Alana Blues

by Yolanda Sfetsos

  For all he knew, this could be their first and last time together.

  His erection pressed against her lower back when he leaned over to clamp his mouth over her shoulder. His tongue licked at her smooth skin.

  Alana shivered, and it increased his arousal.

  He kept one hand over her left breast while his right traced the smooth line of her stomach and into her pubic hair. Even that felt smooth to his fingers, as his palm pressed against her and she spread her legs a little farther.

  He smiled to himself, unable to stop his finger from dipping inside her. Just his index finger slipped in between her moist lips, instantly connected with her clitoris. Matt recognized the smoothness of her swollen bud.

  A gasp escaped from her mouth.

  He snuck his finger deeper into her folds, enjoyed the way she willingly opened up for him. He lodged his finger right into the dampness deep inside. Palm pressed against the opening as he pulled it in and out a few times.

  Alana gasped again, moaned near his ear.

  "Do you like this?” he whispered into her hair.

  "Of course, I do."

  He pulled his finger out slowly, far enough to tease her clitoris some more before he twirled her around. Alana's breasts were now pressed against his chest.

  Matt kissed her again, this time roughly, had to make her understand just how much she excited him. He dropped his head lower to press his face against the soft skin of her pale breasts. He took each nipple into his mouth, one after the other, to lick and suck as much of each into his mouth as he could. The sweet taste of her skin was even sweeter here.

  Arousal raced through his system as he wondered how she'd taste between her legs. He sunk lower, onto his knees.

  "Matt, you don't—"

  "Shh.” He pulled on her hand until she sat down on the bed.

  Matt spread her legs and lowered his mouth onto her pussy. The scent of her desire was as thick in the air as his. He felt as if he were going to come right now, but focused again. He had to make this last.

  He opened his mouth and lashed his tongue into her.

  Alana sat upright, with both hands holding her up.

  He started with small circles of his tongue along her clitoris before the excitement and the way she tasted pushed him into a licking frenzy between her legs.

  She moaned and murmured, raised her hips to meet his mouth more intensely, but she remained seated.

  Alana tasted so good, better than he'd imagined all those times he thought he'd never get the chance to do this to her.

  "Oh Matt ... Matt, Matt!” her cries reached fever pitch as she shook beneath his mouth. He tasted the release of her orgasm and pulled back slowly, kissed each inner thigh as he withdrew.

  He didn't waste any time to plunge himself inside her.

  Her legs were still spread open, glistening in the dark as he stuck his throbbing erection into her.

  Oh, she felt so wet, so smooth, so perfect. The walls inside her wrapped tight around his erection, even as he pushed as far inside as he could.

  She shook beneath him. Her eyes were closed but he knew she'd just come again.

  Matt didn't have to go hard to feel the pleasure build. He took his time with each stroke. Each thrust was as slow and deliberate as the one before it, and the stab in his gut announced just how close he was to climax.

  The way her black hair sprawled out behind her on the bed. Her white silky legs spread open around him, resting on his buttocks as it helped intensify every buzz.

  He grabbed a breast in each hand, teased her nipples some more as he plunged in one last time. So deep inside her that he was afraid he'd hurt her. But he didn't have a chance to dwell on the possibility of pain. White dots raced in front of his vision as the orgasm tore so savagely through his body that a scream escaped from his throat.

  Climax stirred through every nerve ending as he spilled inside her. His chest collapsed onto hers, and she kissed his cheek.

  Matt couldn't move. He wanted to stay lodged inside her forever.

  "Oh, Matt,” she cried.

  He pulled back to look at her face. She was crying, so he kissed away every tear. “Don't cry."

  "I can't help it. This was so perfect."

  "I know it was."

  She released a very shaky breath, her eyes still shimmery with unshed tears. “I need to tell you everything I know to make sure you don't die before midnight."

  He pulled out of her and collapsed onto the bed. Not particularly ready to hear the bad news she had to tell him, but still more than willing to hear her out. “How do you know someone's going to kill me?"

  Alana looked away. “Samson Miller's going to hire you to do a job for him tonight. But this won't be an ordinary job."

  "Are you telling me he's the one trying to kill me?"

  She shook her head. “Not him personally, but he's working with the one who'll pull the actual trigger."

  "How do you know all of this?"

  "Your mother told me last year."

  "What?” He stared at the ceiling above.

  "The ghost of your mother has been trying to contact you for years, but you've refused her. So she came to me instead, in a dream. One that I didn't believe, until I saw what she told me unfold right in front of me.” Alana didn't move. Her back was still pressed against the mattress.

  "Please, I don't want to talk about my mother right now."

  She sighed. “Just tell me you'll refuse to go anywhere near Samson Miller's house tonight."

  "Okay, I promise."

  Alana made her way toward him on the bed and pressed her body against his chest. He looked into her face. “You promise me?"

  "Yes, I promise."

  She looked back, over her shoulder.

  "What's wrong?"

  "He's coming back, I have to go.” Alana stood up.

  "Wait a second. You have to tell me who's behind all of this!” Matt sat up.

  Alana grabbed every piece of clothing he'd stripped off her and offered him one of her rueful smiles.

