26Part Two:
Spread the Word
Soul woke up in his bed. Somehow.
Last night had resulted in a blur of rum, lips, legs and green. He wasn't actually sure how much had transpired, and how much had been a dream cooked up by his overly stimulated drunken mind.
He sat up slowly, tugging the undershirt back into place as he sat up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. It was then that he realized he wasn't in his apartment at all. "Oh, fuck me." He growled and got himself out of bed. Slumping towards the kitchen, he found what he'd been looking for.
A cup of coffee and a smirking older brother.
"Well...how did you sleep."
"Shut up Wes."
"What? I'm genuinely curious. You were ossified beyond recognition last night. Not to mention the curious case of the runaway tie and the mark on your neck."
Soul felt color paint his face before he walked over to the mirror. His demon eyes were tired, and his hangover was worn like a mask. He tilted his head to the side, and just as his brother had said, Ms. Albarn's handiwork adorned his neck.
Trying to be nonchalant, he pushed the hem of his boxers down farther, and found another mark pulled from his skin. So, his apparent tryst with Maka Albarn hadn't been concocted in his drunken stupor. Fantastic.
"Huh."
"Yes it is all quite strange, isn't it?" Wes smirked again, eyeing his cup of coffee. "Especially since I recall seeing a young bootlegger's daughter dancing last night, green tie for her headband. Mind you, this was after she disappeared for a while. Oh, but I don't think you would've noticed her gone, as you had disappeared too. It all remains mysterious."
"No one likes a smart ass Wes."
"I like me just fine." Wes answered before taking another drink of coffee. "Although, I do have to wonder why you went with her. After all, there were plenty of women there. Women who wouldn't make mother cry into her pillow at the thought if you being with, and yet, you picked the bootlegger's daughter?"
"You'd be surprised at how little a choice I actually had."
"She's dangerous little brother. You know that right?"
"Yeah."
"I don't just mean the boot legging. She's dangerous. It's a game for her, whatever she's doing to you. It doesn't mean anything to her, and I don't want you getting hurt."
"She couldn't hurt me."
"Oh but she could. Easily."
"I know it's a game Wes." Soul sighed, rubbing the mark on his neck. "And maybe a game wouldn't be so bad."
"Just be careful little brother. I worry for you."
"I'll be fine. Don't worry."
The man landed in front of her heels, blood sprinkling on her toes.
Maka Albarn rolled her eyes and fixed the tassels on the green dress that had ridden up on her hips during the exchange. Now she had a beautiful dress that almost matched her eyes as well as the stolen tie she had snagged from the youngest Evans brother. But now, her strapping silver shoes were splattered in the red from the man's blood, and red clashed with the green. "Well Mac, you're just hellbent on starting a row, aren't you?"
"I-I'm sorry Ms. Albarn." The man, she hadn't actually picked up his name, mumbled at her feet. She crouched down, keeping herself modestly covered. She clapped her open palm against his face twice and smirked.
"I don't want apologies, Mac. I want the money you owe me and my father for a job well done, and then you're going to add a bonus, because you got blood all over my pretty shoes. Understand Guy?"
"Yes Ms. Albarn."
"Good choice Hombre, and remember, who are we?"
"M-Mr. Albarn and someone I've n-never seen before." The man answered, and Maka pet his head.
"Good. Now scram. I got a party to get to." She watched as he high tailed it out of there, scrambling to get away. Maka only smiled before turning to her father.
Spirit Albarn was taller than his daughter by a head, his vibrant red head of hair hanging in his face, shaking blood off of his knuckles, his face annoyed as he popped his neck. "You know I don't want you telling the bartenders who you are."
"It's my job too." She reminded him. "Even if it isn't technically my name on the runs, it's my brain that created them." A pause. "Besides, I was at his club last night, and with what he's charging, he could be paying us double. I just want what we're owed Papa."
"I suppose that's fair. Better us than the Law right?"
