Alana Blues

by Yolanda Sfetsos

  Time was running out.

  Alana had to somehow get across to him, force him to see her if he wasn't able to open up his awareness.

  The deal she'd made would end at midnight on All Hallows Eve. There was no more time to waste.

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  Chapter Two

  "Matt."

  He moved his face farther into the pillow.

  "Matt.” The hand against his back was insistent.

  "Go away, Cain,” he whispered as he held onto slumber. Matt would rather catch up on sleep, which was hard enough to come by nowadays, than to have to listen to another recount of Cain's latest conquest.

  "Matt, it's me."

  Why was the voice female?

  He opened his eyes. Turned onto his back and looked up to meet the beauty he'd missed all year. “Alana, is that really you?"

  Alana nodded once, her black shiny hair spilled forward on either side of her face like a curtain of silk. Her skin was as white as he remembered it, a few freckles on the bridge of her nose. The aura around her body made her bright, every feature enhanced. She wore the same purple dress she'd worn the night a bullet struck her.

  "But how can that be?"

  "Matt, you have to allow your gift to open up to me. I need to speak to you about something very important,” she said. Alana sat down at the end of the bed, and it dented beneath her.

  Ghosts didn't have weight like this, did they? But what else could she be? She died on October 31, the year before. He'd seen it with his own eyes. Caught her small frame before it hit the ground, held her tight until she took her final breath and her blood had soaked his shirt. He'd refused to let go of her when Cain persisted and even when the ambulance arrived.

  They'd all had to pry him off her.

  "My gift?” he echoed.

  "Don't you remember what you told me about your mother? She was a medium, Matt. And so are you, but I can't make contact with you—"

  "Then how are you here now?"

  "You're dreaming of me. I found a way to slip into your consciousness. But we can talk while you're awake, if you'll let me.” Her voice was soft. The moonlight that poured in through the curtained window made her already radiant skin shine further.

  "I don't know how to."

  "Yes, you do. Just open your heart to me,” Alana whispered. She stood up and headed toward the motel front door on the other side of the room.

  "No, wait!” Matt jumped off the bed and made his way toward her. He caught her elbow, and it felt solid beneath his palm. He looked at his hand wrapped around her skin, then back up to her face. He was shocked at how real this felt.

  She looked over her shoulder with a smile. A rueful smile that made his heart ache all over again.

  "Haven't you felt me near you during the last few weeks?"

  He shook his head.

  Alana turned around and touched his cheek. “I've been trying to make contact since August."

  "August, that's when we met...."

  She nodded.

  "But how ... and why?"

  "I don't have time to talk right now, he's coming back. But Matt, if you let me, I'll come back to you."

  "Of course.” He took a step forward. Their bodies were flush against each other, and he could feel her warmth against his front. Matt's body reacted to her closeness. The erection ignited so fast it hurt, but he didn't care. The intoxication of her fruit-scented shampoo and body lotion still clung to her. He closed his eyes to everything that kept her memory alive.

  He lowered his face to hers and felt her breath against his face. He opened his mouth over hers to enjoy the kiss that she returned. Matt swept his tongue between her lips.

  Alana pulled away. “Matt, we don't have long. Please let me contact you again before All Hallows Eve is done, okay?"

  He nodded and opened his eyes.

  The click of the front door snapped him back to life.

  The sun was in full force and filtered into the cramped room. The air around him smelled of sweat as Matt lifted a hand to shield his eyes. He caught sight of the silhouette in front of him.

  "Whoa, man, put that away, will ya?"

  His eyes watered from the sun's intensity. “What're you talking about?"

  Cain laughed. “I don't know which I should point out first. The fact that you're sleep walking or that I don't particularly appreciate that hard-on being pointed at me!"

  Embarrassment filled his body as the lethargy of coming down from his dream about Alana left him feeling cold and disoriented. Matt stumbled back and fell onto the lumpy bed with harsh sheets. He pulled the top one over his lap to hide the obvious arousal Alana had stirred up beneath his pajama pants.

