to explain everything to him.

  The motel owner had placed a jack-o-lantern outside every motel room door. The candle inside it set off an eerie glow below the window.

  He found it strange that, unlike their American counterparts, Aussies didn't really get into the full spirit of Halloween. He'd been tempted to research the foundations of the holiday, properly known as Samhain to the pagans, but didn't. It would remind him too much of the crazy stuff his mother used to try to get him to do to honor the spirits around them.

  The idea of skeletons and horror movies seemed more intriguing to him anyway. Pop culture was something he could appreciate.

  He'd noticed more and more kids venture out during Halloween Eve to knock on unsuspecting neighbors’ doors. Of course, most didn't have anything to dump into their waiting bags and ignored the door all evening.

  Alana was the only Aussie he'd ever met who actively participated in the trick-or-treat tradition. Her fascination with American movies equipped her with enough knowledge to step into the role of candy-giver to the children who chose to brave the Sydney suburban streets. Being Spring in the Southern Hemisphere already made the days longer, so children had plenty of time before nightfall to knock away. He'd never forget her face when the first group of kids knocked on the front door.

  Before Alana had gotten the phone call that took both of them out of the house. He'd never found out who called her either.

  Matt lay back on the bed. The new sheets the cleaner had laid out smelled of bleach and mothballs, but none of that mattered to his weary head.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The prickle of activity buzzed in his ear as he shut his eyes. A few seconds later, Matt opened them again, when the warm rush of air swept up his bare arms.

  "Alana,” he whispered.

  "Yes, it's me.” She offered him a beautiful smile that lit up her pale face.

  "Are you really here, or am I dreaming again?"

  "You were dreaming before, but now I'm really here,” Alana answered softly. Her fingers wrapped around his.

  "But how can that be?"

  "Matt, out of all the people in the world to be asking that question, I don't think you should be one of them.” Her breath was warm and very close to his as they shared the same mattress.

  He closed his fingers around hers, lifted her hand to his lips, and brushed her knuckles. It was real. She was as solid now as she'd been before her death.

  "I just don't understand what's going on."

  "Isn't that why you spent so long on the Internet? Reading about ghosts and spirits?” The teasing was obvious. “You won't find any answers there."

  It brought a smile to his face. “Have you been watching me all night?"

  "Most of it, but that's not important. What does matter is that we're finally alone. I have so much to tell you. Things that you'll find hard to believe but, if you want to be alive on All Saints’ Day, I suggest you listen to everything with an open mind.” Her eyes were intense as they met his.

  "You're scaring me. What's so serious?"

  "I'm sorry, but it'll probably affect everything that you know and have believed during the last few years."

  A spark deep inside him lit up. And although he couldn't wait to hear what she had to say, Matt's attention was elsewhere. On the shine of her wavy black hair, on the way her chin pointed downward in the middle. On the way her chest rose and fell when she spoke, and the small gap between her breasts that allowed him to see the shadow of her cleavage.

  "You're so beautiful.” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and she smiled. “I've missed you."

  "Matt, you have to listen to me. This is important."

  "I know it is. I promise to listen to every single word, but first I need to tell you something that I was planning to tell you last year, before...” his voice trailed off.

  "You don't have to say it."

  "Yeah, I do. I wanted to confess that I'd fall
en in love with you. I suspected you felt the same but just assumed we had forever to find out.” He chuckled wryly. “It's ironic that you were taken away from me before I had the chance to admit my feelings. I've always had trouble with emotions, ever since my mother."

  "I know all this, Matt. I'd read it in your face and actions back then, and even after my death. And you're right, I felt the same, but someone decided to get in the way."

  "I never caught the bastard who did it."

  "And unless you listen to me, you never will."

  Matt closed the distance between them to kiss her. He pressed his lips against hers softly but, when she responded, he opened his mouth up to her further. Moaned when she let him slip his tongue inside and taste her.

  "Do you still feel it, Alana?"