"Even better than being pumped full of lead too." She sighed and shook a tiny ankle, forcing the blood off her shoes. "Damn I do have a party to go it after this."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes sir. Got wind of a nice little jumping joint down on the South side. Rich little family might need to keep their hooch hopping. The Evans throw enough parties that they're constantly in need."
"Hon you know the Evans won't deal with the likes of me."
"They don't have to know it's us. They just have to know it's good rum at a better deal. Regardless of our 'social standing', we have the better deal, and even the illustrious Evans family can do with a deal now and then."
Spirit smiled down at his daughter, trying to ignore the pit he felt looking at the baby child he'd held in his arms as she spoke of deals and shook a man's blood of her shoes. He had turned his daughter into criminal, worse off...she was brilliant at it. "Well, you have fun."
"Oh Papa, I always do."
The Evans didn't do anything halfway.
The club now under their management thrummed with the deep base of jazz music. Patrons danced around each other, rainbows dancing off the glitter on their dresses, lighting up the lust on the drunken men with wandering hands.
Maka found herself at home.
She was sitting at the bar, her dress riding too high on legs that never ended, her hair thrown over her right shoulder, nursing a glass of gin that wasn't what she would consider up to par, but she didn't care right now. She had a nice edge going, and even better company.
Next to her, the two daughters of Rex Thompson, most dangerous mobster who currently resided in Death City, Liz and Patti drank with her. Both of them were staring at Maka's long hair. "Come on precious," Liz cooed at her. "Let's get those locks of yours sheared. Between those gams, those tits and that waist, baby you would be the flapper to end all flappers."
"There's no reason to lose the locks." Maka laughed. "If I don't have my hair, how are any of these lovely people supposed to remember me?"
"Oh, I hear they remember you fine." Liz smirked coyly, Patti giggling next to her. Maka feigned innocence.
"Beg pardon?"
"Oh, don't tell me you haven't noticed the several sets of peepers on you since you walked in."
"Especially little Evans." Patti pointed across the club where the Evans matriarch stood with her two sons, and two girls Maka recognized as some of the richest in the city. His mother was obviously trying to encourage some sort of flirtation, yet Soul's older brothers face betrayed complete indifference with his brilliant smile.
Maka knew; she had the same one.
Her little soldier, however, was staring at her, white eyebrow raised. He was surprised she was there. Awh, he was adorable, thinking she was done with him. At the same time, she wasn't sure she liked the look on his face. It was dangerous. Bemused, smug (as though he did anything of mention last night!), she saw the glaze of lust color those strange eyes, making them a little dimmer than normal, all if which she had expected.
What she hasn't expected was the look of absolute challenge that dominated his features. It was shaded in the shadows on his face, present in the glint of his sharp teeth, it was promised in the red of his eyes. Eyes that she couldn't read, not fully. And that worried her.
Not as much as it aroused her.
Still, it was her game. He couldn't win. So Maka spread her lips and licked them slowly, winking at the youngest Evans brother. She turned back to Liz and Patti, who were both looking at her like they had heard something delicious through the grapevine, something she hadn't been included in. "What's got you two a'twitter?"
"Honey, you're carrying a torch for that soldier, and you're carrying it bright."
Maka threw her head back and laughed, motioning for another drink. "It's like you ladies have never met me. I don't carry a torch, ever. To anyone."
"Oh that's what you say, but right now, all I see is you staring blatently at the younger snowball head in the suit, and really liking what you're seeing."
Maka opened her mouth to answer, but watched as her drink disappeared from in front of her, only to be returned empty a few moments later. Her smile was already on when she looked up at the younger Evans, his smirk as dangerous as her smile. "Ms. Albarn," He nodded at her, before facing Liz and Patti. "Mss. Thompson." He smiled before turning back to Maka. "My apologies, Ms. Albarn, I didn't realize you were still drinking."
"Always plenty more good stuff soldier." She grinned at him, ignoring the pointed stares of her two friends. "Isn't that what makes this country fantastic."