  "Here, have some breakfast!” Cain dumped a brown paper bag with a huge grease mark beside him.

  Matt grabbed the bag, his mind still lost in the dream he'd had of Alana. She wanted him to open up his awareness so she could communicate with him. What was so important she had to talk to him before the end of Halloween night?

  "What the hell's up with you, huh? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

  "I think I just did."

  "Was that before or after the sleep walking?” Cain collapsed onto the other bed, stretched his long legs out. He placed his arms behind his head and surveyed Matt. “Well, answer the question."

  "I just saw her in my dream."

  "Her? Who?"

  "Alana,” Matt said, turning his face to look at his friend properly. The skepticism was there right away. Cain didn't believe him or, more importantly, didn't want to believe him. They'd seen a lot of dark and evil stuff together but, through it all, Cain continually insisted that ghosts could not be real. He could believe in demonic entities roving through our world in search of human hosts, but he couldn't wrap his mind around human ghosts. He just didn't believe that the human soul could hold on to its original energy. Matt had heard the sermon too many times to forget how his friend felt about this.

  "Oh man, not again. You were raving about dreams with her in them shortly after she died.” Cain clicked his tongue. “I'm telling you, you've got to get laid. Man, that Sandy chick sure made me forget about all my troubles for a while. The things that chick can do in bed ... Well, I can go into detail if you'd like me to."

  "No, I don't want details about your sexual crusades. I've heard enough to last me a lifetime. And stop dismissing me, will you? I just told you I had a dream about Alana, and all you can do is think with your dick."

  "Well, maybe if you thought with yours a little more, you wouldn't still be dreaming about a dead chick. What the hell was so special about her that you're still stuck on her anyway?"

  "You don't get it, do you?"

  "Yeah, I never got why she was interested in you when I made a pass at her first!"

  "You can be such a jerk, you know that?” Matt pushed the brown bag aside. “She's dead, Cain! And I don't appreciate you dismissing her, or me, so easily."

  "Look, I'm sorry, man. But I just can't understand how one chick"—Cain held up a hand to keep him quiet—"can affect you so much. You hardly knew her."

  Yeah, he'd hardly known her. Yet, they'd spent the best part of a month together. Matt became so concerned about her he would sneak around behind his friend's back and go visit her in the middle of the night. There was always something exciting to talk about with Alana, or something cool to watch. The girl had a huge DVD collection that she loved to share with him. And even though it should've been so easy to reach out for her so many times, he'd only kissed her once. The signals were there from her. They seemed to appreciate each other on the same level, but Matt had wanted to take his time for once.

  He'd tried the love ‘em and leave ‘em approach Cain encouraged continually, but it wasn't for him. Cain had even gone as far as calling him a pussy several times. But just because he wanted to pursue a possible relationship with the only woman he'd ever connected with, didn't mean he had no backbone.

  Cain would never underst
and. He just wanted sex. Sex could get you only so far before it became just another thing to add to the routine. Matt was almost thirty now, and he was definitely ready to take things seriously. Except, the woman he wanted was dead. And he was still alive, constantly haunted by her memory.

  He looked up, eyes focused on the dodgy curtains that were doing next to nothing to keep the sun out. She'd actually been in this room. Dream or not, they'd kissed. His lips still felt the buzz of hers. Surely, it had been real. But she had returned and claimed she needed to tell him something serious. Why was she teasing him at the moment? Was this just her way of settling the score between them? Did she hold him personally responsible for what had happened to her?

  A restless spirit could just be after revenge or a way to allow her soul to rest. Maybe it was time to look into the ghost and spirit world a little closer. He'd been hiding from that facet for most of his life, afraid that what his mother possessed had been passed down to him.

  "Matt, hello, are you still with me?"

