
Cobblestone Press www.cobblestone-press.com
Copyright ©2007 by Yolanda Sfetsos
First published in 2007
NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This one's for my muse and everything paranormal. They make a terrific combination.
I'd also like to thank Sable Grey and Deanna Lee, who helped lead me down this terrific path with their first acceptance.
The rupture of the bullet as it hit its target still resounded inside his head. It used to happen almost every night, whenever Matt Jensen took the opportunity to catch some sleep. But now the memory would even find him if he sat in silence long enough.
It was a constant hit to his broken heart. One that after almost a year should have eased, but it hadn't. The pain of loss was still raw, especially with Halloween night fast approaching.
Matt had wrestled with the building emotions for weeks during the time they protected her from the dark creatures that skirted reality. The initial desire had warped into more, something that included his heart.
But she was gone now.
He'd waited too long to confess how he felt, hadn't taken the opportunity to let her know while she was within reach. Fate had decided they were never meant to be.
He didn't believe in destiny, but Alana had. She believed in a lot of things. One of them was Matt. But he had let her down, wasn't able to protect her in the end.
"Are you listening, man?"
Matt sighed, nodded slowly.
"What the hell's the matter with you lately, anyway?" Cain's blue eyes were wide and angry.
His friend and business partner had put up with his absentminded attitude since her death.
"We have to focus if we're going to do this," he continued.
"I know, I know." Matt ran a hand through his hair. He was overdue for a haircut, but didn't care about mundane details in his constant state of loss. "It's just---"
"It's just nothing! Matt, she's been gone for a year. Can't you just let her go? Don't look at me like I don't know, man. We've known each other too long." The same force Cain used every time he suspected Matt was lost in daydreams of what could've been was applied now.
This was a conversation they'd exchanged too many uncomfortable times. And Matt knew exactly how sick and tired his friend was with the topic. Cain just didn't understand what it was like to truly love someone.
"It hasn't been a year yet," he whispered. Matt cut his gaze across the parking lot, wanting to avoid Cain's. A woman in a white uniform headed toward the only car left in the large lot. What the hell was she doing on her own out here anyway?
After so many years of doing this, Matt still couldn't believe how many people constantly put their lives on the line without a moment's thought to consequence. If they'd seen and felt half the stuff he had, most would never leave their home. And even then, cocoon themselves from the many nasty things that took refuge in people's abodes.
"Whatever, man. Honestly, I'm getting a little bit sick of you moping around all the time. She's not the only chick in the world, y'know?" Cain continued his barrage. "What you need right now is an easy lay. Someone to blow your mind full of sex so much that you won't even remember her name afterward. Tell you what, after this we'll pop into a pub and pick you up a nice piece of ass. Someone has to make you forget all about Alana!"
"Check it out!" Matt pointed his chin toward the lonely blonde-haired woman in the parking lot. He wanted to abandon this conversation. He'd heard it a million times, but the answer was still the same. No one would ever replace, or make him forget about Alana. She was his one big regret. Still, that wasn't why he couldn't let go.
Cain didn't know it, but he'd fallen in love with her. And on that day, before she was stolen away from him, Matt had planned to tell her. That day he'd woken up knowing, deep in his heart, that he and Alana were meant to be together. The tension, the flirting and teasing, it would all turn into a meaningful relationship.
That was before a human weapon killed her.
"Okay, are you ready?"
"Of course, I'm ready!" Matt made a move to stand up, but his friend caught his denim jacket.
"No, man, I'm serious! Are you up for this, or will it be more dangerous to have you face this thing than to leave you here?"
Matt pulled his jacket out of Cain's grip. "Don't be stupid. Of course, I'm up for this!"
"That's what you said back in Tassie and look how that almost turned out."
"That wasn't my fault!" That incident had also taken place a month after her death. Less than a month after she'd been buried six feet under, and he'd had no choice but to face that Alana was gone forever. He'd never really accepted it. Sometimes reality was harder to believe than myth, especially in his life.
"You almost got us killed," Cain whispered.