  "Feel what?” she whispered along his lips.

  "Do you still feel the love between us?"

  She nodded, intense eyes so close he could see his own reflection inside. Matt captured her face in his hands and just looked at her. Really took in every detail so that it would stay clear in his mind forever. He never wanted to forget a single inch of her. The way her hair fell to the sides of her face in even strands that caught the eerie glow of the pumpkin's candle streaming into the room. He'd opened the blinds on purpose, in hopes that she'd return and he could have as much light as possible to observe her.

  Never forget her, he thought.

  Matt's lips widened into a smile as he closed the distance between them again, to indulge in the passion he'd thought would never get a chance to escape after her death. Yet, here she was. With him, so close he could once again smell the apple-scented shampoo that always took over every other smell around her.

  He inhaled it, removed his lips from hers to bury his face in her soft, rich hair. She was heavenly. As the thought of their closeness aroused his erection, Matt found her neck and kissed it. The way her skin tasted, so sweet and soft, was exactly what he'd imagined it would be like a thousand times in his daydreams.

  Why had he wasted so much valuable time?

  Alana moaned as one of her hands pressed against his bare chest. Warm fingertips traced the ridges of muscle he worked so hard to keep. Working out was the only thing that helped him ease his grief as well as vent some of the anger and regret that constantly hounded him about Alana's loss.

  When her hand found his groin area and pressed lightly against his strained erection, he shivered. Forced his mouth onto hers again as he lost his hands inside her luscious hair. Oh, she was beautiful. Like nothing and no one he'd ever had the opportunity to enjoy.

  "I don't know if I can let you go after this, Alana,” he whispered against her lips. “I can't believe we can physically be together, even though you're..."

  "Your ability allows us to be together. When I'm around you, I'm no longer just a spirit.” Alana touched his lips with her fingers. “And if I can stop your death again, then maybe you won't ever have to let me go."

  His heart beat faster as he tried to convince himself he'd misheard her comment. Her fingers fell away from his lips.

  "What did you say?” Matt gazed into her dark eyes only a few centimeters from his.

  Tears shimmered inside the dark irises as she tried to look away, but he held her face steady with his fingers on her chin.

  "Tell me what you said."

  She sighed. “Matt, that bullet wasn't meant for me."

  "What?” His breath quickened, heart resounded inside his head like an annoying drumbeat from a song he didn't want to remember.

  "The person who shot me wasn't aiming for me. The bullet was supposed to get you, I just..."

  "You just what?"

  "I stepped in front just in time."

  "What?"

  "Don't you remember?"

  Matt's eyes widened as her fingertips caressed his temples.

  He kept his eyes pinned on hers. The memory pierced his brain with so much tenacity he nearly fell back. But her slim fingers were there to keep him steady. Dark eyes held him fixed when he tried to look away.

  "You look really cute when you smile, you know that?” Matt said to her with a smile of his own as he held the door of her small car open for her.

  "You don't look so bad yourself,” she returned as her eyes scanned the area over his shoulder.

  "Are you expecting anyone?"

  Alana shook her head, black hair swayed. “The only person I'm expecting is you, in one hour at my place! Don't be late, okay? I'm gonna prepare a feast for you. And then we're going to spend all Halloween night watching horror movies! I hope more neighborhood kids come out to trick-or-treat tonight."

  "Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

  She shook her head, eyes darkened. “No Matt, I need to take care of this by myself. Just one hour, okay?"

  "All right, but by then the kids might've gone home."

  "Trust me. They'll keep going for several hours yet. During the last few years, I've had my fair share of ghosts and vampires come to my door even after nightfall.” Alana offered him a wink.

  The thoughts from a year ago echoed inside his mind. He'd loved the idea of watching horror movies with her all night. Even imagined making his first move on Alana as Michael Meyers made his way into the third Halloween movie.

  He couldn't wait to touch her fair skin.