  He shook his head and turned to look at his partner. Cain, the dark-haired complete opposite to him. The only thing they had in common was the supernatural crap they'd both been threatened with while they shared an alley. Two runaways with a bizarre thing in common, who'd worked together ever since. They were usually inseparable, unless Cain decided to take off to satisfy his sexual appetite.

  "Yeah, still with you. Look, I don't want to talk about it anymore, all right? I just had a dream, that's all."

  "Another to add to the collection!"

  "Whatever."

  "Listen, did you get the cash from that Miller dude?"

  "Yeah, picked it up last night. I don't even want to know how one man has that much cash just lying around the house. His servant, or whatever that man was, asked us to stick close for a while. Reckons he's got a few gigs coming up around Halloween night,” Matt answered. It was good to steer the conversation away from Alana and onto business. The only thing that could deter Cain—temporarily—from his skirt chasing was business. He lived for the rush of vanquishing demonic entities back to wherever in hell they came from.

  "Ah, Halloween, things always get busy during Halloween night."

  He shut his mouth, bit his tongue. Didn't even want to remember that the year before he'd let Cain go out on his own to deal with problems. He'd stayed inside a dingy motel room drinking himself into a stupor. Even then, so soon after her death, he thought he'd felt Alana nearby just before midnight. But he'd been convinced it was just an alcohol-induced illusion. Now, he wasn't so sure.

  "Yeah, looks like it's going to be another busy one,” he said with a nod. “Hey listen, I've been meaning to ask you something since last night. How'd you know about those companion demons?"

  Cain shrugged. “I just did, that's all."

  "I'm positive you've never mentioned them before."

  "Look, I don't wanna be a prick or anything, but that chick kept me up most of the night. If you don't mind, I'd like to catch some shuteye.” Cain sat up, started to pull his boots off. He dumped one after the other on the floor between their beds, followed by his socks. He didn't even bother to stand, just pulled his jeans and top off while still on the bed.

  "Sure, yeah, I understand,” Matt said with a sigh.

  "Cool.” And with that, Cain turned onto his side, away from Matt.

  He hated to doubt—or even suspect—Cain of anything, but something seemed odd about his reaction to a simple question. There were definitely a few things out of whack with this situation.

  * * * *

  Although Alana stood near the side wall that faced Cain's bed, she was no longer in the same space and time. Darkness engulfed her as she watched them as if they were on a movie screen. That was how it felt when she was around ungifted humans, or ones who didn't use their gift ... like Matt.

  Her arms were crossed over her stomach as she surveyed the room from this bizarre vantage point. Two men who'd worked together and shared a friendship for many years were each stretched out on beds beside each other. So close, yet they were both very far away from each other.

  There were too many secrets between them. Too many plans that one out of the two had no idea about. And for that, Alana's heart ached. She had to tell Matt, sooner than later. Time was running out.

  She looked down at Cain. The cocky, so-sure-of-himself alpha male who expected nothing more than appreciation and adoration from the women he crossed paths with. Maybe that was why he'd never taken to her, because she didn't fall under the spell of his charm and dark looks. Alana wasn't an idiot now, and she hadn't been one back when she'd tracked them down to help her out.

  They did a great job of cleaning her house, Matt more than his partner. Even though he didn't realize it, Matt was the real power of the two. If not for the ability and gifts he was born with, neither would be able to clean up the amount of messes they continually encountered.

  Cain was lying on his side, turned away from Matt. He seemed to be trying very hard to convince Matt that he was asleep, though he wasn't. His eyes were wide open, troubled. Almost like a guilty kid who had been caught.

  But he hadn't been busted for his real intentions yet. That's what Alana was here to do, right the wrong.

  "Time is of the essence, Alana,” the silky voice behind her called.

  She kept her gaze pinned ahead of her. The equally silky hand was on her right shoulder, soft and seemingly caring, but that was all for show. It wanted her to fail as much as she wanted to succeed. Making deals with beings who had access to ghosts and were enriched with a higher power wasn't recommended for those who had passed away. But her situation was different.