"Back off." Matt stood up the rest of the way, stalked out from behind the bushes and into the open parking lot. They'd had no choice but to hide a fair distance from the lonely car and wait until the last minute. The lot was too open and empty. Now the creature was already on her.
"Matt!"
The creature's shadowy body buzzed, revealed itself for a second as it struggled to keep the woman's mouth open long enough to complete its invasion. Matt wasn't going to allow that to happen. Not on his watch. No one would ever die on his watch again.
Matt pulled out his small bottle of holy water and uncapped it as he ran and gained ground.
It was so quiet here that even the cap made a sound loud enough to echo in the night. He was only a few feet away from them now. The creature's red eyes were bright in the haze of black that was its face.
"Matt!" his friend continued to call.
He didn't pay any attention. What the hell was wrong with Cain that he felt a need to give away their approach?
Matt slowed down to a walk, took two long and heavy strides as he inhaled small breaths to calm himself. The stench of rot attacked his nasal passage instantly. This thing looked as if it had literally crawled out of the sewers.
Matt threw the bottle against the woman's chest. It wasn't the most sensitive thing to do, but hers was the corporal body. The glass shattered instantly, and the liquid contents splashed onto the murky entity. The writhing was instant, as was the high-pitched squeal.
The woman fell out of its grip and collapsed against the side of her car, slid off and landed on her butt. Matt made a move toward her to help her up, but Cain was at his side.
He grabbed his elbow. "It's not over yet, man. Look at it properly."
The main mass of black was disintegrating right in front of their eyes, but another smaller one tore away from it with an audible slurp.
"What the hell?"
"It's a companion demon."
"A what?" Matt turned to look at his friend in utter confusion. As far as he knew, they both had access to the same texts, the same Web sites and occult contacts. Where had he been getting the extra knowledge?
"A companion demon travels as one entity but is really two---male and female. They force their way into a human body, live in it for as long as it takes to consume it from the inside out, and suck that person into them as well. Then, there are three. Make sense? It keeps expanding, gains size until it becomes so big it's almost impossible to defeat." Cain explained the new discovery without making eye contact. His gaze was pinned on the creature still writhing from the holy water attack, while the other half slowly detached itself.
"How did you know that?"
"That's not important at the moment. All that matters is that we get rid of it right now!" Cain had his own bottle of holy water out, except his was a one liter bottle. He uncapped it, walked toward the entity, and poured the contents onto the cloudy mass.
The commotion continued, as did the high-pitched squeals. Cain poured the water until the bottle was empty. Both halves of the creature vanished completely.
Cain stood still for a few seconds before he made his way toward the woman. He threw the bottle on the ground.
The woman was crying, huddled against the side of her car. She jumped when he kneeled down beside her. Cain grabbed her chin softly, forced her face up so he could meet her eyes.
"I need you to drink this." He said offering a small bottle like the one Matt used on the first entity.
"What ... what is it?" she cried. The woman rubbed her face with the back of her hand.
"What's your name, hon?"
Matt felt his insides quiver. A flash shot through his mind. Back to the late winter morning when they'd met the gorgeous, raven-haired Alana Alvarez. She'd contacted them and was willing to pay whatever it took to exorcise her apartment. She believed a legion of demons had found their way into her home. Cain had asked her what her name was in the same manner he'd just done with this stranger.
That silky, caring voice that could be friend or lover ... given the choice, maybe even both.
"Sandy."
"Okay, Sandy, I need you to drink this for me," Cain said with a small smile. "It's to make sure that monster didn't get the opportunity to hurt your soul."
"My soul...?" she echoed. The tears fell along her cheeks, and Cain caught a few with his thumb.
"Please, it's not much. Just drink the contents of this tiny bottle, and we'll know for sure."
She eventually nodded, took the bottle into her shaky fingers, and drank the contents. The glass shattered a few seconds later when she dropped it on the gravel. Her face scrunched up as she stuck her tongue out.
"Does it burn, Sandy?"
"No, it's disgusting," she said with a cough.
Cain looked over his shoulder, met Matt's eyes, and nodded.