"I actually came to ask you about my tie." His eyes narrowed slightly. "And please, don't call me soldier."
"Ah, of course! I'm afraid it's joined my collection of headbands. I do hope you don't mind too terribly much. It's so hard to find the right shade of green that matches my eyes. A girl has to do her shopping wherever she can."
"I see…perhaps you can help me then?" His eyebrow was raised again, and that challenge she had seen so clearly from far away was much more enticing up close where she could read those ruby eyes. "Ladies, would you mind if I borrowed her for a moment? I have some business to discuss."
Liz and Patti glanced at each other; sly smiles passed between them silently communicated about whether it truly was business, or pleasure, or perhaps even both. The Evans family was a big fish, and Maka's father could stand to make a lot of money if they started using him. So, the two mob princesses excused themselves and trotted over to the dance floor. Soul watched them leave, before turning back to Maka, who was smiling as she was filled up again, another glass set down for Soul.
"I must say, that's a high collar on your suit."
"Well, it would appear your little mark was perfectly visible in most everything I owned. I assumed that was on purpose."
"I'm quite nefarious, you should realize this." She grinned at him again, noting the close proximity in which he'd chosen to stand next to her. She could feel most every pair of peepers rest of the two of them for a few seconds before they moved on, but there was someone staring blatantly at her, and Maka finally glanced over her shoulder in order to survey the crowd, and she once again found red eyes staring at her.
Celeste Evans did not look happy with her son so close to her.
Maka enjoyed that sentiment greatly.
"You are a bit nefarious for you own good." Soul sighed and took his drink. Maka watched him swallow the liquor, and she swallowed herself.
"Say, soldier."
"Soul."
"Soul, are you needed here?" Her voice was low, and she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth while she asked, her eyes locking on his, and she saw the light in them fade with lust once more. She slipped her hand into his, and he started pulling her towards the back, the severe face of his mother watching as Maka disappeared with her son, and sent her a little wave before she went.
She was pushed against the car in the alley, and before she could even complain, his body covered hers.
His hands trailed up her sides, his mouth slanted against hers, and Maka wasn't about to let him take control. She gripped his hips tight and ground her body against his, making sure she went slow enough that he could feel every part of her body against his. Soul moaned into her mouth, and brought a hand against her tit, rubbing his knuckles against it. Maka jerked against him, and she pulled away, breathing harsh. He raised an eyebrow at her, and it took her a second to realize that he was asking if it was okay.
This bastard and his manners.
She rolled her eyes and hips at the same time, bringing the breathlessness back into his voice. He flattened his palms against the car behind them, before his head shot up, and he looked at her with the biggest smirk she'd ever seen on a human being.
Soul pulled her closer to his body, and popped one of the doors to the car open, before helping her inside. She fell back into the tiny back seat, long legs struggling to find a place to rest. He finally helped solve the mystery of where to set her gams, because he threw them over his shoulders. She wanted to protest, she wasn't here to get her rocks off, that wasn't the point of the game, but then his hand began slowly rubbing circles into the skin of her legs, while he pressed his lips to the inside of her knee.
A small whimper bubbled of from chasms forgotten to her, and she felt her arousal grow, dangerously. She didn't want to be this anticipative, didn't want to want to have him continue, but she did, and he didn't disappoint her. His hands continued to travel up and down her long legs, fingernails barely scraping against her flesh. His mouth traveled downwards, kissing her legs until she was almost panting, and his fingers had found the hem of her underwear. He looked up at her, once again as if he were asking her permission. She took a deep breath and nodded, waiting to see exactly what he was planning. She wasn't a stranger to a romp in a car, but she certainly wasn't sure how he was going to fit back here. There was barely enough room for her, and as he slid her panties down her legs she wondered exactly what he was planning-
"Hahh!" She threw her head back as his tongue came in contact with her sex, her hands finding stability in his thick head of hair. Oh fuck her; she hadn't been expecting that at all. But Soul didn't stop running his tongue across her slit, his hands gripping at her hips so hard, she was sure she'd have bruises to remind her of this a few days from now, but she wasn't thinking about that right now. If fact, she wasn't thinking about any of that right now.