  It hadn't been her time to go. Fate hadn't called her yet. And for that reason, she'd been treated like an anomaly during the past twelve months.

  Alana was neither here nor there—never really with the living, and even less with the dead. She was allowed to wander until a decision was made. She'd been offered a second chance, but time and consequence weren't on her side.

  She couldn't contact Matt whenever Cain was around him. It was why this would be so hard; they were mostly inseparable.

  But she would find a way.

  "You better find a way, Alana Alvarez. Or your soul will be mine forever.” The voice and the hand retreated, leaving her cold and empty on the inside.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Three

  "How ‘bout another beer?” Cain asked as he lifted a hand to call on the bartender.

  "Nah, not for me, thanks.” Matt shook his head. Strands of his hair fell over his eyes. He stared at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and his heart froze for a second.

  Alana stood behind him. That familiar small smile spread her glossy pink lips as her dark eyes pierced into his. The purple dress she'd worn the day she died clung to her upper body and even followed down her curvaceous hips. He could only see the top half now, but his mind would never forget the vision she'd been as he walked her to the safety of her car.

  Safety ... the word echoed inside his mind. That was a joke. There'd been no safety that day! After all this time, he still couldn't believe that he and Cain were able to wipe out more than a half dozen demons from her home, but hadn't been able to stop a bullet from hitting her in the chest.

  He swirled around quickly as sound returned to his ears. Matt wasn't surprised to find she wasn't there, but his heart was still beating at a thousand miles an hour. He turned back toward the mirror. She was gone from there, too.

  The odds of her hounding him to hurt or inflict guilt seemed less likely with every encounter. He had been seeing her on and off all year, but not as intensely as now. Mostly, he'd dismissed the feelings of her nearness as illusions, but now it was obvious that it had been Alana. She wanted to tell him something, and it had to be important. Spirits and ghosts didn't appear to a particular person just so they could “hang out". He couldn't feel any of his energy being sucked out by her. So then, what was so im
portant? He really wanted to know and wondered why she was taking her time.

  "That chick over there keeps looking at you,” Cain said meeting his eye in the mirror.

  "I'm not interested.” Matt couldn't trouble himself with some girl who wouldn't mean a thing to him. Not even to shut his friend up. What he should be doing right now was surfing the locked Web sites he'd found while Cain slept. It took him hours to worm his way into legitimate places with real answers, but by then Cain had already woken up and started to hassle him about hitting the pubs to “cruise for chicks".

  "Oh man, come on! When you agreed to come along, I thought you were serious about getting laid tonight."

  "We should be working."

  "My mobile's been on all day and so has yours, right?"

  Matt nodded absently.

  "Did either one ring at all?"

  "No."

  "Then that means there's nothing for us to deal with at the moment. Let Miller get back to us, and then we'll deal.” Cain swiveled around to face the other patrons inside the rowdy bar.

  Hard metal music blared from the speakers. Old tunes Matt remembered from his teens.

  "Have you ever thought about helping people just because they need us?"

  "What'd you mean?” He nodded at the bartender as he placed a new beer bottle in front of him. Cain took a swig from it.

  Matt waited for the bartender to leave before he said, “I mean, helping people without the money."

  "Are you kidding me? No way! How would we afford the cross-country drives and the stays in motels? No, I've never thought about it."

  "You do realize there are people out there being possessed and haunted by entities who simply don't have the money to get anyone to help them?” Matt felt the anger swell inside him. This thought had been with him for several years now. Since the time they were approached by a single mother to help her possessed child.

  They'd turned up on the night with all the equipment but left when she told them she didn't have the money. The woman even offered to pay in installments, but Cain refused. He didn't know it, but Matt had returned—while Cain was out with some girl—and released the child from the demons’ clutches. He didn't accept a single cent in return, and so far it was one of the most fulfilling jobs he'd ever taken care of. That and Alana's, though she'd paid for their services.