That was code for: She's clear.
"I'm so scared. Do you think you could make sure I get home all right?"
"Sure, we can drive behind you." Cain nodded as he made a move to stand up, but she caught his hand.
Sandy shook her head, spared a quick glance at Matt before she turned her attention back to him. "No, I meant just you and me. In my car, I doubt I could sleep alone tonight after this."
"Oh."
Matt sighed.
Cain sounded so sincere and surprised, but he knew that his partner always used this tactic on damsels in distress. Now that he thought about it, Cain seemed to find it hard to separate business from pleasure. Sure, this woman wasn't paying them, but the man who'd hired them to take out the demon was. In fact, except for Alana and the odd girl who just wasn't into guys, Cain wound up bedding every one of the females they crossed paths with.
"Okay, I can do that for you." He stood up, this time taking her with him.
"Thanks."
"Just give me a sec, huh hon?" Cain turned away and headed for Matt. He lowered his voice when he got close enough. "You're okay with this, aren't you, mate?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"I wasn't lying about the pub thing though. You and I need to pick up a nice babe for you real soon, but tonight I need to console this poor, scared woman." Cain winked as he checked her out over his shoulder. "She'll be real grateful that I saved her tonight."
"Yeah, you do that. I'll pick up the cash."
"That's not necessary. I can handle it later on."
Matt rolled his eyes. "I think you'll be busy later on. Don't worry. I can handle the money."
"But can you handle Miller?"
"Sure I can." Matt knew for a fact that there was no way Samson Miller would answer his own door. One of his servants would make the payment.
"All right, if you're sure." The shadows that played along Cain's face made him look different, eerie.
"Just go. Don't keep her waiting." Matt gave him a friendly push. "Get out of here."
"Thanks mate. Don't wait up for me, huh?" he called over his shoulder as he walked toward the woman.
"I never do," Matt whispered as his friend climbed into the passenger side of the stranger's car. After all, that's exactly what she was, another stranger who Cain trusted just because she was a female. He'd tried to warn him before, but Cain was fearless. Besides, after he fell in love with Alana---also a client---Matt couldn't exactly throw stones.
The small white car drove past, and Cain offered him a wave.
Matt returned it as he stood alone in the open parking lot. Only one light was erected toward the back. Other than that, the place was concealed by trees on three of its four square sides. It was situated behind a bunch of stores, which explained what a woman in a white uniform had been doing here alone at night.
Well, she wasn't going home alone.
The only one alone now was Matt.
Cain and Matt had been business partners for years. And friends for even longer, but he still felt alone most of the time. He'd run away from home as a teenager. After he found out his mother was some sort of medium who channeled ghosts all the time, and that his father was less than human. He never understood, not even now, how his mother had conceived him with a dead man.
After he found out the truth, Matt couldn't stick around any longer. It was sick. It still made him sick to the stomach to think that his mother would do something so screwed up. He'd always known she was strange and different, but never realized she'd pushed her crap onto him.
Cain didn't know Matt's secret about his mother. He'd never been comfortable with it himself, let alone enough to share it. Well, that was a lie. He had confided in one person---Alana. He'd told her about his mother's confession on his sixteenth birthday. Though he would've been more than happy to keep living the lie his mother initially told him:
"I'm sorry honey, but your father left us a long time ago and won't ever come back," she said on his tenth birthday.
On his thirteenth, she claimed that she would "help him connect with your father one of these days." And since he'd assumed his father was dead and buried, he didn't understand what she meant.
Until his sixteenth birthday when she gave him a gold chain and cross she claimed had belonged to his father. She told him he could use it to connect with his ghost. "Matt, your father and I ... There's no easy way to tell you this, honey. But he was a ghost when we conceived you. He'd been dead for years, but his ghost constantly connected with me."
Those were the last words he'd heard her say. Matt learned to block out the rest of the conversation. He'd packed a few things and left that night. Matt didn't bother to contact her after that, but he knew she was as dead as Alana. He'd felt her touch his shoulder several times, whisper for him to turn around and talk to her. But he couldn't.