  She vanished into the darkness around them.

  "Tell me who it is."

  "It's just me, bro."

  Matt grabbed the covers and threw them over his nakedness as his friend walked in through the door of the motel room they shared.

  "What the hell were you doing?” Cain asked as he closed the door behind him. He made his way farther inside and scrutinized his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Oh man, what the hell? I told you to get it on with one of those chicks. They certainly wouldn't have disappointed you. You didn't have to entertain yourself!"

  "This isn't what it looks like."

  "Right. I'm sure you weren't doing what it looks like from here. Dude, you stained the sheets. Ugh, I think I'm gonna pretend I didn't see any of this.” Cain collapsed onto his bed.

  Matt sighed.

  "Oh, and before I forget, I got a call from Miller. He wants us over at his place at ten tonight, says he's got something huge for us. Something neither one of us expected,” Cain said.

  All he could think about were Alana's words. She'd said not to go to Miller's house, made him promise.

  "Did you hear me, Matt?"

  "Ah, yeah, sure."

  "Get some sleep, man. Halloween's gonna be a total bitch this year."

  * * * *

  "Damn,” Alana whispered to herself. She adjusted the sleeves and pressed the rest of her dress downward until it sat in place just below her knees. Alana pushed her long hair over one shoulder and reached back for the zipper.

  "I can do this for you,” the familiar whisper called behind her. Long skeletal fingers were at her back to lift the zipper upward in a slow rise. The tips stopped at the base of her neck for a few seconds too long.

  "Thanks."

  "You're doing well, Alana. It looks like you'll get your second chance after all, if lover boy listens to you."

  The rush of warm air along the back of her head was putrid. But she could put up with it for a litt
le longer.

  "He'll listen. He promised."

  A chuckle ignited.

  Goosebumps raced up and down her arms.

  "Men promise things so easily when they're offered the kind of pleasure you just provided.” It cackled again as the fingers left the nape of her neck.

  "It's not like that with Matt.” It never was, she added to herself.

  "There's no need to get all defensive. You're taking care of this the best way you know how—by using your lovely assets. I commend you on the tactic.” Those long fingers were suddenly on her hips.

  "Matt's different."

  "I don't care whether he is or not. All I need to know is that he doesn't end up dead tonight. Because you know the rules, if he's shot or stabbed once, it's over.” A small pause made the air around them thicken. “Both your soul and his become mine for all eternity, and your second chance at life slips away from your grasp."

  "I'm going to stick close to him all day."

  "Yes, that's wise. But just remember that you still haven't told him who his killer is. And as long as he's around, it's going to be near impossible for you to warn him either way,” the voice said sternly.

  Laying out the ground rules at every turn was what this creature did best. A creature of myth, something Alana didn't even have a proper name for, but that didn't matter. She'd heard the story of the soul collector. Or, Soul Dealer as her grandmother used to call it. Alana heard the story many times, an old Hispanic legend of the creature that waits beside the spirits of those killed too suddenly or tragically. It was always there, waiting and ready to make a deal that it would usually win.

  But not this time, she'd gambled both her soul and Matt's because she was sure their connection would overcome this obstacle. And now that they'd really connected, even through the barrier of life and death, Alana felt differently.

  Life was already growing inside her womb.

  An impossible thing, but it happened between them because their love was so obviously strong. Even in life she'd never felt so right when a man touched her. Almost as if their very souls had connected as well as their physical bodies.

  A rush of warmth tingled along her skin now that it had taken a step away from her.

  "You have until midnight, Alana.” The Soul Dealer disappeared into the shadows around her. “I won't bother you all day. But when the clock strikes midnight, to mark the end of All Hallow's Eve, I shall be there to collect the prizes."

  A heavy breath fell between her lips. Now that there were three souls on the line, Alana would do whatever it took to save them all.

  No matter what.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Five

  "What's taking you so long?"

  Cain popped his head out of the bathroom. He was applying a handful of gel into his short dark hair to slick it back.

  Matt looked at him wearing all black—jeans, T-shirt, boots, leather jacket waiting on the musty armchair in the corner. And, with the gel in his hair, it looked more black than brown.

  "What are you dressing up as?"

  "Dressing up?"

  "Sure, you look like a wise guy, or maybe a hit man."

  Cain stepped out into the main area of the motel room with a smirk on his face. “I wasn't trying for anything, but I think I'll go with A."

  It was strange, but since Matt had shared intimacy with Alana and listened to her half-answered warnings, he'd been scrutinizing everything his friend said or did. It wasn't that he suspected him of foul play—though at the moment he was open to any suspicion—but he wondered if they were headed into a trap with Samson Miller.

  "C'mon, man, we gotta get going. It's almost ten."

  "I don't think I'll go."

  "Uh-uh mate. You did this to me last year and, under the circumstances, I let it slip, but tonight I need you. Whatever Miller's got lined up for us, it sounds pretty serious. You know how crazy things can get during Halloween. It's the only time of the year when the division between the realms gets all fuzzy. For all we know, he might want us to track down some pesky faerie. We both know some of the trouble they can stir with their warrior tactics. But they sure are hot, aren't they?” Cain's eyes looked distant, as if he were already lost in some freaking fantasy.