  But that's when she'd made the strange move, something he hadn't thought about again until now. Until she forced him to really remember it all. She pushed past the open car door and pressed her body against his for a hug—a small hug, their first real body-to-body contact.

  That's when the bang ignited around him, so loud it sounded like a canon. He didn't hear the gun, just the bullet strike her chest as she pulled back a little and almost made him lose his step.

  He opened his eyes to the present just as she lowered her fingers from his head.

  "Alana, why did you do that?"

  A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I did it for you, because I knew he would strike then. I had a visitor who told me when it would happen. I just wasn't sure of the how. I thought I'd be able to stop him after he called me and asked me to meet with him. He asked that you come, too, but I was positive that if I kept you away ... I caught sight of him in the bushes a split second before the bullet was shot. It was almost as if she pushed some sort of extra perception into me. All I had to do was stop it. I couldn't let you die like that. I loved you so much ... I still do. It's why I'm here now."

  Matt wrapped his arms around her, closed the distance between them until he could reach the zipper at the back of her dress. He found the top and followed it down the track to the small of her back. Without another word he pulled back enough to stare at her face, hands on her shoulders and then lower as he pulled the purple dress down on either side.

  He released a breath at the sight of her milky skin. The cleavage between those well-formed breasts inside the red lace bra.

  Alana stood up.

  She squirmed out of the dress, pushed it down her curvaceous hips with a little sway. She stood in nothing but her matching underwear, arms at her sides as if she were not sure what to do next.

  But he knew.

  Matt jumped off the bed. His erection throbbed at the sight of her almost-naked body. He wanted her so much everything inside him ached. Ached to feel her skin against his, ached to pound his erection deep inside her.

  She was so beautiful, such a turn-on. Yet, the emotion also swelled up inside him, like a freight train racing through his heart.

  There was so much happiness, it was edged with a little crazed agony.

  He stood in front of her, only under garments kept them apart now. Matt had wanted this so much, for so long. He couldn't believe they had a second chance to unite the way they should've last Halloween. What was it about Halloween though? Why had someone tried to kill him on that night and, instead, had taken her from him? He was positive she had all those answers, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

 
Not with this beauty almost naked in front of him.

  His hand quivered when he extended it toward her skin. Fingertips skimmed down the side of her arm as she closed her eyes to his touch. He took a small step forward and laced the fingers of both hands around hers, mouth over hers.

  Alana leaned her head back. He was a little taller and found it very alluring. Matt opened his mouth wider over hers. Slowly, fast, trying to keep the frantic rhythm the desire pushed him to fulfill. It took every bit of control he had left as pure passion ignited deep inside his stomach. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone before.

  He kissed her quicker, the erection so hard he shook when she let go of his hands and dipped hers inside his boxer shorts. Only two strokes and he felt pleasure like none before, but he didn't want to risk any accidents and kept his mind focused.

  Matt stepped away from her to pull his boxer shorts off. He flung them on the floor as she re-wrapped her palm around him. Without the restriction of the fabric, she slid her hand all the way up his arousal and all the way down with ease.

  He closed his eyes. His hand skimmed the tops of her bra cups. He licked his lips, felt the desire mount. He was enjoying this so much he could've stayed like this for an eternity, but he wanted to touch her, too.

  "Alana.” He opened his eyes and put a hand over hers to stop her movements.

  She looked up into his eyes.

  Matt turned her around and unclasped her bra. He pulled it down her arms, watched it fall in a lacy circle to the floor. He then kneeled downward, took the silky fabric of her panties all the way down to her feet.

  She kicked them away.

  "Matt.” The whisper was sultry, sexy.

  He pressed his naked body against her back, wrapped both arms around her until his hands met her breasts. They were soft and round in his hands, heavenly. He cupped them, thumbs twirled around her large soft nipples until they hardened. Even then, they were silky soft below his fingertips, and he wanted to taste them. But not yet, Matt wanted to take his time.