He could never forgive her.
Yet, he couldn't help but wonder ... if he'd listened, would he have learned a little more about the gift that was manifesting inside him?
He knew that whatever power his mother possessed had been passed on to him. And now with Alana gone, Matt wished he knew how to use it selectively. He didn't want to connect with the ghosts that tried to get his attention. He only wanted to connect with Alana, even if it was for one last time.
He would never forget her.
"I will never forget you either," the whisper was in the air.
Matt shook with the cool breeze that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned around in a full circle to make sure he was still alone.
He was.
A shiver slid down his spine, and he shook it away.
Matt picked up the discarded water bottle and pulled the car keys out of his jeans pocket. Then decided it was best to leave the parking lot and all the memories it was stirring up inside him.
The only thing Cain was right about was that he did have to get on with his life. Sure, it didn't have to involve other women, but he needed to clear his head of all the pain.
And with Halloween night only a few days away, maybe it would be as simple as a cleansing spell.
Not that he believed in magic.
Alana's hand was stretched out in front of her long after she'd watched Matt walk out of the parking lot. She finally retracted the hand that had touched his arm. She was positive he hadn't felt her, again. This was getting harder with each passing moment that he didn't realize she was there, in the corner of his consciousness.
She waited patiently for Matt to open up to his gift. The gift that would allow them to see, talk to, and feel each other again.
"Oh, Matt." Alana hated to see him look so sad, so alone. "I'm right here waiting for you."
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.
"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 understand. 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.
"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 important? 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.
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.
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 fallen 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.
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 little 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.
"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.
"I'm glad you boys could make it, I was starting to worry."
Matt felt the goosebumps rise along his skin, even below the jacket, when he walked into the dimly lit room. He suddenly had a bad feeling about this. The walls felt too constricting. Felt as if they would start to close in on them at any second. A small throb had also ignited at the base of his skull.
Samson Miller stood near one of the four stone walls inside the subterranean level he and Cain were taken to directly after they'd arrived. The man who'd given him the money the first time he'd come to the massive house had led the way, then disappeared.
"Why would we miss this?" Cain said with a smile. He took a step farther into the room, leather jacket creaking with every move.
"Would you two like a drink?" Miller asked as he raised his own amber-colored glass.
"No thanks," Cain answered. "Why don't we just get on with this?"
"Ah, yes, the always impatient Cain Morris. You have been waiting a long time for this, haven't you?" Miller chuckled. He fixed his dark eyes on Cain.
Matt took the opportunity to really gaze at the man. He appeared to be in his fifties, with gray peppered in the hair near his temples. Samson Miller might be well off, but he was a small, thin man who looked powerless. Maybe even a little sickly with his gaunt features. A thin moustache adorned his upper lip, and the small black eyes were almost rodent-like.
"Just get on with it," Cain said with a sneer.
"Very well, let's not waste any more time then. Trust me when I say that I've been waiting for this moment a whole lot longer than you." Miller turned his attention to Matt. Those uncanny eyes firmly pinned on his. "So, Matt Jensen, I wonder if you realize just how special you really are."
The tingly feeling spread downward, from the top of his head. Matt felt as if a trickle of cold water soaked his hair, but it was just the feeling of doom that extended throughout his body.
He closed his eyes for a second, a hand at the base of his neck to massage the pain away. But it wouldn't go away.
When Matt turned his gaze back to Miller, he took a wobbly step back. The thin man was suddenly surrounded by an aura of wispy shapes, like mist. But it wasn't mist. They were people ... or at least the spirits of people.
"Help us!" one of them called as he circled around Miller's torso.
"What's wrong, dear boy?" Miller took a step forward, glass still in his hand. "Tell me, what do you see?"
"Please release us from this bondage," another voice called. "You have no idea what it's like to be forever tied to your killer."
"Help me." The voices all called out in frantic, haunted tones that shook his very soul. Were those the ghosts of everyone this man had killed?
"It's all right."
Matt felt her familiar touch on his right arm.