His tongue accidently flicked against her clit, and Maka's hand tightened in his hair, and she threw her head back and moaned. Soul took note, obviously enjoying the way her legs were slowly constricting his head, and the breathy whimpers that spoke to him on primal level, telling him that under pain of death, he should not stop what he's doing. He opens his mouth against her, and soon he's kissing her there like he would her mouth, and Maka is fairly certain she's seeing stars fall and Gods laugh at her. The grip in his hair becomes painful as she catches herself grinding against him, her clit rubbing against his tongue.
The hands she had been ignoring suddenly pop back into her focus as he slips on of his fingers inside of her, curling against her in time with his tongue, and she can't help but squeeze her legs again. Soul pulls away from her long enough to nip at her thigh with his sharp teeth, and she squeaks, hearing him take in a massive breath before diving back to her. She tries to pull words to the forefront of her brain, and she forced a smile through her trembling. "If you needed, hahh, air, you could've just a-asked soldier."
He glanced up at her, eyes flashing as he growled against her, the feeling making her back arch from the backseat, and her voice whimper once again. "I'm not a soldier." He spoke against her, slipping a second finger in with his first one, the second digit creating more as the onslaught continued against her. "My-"
"Ahh, oh god." She cried, her hand digging into his hair, and the leather of the back seat.
"Name-" His fingers danced within her faster, and she vaguely remembers hearing that the younger Evans brother was a genius on the piano, and she was understanding how true that was first hand.
"Hahhhh, fuck, fuck, fuck." She moaned, feeling the fire in her stomach ignite, she was rapidly approaching an edge that came from nowhere.
"Is-"
"Soul!" She screamed his name to the top of the car as she came around his fingers, and her legs shook against him. Her back flew from the seat and her vision went white and she went stick straight for several seconds before she fell back against the leather once more, heart beating against her ribcage like it personally wanted to pop out and shake Soul's hand itself. She couldn't stop trying to catch her breath, but she couldn't look away from Soul either, as he pulled himself up, and wiped her off the back of his hand with a smile, before sucking his two fingers clean.
She whimpered at that, and he smiled down at her, before gathering her up in his arms, and flipping them so that she was laying over him in the small backseat, and he slammed the door closed with his foot. She didn't understand him, didn't understand why he hadn't just left her there like she'd left him, didn't understand why he held her like she mattered, and didn't understand why he made sure to run his tongue across his teeth before he kissed her.
"Who are you?"
"Soul. I'm trying to get you to see that. Currently, it's not going so well."
"I don't…I don't understand you." She was admitting too much to him, in her punch drunk afterglow, but she couldn't stop talking. "I know for a fact you're not dead down there, so why haven't you started pushing on my head and insisting I return the favor? Or telling me to roll over and take it silently."
"Because, Ms. Albarn, technically, I'm returning the favor from last night. And besides, we're in the backseat of a car. That's hardly proper."
"But licking me stupid passes your test, Soul?"
He grinned at the mention of his name. "Why, I wouldn't debase you by making you 'roll over and take it silently' in a car. You deserve a bed in the least, I think. Besides, you haven't once said if you want me to sleep with you, and I think that's something rather important that's missing here, wouldn't you say?"
She couldn't believe him, he couldn't be real. But he seemed so serious. She had to know, had to know if it was really him who thought this, or if it was just some act. She'd met some of the nicest guys before, but even nice guys had fists, and she wasn't about to make that mistake again.
"Do you have to go back?" She asked him, and Soul closed his eyes and managed a shrug.
"No, probably not. I've already left in the middle of the party, my rudeness has been noted."
"Then come with me, yeah? I want to show you something."
