Protecting Emma

by ML Michaels

  She stopped him, grabbing his hand. “You don’t have to do that. There’s a whole ‘nother room. I’d feel horrible if you were sleeping on the floor. We can just sleep together, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

  Ethan moved his hand to his head, scratching nervously. “Right, but last time you had on pants.” Ella looked down, blushing. She hopped in the bed and under the covers quickly, patting the pillow beside her.

  “See? Now you don’t know what I have on under here. I could be naked…”

  “That’s not helping the situation.”

  “Or I could be in a parka and rain boots. It doesn’t matter, cause you’ll be on your side and I’ll be on mine. Now, can we just go to sleep?”

  Ethan sat in bed, crawling under the covers slowly, and praying that she was actually wearing a parka and rain boots under there. They both lay in bed in silence, neither one of them sleepy in the slightest bit anymore. Ethan looked over at her, where she lay beside him, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling.

  “Ella?”

  “Yeah, I’m up.”

  He turned to face her, his head resting on his elbow. “Remember earlier when you said that you were glad that everything happened to you, because you met me?” Even in the dark he could tell that the question had made her blush.

  “Yes.”

  He scooted closer to her, his leg bumping against her bare leg as he took her hand in his. “Well, I feel the same way. I’m really glad that I met you and I don’t know what I would do without you.” He’d meant to leave it at that, but he didn’t expect her to be looking at him, her beautiful eyes full of caring and passion. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips were on hers.

  Ella was kissing him back, her hands wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. As their tongues intertwined, making up for months of tension between the thin sheets of a motel, Ethan’s hands travelled up her smooth legs. When his fingertips reached the inside of her thigh, her hand urged his forward, and she let out a passion-filled moan as his hand worked its way into her panties.

  She bit his lip and cried out in pleasure as he explored her, feeling how badly she wanted him. How hot she was for him. Breaking their kiss just long enough to take off his shirt, their lips crashed back into one another like meeting waves. She took the time to kiss his exposed chest, her lips tracing each of his scars and blemish, making sure he knew that he was perfect in her eyes.

  She reached the waistband of his briefs and was pleasantly surprised by his arousal for her. Ethan pulled her up, staring deeply into her eyes. She nodded slightly, and whispered in his ear, urging him on.

  Ethan needed no more encouragement. He wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her as they joined, moaning in time with one another. The creak of the hotel bed was the rhythm that they danced to, each of them exploring parts of themselves that they’d long since forgotten.

  As Ethan felt his passion building, and could see the expressions of pleasure and desire playing out upon Ella’s face, he realized he wanted so much more than to just keep her safe. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to be the man who always kept the beautiful smile on her face and who she could go to when she was having a bad day.

  He quickened his pace and grabbed her hands, pinning them to the headboard above her head, as he gave her all of his passion. Both of their moans grew louder and louder, until they finished in an emotional crescendo, collapsing in each other’s arms.

  As Ethan lay spent, sweating and tired, he looked over to the beautiful girl beside him and whispered, “I love you.” Ella smiled, feeling her heart swell with his admission, and kissed him. She laid her head on his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat resound in her ear, and fell asleep.

  Ethan woke up first, the pale shafts of sunlight peeking from the dusty motel curtains pulling him from his slumber. He looked over at the beautiful woman asleep next to him and for the first time in a long time, he realized he’d woken up happy and sober.

  Ella woke up about an hour after him. Ethan had just gotten out the shower when she arose in a fit of screams and gasps, causing Ethan to stop lacing his shoes and pull her into his arms.

  “Calm down. Ella, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied.

  “You’re not fine. Look at me,” he grabbed her by her chin softly, staring into her eyes. “You just had a premonition—what did you see? Is it something about E?”

  Just looking at him was bringing back gruesome images of her premonition—a grotesque, disintegrating skeleton of a man, strobe lights, music, and a crowd full of people, and rampant spirits escaping from The After.

  “No.” She kissed him, taking his mind off of her dream and savoring the taste of his lips on hers, knowing that she may not get another chance after today. “It was nothing, just a bad nightmare.”

  ***

  The line of concertgoers waiting to purchase tickets was around the block and it was only 1 o’clock—Maritza Eon didn’t even come out until 3. By 2, the box office had run out of tickets and had to send more than a thousand people away.

  Little did they know that at the end of the day they’d count themselves among the lucky ones.

  By two-thirty, Maritza’s limo pulled up to the back of the McHenry Amphitheater. She entered the building, her bodyguard lugging a large load that was sloshing around in a stained duffel bag, and went straight to the stage effects crew.

  As Maritza talked to Randy, the stage manager, about incorporating vats of some strange black liquid in her show, a purple 94 Honda raced into the parking lot, and Ethan and Ella got out in a hurry.

  The two of them were able to push through the disappointed crowd of people who had been sent away, only to be held up by the bouncer. When the government badge he produced didn’t relax the bouncer’s worries, his hand slipped into the jacket, grazing the weapon he had hidden in frustration.

  “Listen,” Ella stepped closer, her eyes trained on him. “We’re here to stop a lot of innocent people from getting hurt, but don’t misunderstand me—we are not the good guys. We’re just the lesser of two evils.”