Alana stepped up beside him. He turned to look at her but her eyes were on Miller's approach. Her grip tightened around his forearm.
"I'm here with you now. You did the right thing, opening up your awareness like that. But it's also made you vulnerable to the ghosts that haunt him," Alana whispered.
"He killed them all?"
She nodded. "Samson Miller is a sorcerer."
"A what?"
"Who the hell's he talking to?" It was Cain who asked the question. The frown on his face gave him a darker edge than Matt had ever noticed before.
"To his lover, of course," Miller answered.
"His lover? What're you talking about?"
"He's talking to Alana Alvarez. The woman you shot instead of the target I hired you for." The old man turned toward Cain with a pointed look. As he swiveled around, he threw the glass against the wall to his right. It shattered into tiny pieces that all collected back together and reformed the small glass in midair.
It fell on the floor, once again intact.
That caught Matt's attention. His head felt light, heart beat hard with a hollow thump that echoed behind each sound. Sickness stirred inside his stomach as his eyes searched his friend's. The man he'd met as a boy. Two teenagers with a common goal---to make it out alive, and somehow make a living out of this darkness of the supernatural that had chased them throughout their lives.
They'd been best friends, more like brothers. This couldn't be right. Surely, he was having some sort of bizarre nightmare.
"Matt, it's true." Alana's soft voice caressed his ears. "I'm sorry. I was supposed to prepare you for this revelation, but he kept appearing."
"What'd you mean by that?" He turned to face her.
"I couldn't contact you because you refused the gift of who you really are, but Cain's constant presence around you kept me from using my own." Her answer was quick.
"You said he'd never need to find out!" Cain snapped at the older man.
Matt turned his attention back to the other two people inside this creepy room.
Cain grabbed Miller by the arm and forcibly made him turn to face him.
Matt watched, with Alana beside him.
"Get your hands off me or you'll be sorry."
"You stupid old prick. I never should've made any sort of deal with you."
"Greed and jealousy do strange things to people."
The look in Cain's eyes was hard and dark. "It's not why I did it."
"No? You weren't jealous of your friend's ability to see dead people? How many times have you tried to harness the power out of him by way of potions I've provided for you?" Miller spat out each word. A small smile teased his lips. "Does he know about the secret bank account where you keep stashing the share of money you believe is yours? A monetary compensation for missing out on a little paranormal streak."
Matt took a step forward. "Is all this true? You've been hustling me since the beginning?"
Cain turned to look at him. He looked like a stranger, a shadow of himself. "You don't understand what it was like for me!"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"What about you? You kept that ability of yours a secret from me!"
"I kept it a secret from myself." Matt took another step forward. His hands were closed into tight fists at his sides. Alana's hand had fallen away from him. He was all alone now, had to deal with this ultimate revelation and betrayal in the only way he knew how.
They stood in front of each other, both Miller and Alana temporarily forgotten. Cain didn't move, just glared at him. Matt didn't hesitate; he smacked him in the nose with his fist.
Blood gushed out instantly. Cain took a step back, hands over his nose.
"You knew how I felt about her, but you killed her anyway!"
"That bullet was meant for you."
"No, it wasn't." But even as the words fell through his lips, everything started to make perfect sense to him.
Cain regained composure long enough to flash a blood-stained grin. "You're too clever aren't you, bro?"
"You heartless bastard. I loved her!"
Miller cleared his throat and spoke. "Tell me what he's saying isn't true, Cain! I paid you good money to injure Matt long enough to bring him here for the necessary proceedings."
"You took his weapon and money, made him believe that you had agreed to shoot me when all along it was Alana you were really aiming for!" Matt's head spun at the realization. Just how deep and twisted was his friend's betrayal?
Cain laughed. "She was just another chick, but you refused to treat her like a piece of ass! Alana was just gonna get in the way. I didn't need some broad taking you away from me, bro. That power you're so unhappy with would be perfect for me and, one way or another, I wanted to harness it."
"You're nuts."
"No one deceives me like this and lives to tell the story," Miller yelled.