  Though he was right about one thing—Halloween night was when all types of creatures could cross over to the land of the living ... and that included ghosts.

  Matt took a deep breath.

  He hated to think of it, but what if Alana were right? If whoever tried to kill him the year before attempted to have another go within hours, maybe it was time to open himself up. To really allow the gift he'd inherited from his mother to flow freely. Open his awareness so that he could connect with Alana without holding back.

  But that thought scared him. Would there be a price to pay? His mother kept her awareness open 24-7 and had become a slave to it. Always went out of her way to pass on a message, or finish off a duty that the ghost hadn't had a chance to complete.

  He certainly didn't want that attachment to spirits.

  "Honey, you know I'm not much of a writer, but when I sat down at her desk, I felt as if I were one. The words flowed out of me. Our connection allowed her the peace she needed in order to finish telling that tale." His mother's blue eyes were shiny with tears when she'd told him that story.

  He'd been a thirteen-year-old kid who'd started to feel the cold brush of spirits along his spine. Hearing her admission never helped him look at her favorably.

  The bizarre thing was that now he had a hell of a lot more in common with his mother. He'd done the same thing Martina Jensen did to conceive him.

  Matt made love to the ghost of a woman who died a year ago. Yet, the resentment and disgust he felt toward his mother when she'd told him wasn't there.

  Cain clapped his hands together. “Anyway, enough fantasizing about those hot faeries for now. We need to get moving."

  "And you have no idea what he wants us to take care of?"

  Cain wrapped the leather jacket around his shoulders and slipped into it. “I have no idea, but I know he's gonna pay big. So, bro, if we do this for him tonight, maybe we can have a short vacation or something. Sure wouldn't mind popping up to Queensland for a bit of sun and hot bikini babes. I'm getting sick of this cool weather here. Doesn't feel like Spring, y'know?"

  Matt nodded absently. What should he do? Worm his way out of facing tonight and hide from whoever wanted him dead? Or should he just face it once and for all?

  Alana died because of him, and that was enough guilt to live with day in and day out. The least he could do was face this like a man. He owed her that much.

  "C'mon, man."

  "Okay, okay.” He stood up off the squeaky bed.

  "Excellent, let's get moving."

  Matt grabbed his denim jacket and headed toward the front door behind his friend. He released a heavy breath and opened himself up to the ghosts that hung around the living. As he looked over his shoulder to close the door, he noticed Alana.

  She sat at the end of the bed with a sad look on her face.

  "You promised me,” she whispered.

  "I know.” Matt closed the door behind him and stepped out into the cool night air around them. It was a dark night, and the streets were still wet from the afternoon rain. The sky was full of clouds, but the rain had stopped for the time being.

  He took a deep, long breath and, when he released it, noticed the first spirit heading toward him. Matt lowered his face and jumped into the passenger side of their car.

  The tap on his window was soft, but he heard it as well as he could see the shadow of a male peering inside.

  "Here we go,” Cain said as the car roared off down the road.

  * * * *

  "You promised,” Alana repeated. She looked into the rearview mirror but it was positioned to catch Cain's eyes, not Matt's. That jerk wouldn't be able to see her, and for that she was grateful. The last thing she needed was for Cain to realize what his
friend was suffering through was more than just the grief-stricken delusions he suspected.

  She wiped away her tears.

  Alana sat in the backseat of their old car. It wasn't a smooth ride. This old ‘70s car caught every single bump in the road and sent her ghostly frame from one side to the other without detection.

  She kept really quiet, controlled her energy patterns because she knew Matt had at least taken one piece of advice. He'd opened himself up to the spirits that could connect with him.

  Yet, now it bothered her.

  They were headed toward Samson Miller's house.

  One thing she doubted Matt knew about this man was that he was a practicing sorcerer of the dark arts. It was why he could hire them for so many different jobs and pay them top dollar. Most of the demons he hired them to remove were unwillingly, or sometimes even willingly, conjured up by Miller himself. A side effect to whatever dark power he was trying to harness at the time.

  With Matt walking in there all tingly to his gift, Samson Miller would have the proof he'd always suspected. This scared Alana so much she regretted not telling him everything she knew. Not only what she'd found out while being a ghost, but what Martina Jensen had confided in her.

  Though Matt kept his ability quiet and blocked, other people knew about him. And, since Miller had had personal contact with Martina while she was alive, he knew, not only what Matt was, but that he'd been spawned by ghostly conception. An almost impossible situation—one that made Matt more attractive to those involved with dark magic.

  Alana stared at the back of his head. The memory of their intimate connection flashed inside her mind. She hoped that it was enough to help him come out alive the next day.

  She pressed her right hand over her lower abdomen and felt the warm glow of life ignite beneath her palm. A tiny shimmer of blue filled the backseat around her.

  Matt looked over his shoulder and met her eyes. He offered her a small smile and a wink. He thought he knew what was going on, but he had no idea. That made her sad.

  It was now up to her. She had to keep him safe.

  Alana wasn't going to mess this up.