  Ella patted the bouncer on his robust chest, and then stepped back. “So either let us through, or my partner here can carve a hole in you that we’ll just walk through.”

  The bouncer took no time to think about the threat. He just stepped to the side and let them pass. When they were inside the amphitheater, Ethan grabbed her hand and spun her around, kissing her passionately on the lips.

  “I’ll carve a hole in him and walk through it? It was sexy—but where did that even come from?”

  Ella laughed. “I have moves. Now, come on, we have a murderous pop star to stop.”

  Ethan didn’t laugh, knowing that even if E were in the form of a teen starlet, he’d be a powerful opponent.

  “Maybe we should split up?” Ella offered, as she checked her watch and realized there was only an hour until Maritza was supposed to go on.

  Ethan felt his heart drop and although he knew that time was of the essence, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

  “You check backstage by the meet-and-greet area,” she said, not waiting for his reply. “I’ll try to weasel my way into her dressing room. We have to find her before 4:30!”

  Ella began to run towards the dressing rooms before he could say anything. Ethan shook his head, trying to get a grip on the situation and not let his emotions stop him from doing his job.

  He made it backstage, after quietly dispatching a bouncer or two, and searched through the small area. At first glance, he saw nothing but a group of girls with matching VIP passes waiting by a table of snacks.

  Shit, he cursed. He was wasting time. He glanced at his watch, seeing how long he had until Maritza was supposed to go on. He was surprised to find the hands of his watch were swimming, along its face. There was magic near—and it was powerful.

  He realized, as he moved closer to the stage, that there was a hidden door in the floor rig
ht behind the platform of the stage. He opened it, and climbed down the small ladder, coming face-to-face with Maritza Eon in the flesh.

  She was surrounded by viscous black liquid and clad in a black latex suit that made her look like a dominatrix. She smirked, her innocent face contorted in an expression of smug pride.

  “Ethan Jacobs? What a lovely surprise.”

  Ethan pulled the 9mm from his pocket and aimed it at Maritza’s head. Although E was in the form of a beautiful celebrity, Ethan could clearly see the hideous monster beneath and would have no trouble blowing its head off.

  “It’s been what? Thirty years since we last spoke? Is that anyway to greet an old friend?”

  “You mean since I last captured you? What the hell are you doing back, E?”

  “To be honest, whatever I please. I killed a pop star and got a makeover,” he gestured to Martiza’s body as if it was a new outfit, “ I took a college kid’s virginity, and I’m about to unleash hell on a crowd of teens.”

  “No.” Ethan cocked the gun, growing irritated. “I mean how did you get back?”

  Maritza laughed, a high giggle that would have been adorable if not for the fact that it was from E. “That was pure luck, if you’ll believe it. Some idiotic human stumbled upon a book of black magic and opened a portal to hell—I fought my way out, then made the idiot human my servant.”

  “A human?” Ethan repeated. The realization that E was working with a partner and Ella could be in troubled dawned on him and he dropped his gaze for just a second. E wasted no time, pouncing on him, knocking the gun away, and wrapping Maritza’s surprisingly strong arms around his throat.

  The ring of black liquid that Maritza had just been standing in the middle of began to bubble and steam. E got up, hitting Ethan with a powerful kick with her heels, leaving a gash on his head, then sauntered her way back to the middle of the ring.

  “It’s beginning.” Maritza was laughing. The ring of liquid was glowing now, and right before Ethan’s eyes, he saw a bright wispy ball of light emerge from the viscous liquid and float through the ceiling. “Charon, you genius! It’s working! I can feel myself growing stronger!”

  Half a building away, in the confines of a small trailer, Charon was busy chanting and reading from an ancient book of magic. Though he couldn’t see the chaotic effect his spell was having on the waiting crowd, he could tell by the energy resounding from the book that it was working.

  With each repetition of the incantation, the veil between the world of the living and the world of the lost grew less stable, and more souls were able to pass back into their world, taking the place of a living soul.

  As Ella ran to the dressing room, she could see everything unfolding before her eyes. The temperature of the building dropped down to the bone-chilling temperature that she’d only felt in The After.

  When a brilliant soul glided right past her and into the body of a teen, expelling her soul and sending it tumbling into The After prematurely, she quickened her pace, hoping it wasn’t too late to reset the natural order of things.

  Ella burst through the dressing room door and was surprised to find someone that she recognized, although it wasn’t Maritza Eon.

  “It’s you,” she said, almost unbelieving. Charon looked at her, not stopping his incantation, but his face making it clear he didn’t know her.

  “Mary Ann Withers.” Ella said. Charon’s mouth closed at once. “Your wife says she forgives you.”

  “How do you—?”

  “I met her,” Ella said, taking a step closer to him. “In death. She showed me what you did to her—how horrible it was. I felt the darkness emanating from you that night. I felt her fear. I felt--”

  “Shut up!” He screamed, going back to chanting and attempting to block her out. Ella took another step closer to him. She almost had a shot.

  “I helped her find peace. She forgave you. I can help you find peace too.”