The sharpness of the old man's voice caught Matt's attention.
Miller closed his black eyes. He made a sweeping motion with his left hand as his lips mumbled some sort of chant.
Cain's feet left the floor, and he flew backward.
His body traveled in midair. Almost in slow motion so that Matt could see every separate bone-breaking impact of Cain's spine as it crunched against the unforgiving stone.
He slid to the floor, eyes closed and blood trickling from his mouth as well as his nose.
It only took a few seconds for his spirit to float out of his body and join the others around Miller.
Cain was dead.
There was nothing Matt could do for him now. And although he hated him for what he'd done to Alana, and whatever crazy stunt he planned to do to him, there was still a part of him that mourned the loss of his close friend. How could they have practically lived together for so many years, stayed in one motel room after another, and not truly known each other?
Cain had saved his life so many times. It just didn't make any sense.
It was a sad fact, and one that made him realize that the only person he'd ever truly known his whole life was Alana. She was the only one he trusted enough to confess his ability to, and the reason that he ran away from his mother's house at such a young age.
He looked over his shoulder.
Alana stood with the aura of white around her. She looked like an angel. The thought of her ascending to one eventually made him happy. Overwhelmed with the love he felt so deeply for her. Even if he weren't ready to give her up.
Matt took a step back toward her.
"Where do you think you're going?" Miller wrapped his thin fingers around Matt's wrist and forced him to stop. "I'm not letting you get away from me this time."
"What, you want my stupid gift, too?" He couldn't help but feel like an idiot. All these years he'd tried to forget and hide what he was born to do, only to have others plot behind his back to claim it.
It was all too ironic, and pathetic.
Miller frowned. "Why would I want such a pesky thing attached to me? God knows enough people have died at my hand to make the ability to see the dead a horrendous sentence."
"Matt."
He looked back, thought it was Alana who'd called him, but she shook her head in response.
Matt turned back to the now-crazed Miller. His pale face had darkened, and dark circles were shadowed beneath his eyes.
"Then, what do you want with me?"
"The same thing I've always wanted with all those damn mediums I tracked down---your soul!"
"My soul? Why would you want my soul?"
"Matt, get out of here now!" the voice said. It sounded very familiar, definitely female, but he couldn't place it.
Miller's grip on his wrist burned his skin.
"The soul of a medium is the only one I need to complete the Circle of Souls."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The circle of six includes the souls of a witch, necromancer, psychic, warlock, lycanthrope, and medium. These are the strongest powers harnessed by human supernaturals," Miller answered with a small smile on his wrinkled lips.
"And what will you do with that, rule the world?"
"Ah, if it's the human world you're referring to, no. Why would I want to rule these pathetic untalented beings? No, I'm interested in the other worlds, the ones that hold the real potential. With your soul, the circle would be complete, and I can go anywhere I please." Miller tightened his grip. The air around him buzzed, like heat seen from a distance on a scorching summer day.
The oxygen was getting hard to inhale through his nose.
"Matt honey, don't let him kill you like he did me!"
"Mum?"
The older man laughed. "Oh, Martina is here too, is she? I thought she would've been long gone."
"What did you do to her?"
"She was supposed to be my medium about three years ago, but something happened and she died before I had the chance to complete the process." He shrugged, as if having caused someone's death was just a pesky consequence to him.
"You killed my mother?"
"What does it matter to you anyway? You didn't care about her, did you? You left her, right?"
"Now, I'm back on track." Matt clenched his teeth together as he tried to fight the heat that scorched along his arm.
"No, stop!" Alana yelled.
Miller looked up. "Oh, that's quite fascinating. How did you do that, young lady? You're dead. But you're a ghost who can make herself be seen at will? That's extraordinary. Maybe I'll have to collect your soul, too, afterward."
"I don't think so," another voice joined the scene.
Matt couldn't believe it. Miller could actually see Alana. Come to think of it, for some reason, she appeared more solid than she had before. What was going on here? Everything about this Halloween night was shaping up to be insane!
Cain's betrayal and plans, Alana's warnings, his mother's presence, and now this crazy sorcerer ... that's what Alana called him, right?
"Who said that?" Miller asked. The quivery edges around his body now swayed faster, as if he weren't real but just a mirage.
"That would be me!"
Matt turned in time to catch the thing that answered. His mind struggled to perceive it for whatever it really was. There were several human qualities like arms and hands, maybe even a torso and legs beneath the long robe it wore. But the red eyes pierced outward, beneath the large hood over the head. He thought it was probably a good thing. Whatever was concealed in that scarlet outfit was making his skin crawl.
"Don't worry, it's not here for you," Alana whispered. She was behind him again, like a constant shadow.
"What are you, and what do you want? I didn't summon anything tonight! Get back to where you came from!" Miller called. His hand slipped from Matt's wrist as he turned to face the creature that towered over him.
Alana wrapped her hand around Matt's and encouraged him to take several steps back.
"I'm afraid it's not going to be so easy this time, Samson Jeremiah Miller."
"How did you know my full name?"
"With that many ripe souls wrapped around you, someone was sure to know," the creature answered.
"What are you?" The fear shook Miller's voice.
"I have many names, most of which I refuse to speak publicly. Most refer to me as the Soul Dealer, and I have come to collect."
"No, you can't have any of them, they're all mine."
"Now, now, that's not fair is it? Trying to keep so many strapped to yourself. What do you think will happen to them when you die? I mean, either way your death was bound to be violent, and that just happens to be what I specialize in," the Soul Dealer spoke in a clear and creepy voice.
Miller started another chant in a language Matt couldn't understand.
"None of those will work on me. Now, say goodbye to your souls, including your own!"
Miller's screams ignited instantly as the Soul Dealer grabbed him by the shoulders with its skeletal gray hands. The hood remained over its head as the wispy souls around Samson Miller began to swirl toward the creature. A multitude of them disappeared into the hood.
Matt felt a hand on his shoulder and turned in time to catch a glimpse of the blonde-haired woman he'd left so many years ago. She looked older, but hadn't changed much.
She offered him a small smile as her hand dropped away.
"Mum."
"All I wanted was to keep you safe. Now, I can finally go in peace." She followed the other souls and disappeared into the dark abyss of the Soul Dealer's hood.
He felt the sense of loss wash through him again, but Alana's hand in his kept him centered.
When all the misty souls had disappeared, the creature sucked in Miller's entire frame. Like something out of a horror film, he was sucked into all that blackness from head to toe.
The oxygen around them thinned as the Soul Dealer took a few steps toward them.
Alana stood in front of Matt, trying to shield him. "You can't have him. That wasn't part of the deal."
"Alana, I'm not going to touch him or you. I just wanted to congratulate you on beating me at my own game. Although, with the amount of souls you pointed my way, I can hardly say I'm not a winner, too." The Soul Dealer patted his swollen, rounded stomach.
"What will happen to those souls?" Matt asked. His mother had gone in there, as well as Cain.
"Don't worry, I don't keep them all. Just the ones that want to play against me get to stay. Most of these have predestined places to move on to. Samson was just holding them back. Although that wasn't the case with your mother---you were the one holding her back, Matt."
"Gracias," Alana whispered.
"Oh no, thank you. And enjoy your second chance, but remember that there are no more after this one." The Soul Dealer took two steps back and disappeared completely.
"What did he mean by second chance?" Matt turned his full focus toward her as the burning on his arm started to fade.
Alana offered him a huge smile before she threw her arms around his neck.
"Well, how do you feel now that we know for sure?"
Matt pressed the back of his head against the headrest of the car he knew they'd soon have to trade in, especially now that their circumstances were about to change.
As if to find out that the woman he thought had died twelve months ago was now alive again wasn't shock enough. This was unbelievable.
"Well, are you happy or sad, even angry?"
He sighed, didn't want to meet her eyes just yet. If she read the disbelief, she might assume the opposite to what he really felt. "Well, firstly, I'm totally shocked. Blown away by how this could've happened, but I'm definitely very happy."