  “I said--”

  Ella pounced as soon as she had a moment, wrenching the book from him and pulling out a small revolver when she fell on top of him.

  Her eyes closed, she fired two shots. The holy water-drenched bullets were lodged in his chest and he lay under her immobile. Dead again.

  Ethan watched, his head leaking, still recovering from E’s assault, as soul after soul came through the portal. Then, just like that, they stopped. He knew it could only mean one thing. Ella had succeeded.

  E cursed the fact that he had ever trusted a simple human and walked slowly over to Ethan. “Well, Ethan, since you’ve ruined my plan now, the least you can do is lend me your body. I’m a bit tired of this one.” Maritza’s eyes began to glow a sickly yellow and for a second, Ethan screamed as E’s true face came into view.

  “Not so fast,” Ella yelled, dropping down into the room, completely disregarding the ladder. As she landed, destructive tome in hand, she kicked Maritza, knocking her back into the ring of black liquid.

  “Lighter,” she commanded, quickly flicking it open after Ethan retrieved one from his jacket. She set fire to the book, watching noxious black smoke pour from its pages. As it burned and was reduced to nothingness, so was E, exiled to return back to whatever Hell he’d escaped.

  When it was finally over, and the book was nothing but a pile of smoldering ashes, and E was nothing but another crisis averted. Ella lay next to Ethan, tending to the gash on his head. He took her hand, his thumb lightly caressing her.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked with a smile.

  She leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his lips. “I told you I had moves.”

  Ethan smiled tenderly. “You do. You saved many humans today. Including me.”

  “We make good partners, don’t we?” she asked.

  “Partners for life?” He said tentatively.

  She didn't have to use her psychic powers to see their future. “Absolutely,” she said, kissing him passionately.

  The End

  *****

  Killer Kisses

  The barista added another pump of non-dairy creamer to the tea, slapped the top on it, and scribbled the customer’s name on the side. Reginald.

  He’d been regularly stopping by the cafe for the last two weeks and the barista had quickly added his name to the growing list of coffee regulars. It wasn’t as if their coffee were that good—it was actually disgusting to Reginald, who always opted for tea.

  In truth, Reginald, and most of the other new regulars, weren’t coming for the coffee or the service—just her. Right on cue, as he sipped a slow gulp of his scalding chamomile, she walked through the doors, still pulling her apron around her waist. The first thing about her that had stuck with him, besides her obvious beauty, had been her penchant for always being in a rush, never quite fully there, as if she was perpetually stuck between one moment and the next.

  She maneuvered behind the counter easily and began taking the orders of the long line of customers, mostly male, who refused to be served by any other barista but her.

  “You’re late again, Whitney.”

  Whitney, who’d just received her first hefty tip of the day, turned to her boss behind her and flashed him her dazzling smile. “I’m so sorry Dagan, I promise I’ll be on time tomorrow and everyday after that.” She knew that it was a lie before the words had even left her mouth. After today, she’d have exactly what she came for, and wouldn’t be stepping foot in the place ever again.

  Dagan scolded her about her hair being down before he walked away, grumbling and muttering to himself. Whitney pulled a scrunchie from her pocket and slowly gathered her thick, brown hair into a wavy ponytail, her green eyes locked on Reginald’s eyes from across the room.

  When she was done, she moved back to her waiting patrons as if nothing had happened, leaving Reginald confused and wondering if anyone else felt the intense energy surge into the room. His palms were sweating; his heart seemed to be working twice as fast as usual, and much to his dismay, he found that there was quite a sizable tent in
the crotch of his jeans.

  Reginald’s face burned red with embarrassment, though the people around him kept going about their business, completely oblivious to him and his pubescent problem.

  For most men, an unexpected erection was just another part of their regular daily routine. Reginald wasn’t most men though. He published women’s self-help books and considered himself a feminist. He didn’t just spring erections in public places from nothing more than a glance. He could control his baser emotions, usually, at least.

  Reginald reached for his cup of tea and was surprised to find it was practically cold, well past lukewarm. He checked the time on the corner of his laptop and almost yelled aloud when he saw that it was 4:17. He’d been in the coffee shop for three hours?

  Quickly saving his most recent manuscript, closing the laptop and stowing it back in his satchel, he burst out of his chair, careful to make sure his bag was securely over his crotch, and ran out the shop.

  As soon as he got into his car, he could feel the engorged part of himself begin to shrivel, almost like magic, and the haze that lingered in his mind begin to recede. Where had all the time gone he pondered as he put his key in his the ignition. He turned his car on ready to drive back to his downtown loft and start his search for a new regular coffee shop. He would try to forget that the ordeal had ever happened.

  Knock. Knock. Reginald jumped in his seat, then recovered his composure after seeing who was at the window. “Hello?”

  “Hi.” Whitney smiled at him from outside his passenger seat window. “I wanted to come out here and make sure you were okay Mr. Brigg. You rushed out so fast.”

  He returned her smile and shot her a thumbs up. “I’m fine. I just didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Really, you don’t have to—wait a minute,” he paused, trying to figure out just who this beautiful woman was and why he felt so drawn to her. “How do you know my name?”