"Oh, thank god. I thought you were having doubts for a second there," Alana said with a long sigh of relief.
"No, I'm excited about this and about you." Matt took her hand in his and kissed it lightly. "To have you back is like some sort of miracle, Alana."
"No, that was just me making a deal. But this, this is a miracle." Alana guided his hands to her lower abdomen. "We're having a baby, Matt! Can you believe it?"
"No, to be honest with you, I can't believe it. But I'm going to accept and run with it. Run with you, wherever you want to go. Which reminds me, where are we off to anyway? I'm so stunned I've lost every sense of direction," he said as he looked out the windscreen in front of him. The sun was low in the sky and penetrated the glass so deeply he could see every single scratch etched into it.
He wasn't sure where they should go, but was determined to leave Sydney for a while. There were too many memories here. Not to mention that anyone Alana Alvarez had known during her life assumed she was dead.
"I don't know, do you?"
"Not sure yet, but I need to ask you something."
"Go ahead," she said when her shiny eyes met his.
"Are you sure you're all right with your new chance at life?"
She frowned, seemed confused. "What do you mean?"
Matt sighed. He removed his hand from hers, left the warmth of her abdomen to place it on the steering wheel. "Last night you told me there were certain rules you had to stick to."
"If you're asking me how I feel about never seeing my family again, or not being able to slip back into my old life, then the answer is, I'm fine with it." Her answer seemed rushed. Alana turned her face to look out the passenger side window.
"Are you sure?"
She turned her gaze back to his. "Those were the rules, and I knew them going into this deal. As much as it hurts to never be able to see my parents again, it's the path I chose to take. I just don't understand why the Soul Dealer offered me the opportunity when that bullet was meant for me."
He didn't understand that part either, especially after Cain confirmed his suspicions. But what did it matter now? Nothing that had happened during the last few days was straight forward anyway.
They both sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in their own jumbled thoughts.
Matt couldn't help but think about the fact he'd done the same thing his mother had to conceive a child. How could he have been so stupid and stubborn back then? He'd treated her like an outcast without taking the time to see it through her eyes.
"Well, you know what would be great?" Alana broke the silence.
"What?"
"If we just drove around for the next few months. We can keep our eyes open to the towns and suburbs we pass by to see if we can find the perfect place for us," she suggested happily. "We've still got quite a while before the baby's born. I'm up for an adventure. What about you?"
His gaze found hers. The smile on her pretty face was so wide she was beaming. Or, maybe it was just being pregnant that made her skin buzz so much. Whatever was giving her that gorgeous glow, Matt just hoped she would hold onto it. It wasn't like the aura that surrounded her spirit; this was a very humanly glow. And if he had anything to do with it, it would become a permanent thing. He planned on taking care of her every step of the way. Not just for the child's sake, but because he loved her with a passion he'd never felt before.
"I think that sounds like a plan!"
"Great." She leaned back and closed her eyes for a second.
"But before we go, Alana, there's somewhere I'd like to stop by first." He turned the key in the ignition as she strapped the belt over her chest.
He did the same.
Her brown eyes sparkled as she said, "Sure." And although she didn't say anything else, Matt knew Alana was more than aware of whom he intended to visit.
He reached for the gold chain and cross he'd placed around his neck as soon as he'd woken up. It was strange, but after all these years and all the anger he'd felt toward his mother, he'd never let go of the gold chain that belonged to his dead father.
It was time to close a chapter in his life that he'd left open for too long. If he could go to the cemetery to apologize and say goodbye to his mother, then Matt Jensen could look forward to a bright life with the two new sparks in it.
Yolanda lives in a suburb of Sydney, Australia, with her wonderful husband, cute daughter and adorable kitten. She's been putting stories together since her early teens.
Now that her daughter is in school, she gets the opportunity to write every day, for most of the day, and she loves every minute of it!
When she's not writing she spends as much time as possible with her small family. She also enjoys watching movies, TV shows and reading---she loves to read.
Visit www.cobblestone-press.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.

