The_Demons_Wife_ARC

by Rick Hautala

  “And if something does go wrong?”

  “I swear to God”—and here he flinched a little—“Nothing will harm you as long as I exist.”

  She stared into Samael’s eyes, comforted by the determination she saw, and remembered why she fell in love with him in the first place. She slipped her arms around his neck and drew him so close their noses were touching.

  “I love you, you damned fool,” she said in a low, husky voice. “And I will do whatever it takes to save you.”

  “Yes,” he said, “but are you willing to sell your soul to redeem mine?” Samael pulled back and looked at her, his eyebrows raised to devilish points.

  Claire regarded him with a long, steady look before saying, “Samael. I’m your wife. I love you. I gave you my heart, but I—” She choked before she said the words: “But I will never give you or anyone else my soul. It belongs to me.”

  “I know that.”

  A long, dense silence stretched between them, broken only by the gritty sound of icy pellets slashing against the windows.

  Finally, Samael smiled at her and said softly, “Correct answer.”

  And then their mouths came together in a passionate kiss that made the rest of the world melt away.

  ~ * ~

  It was almost midnight, and Claire and Samael were sitting side by side on one of the couches, their arms wrapped around each other. They hadn’t been talking much.

  “Look at it snow,” she said, gazing contentedly at the white streaks shooting past the living room window. The light from inside the house illuminated them for one brief shining moment, and then they were gone.

  Like a mortal life to him, Claire thought.

  But more snowflakes followed. It was snowing much harder now. Although she hadn’t had time to consider checking the weather forecast, Claire guessed there would be several inches of new snow—if not lots more—on the ground come morning.

  Samael’s expression didn’t vary as he looked from her to the window. She wondered if, since snow and cold were the exact opposite of what he had known for so long and probably thrived on, the thought of snow and ice and cold bothered or even unnerved him.

  But then again, the Hell Mouth had been blue, and it had filled the living room—and her—with a bone-snapping chill.

  “Great night for a romantic walk in the snow, huh?” she said.

  Samael sniffed and looked at her, shaking his head.

  “Considering the circumstances,” he said, “I’d say that’s probably not the best idea.”

  Leaning forward, she pressed her face against his chest, reveling in the simple joy of listening to his steady heartbeat—

  Yes…demons do have hearts.

  —and letting her head rise and fall with each breath he took.

  “I mean—this is going to end, right? And we’ll be able to live like normal people, right?”

  Samael was stroking her red hair as he looked at her and nodded.

  “Absolutely,” he said, and she knew that either he was telling the truth or was absolutely determined to make it so.

  “And what do we do in the meantime?”

  “We wait here where it’s safe.”

  Her arms tightened around him, squeezing.

  “For richer or poorer,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest.

  “In sickness and in health,” Samael added.

  That made a smile twitch the corners of her mouth, but she knew—to the depths of her being—that this…this was where she belonged.

  Still, that didn’t assuage the fear and nervousness and exhaustion.

  “We should go to bed,” she said.

  “I think I’ll stay up a bit more and…see what happens.”

  The note of resignation in his voice bothered her, but she knew there was little—if anything—she could do.

  And she was exhausted.

  “Is it all right if I go to bed, then?”

  Without saying a word, his gaze fixed on the living room window, Samael nodded.

  Claire turned to go, but she hesitated at the door. It felt odd…uncomfortable to leave him alone like this. She felt a strong wave of pity for him and what he obviously had to face for…however long. She also felt a surge of admiration…and gratitude. He wouldn’t be in this mess if he hadn’t fallen in love with her. Nobody had ever loved her enough to risk death, much less eternal redemption…and she had never loved anyone the way she loved Samael.

  “Samael?”

  He looked over at her.

  “We’ll be all right,” he said softly. Then he smiled and nodded, his expression gentle. “It may be tough going for a while, but—yeah. I have no doubt we’re gonna be all right.”

  With that, Claire turned and walked down the long hallway to the staircase leading up to the second floor. Even in the hallway, she could hear a soft tearing sound as the wind wrapped its arms around the house. She had a momentary image of the house being lifted off its foundation and flying away into the night like Dorothy’s house in The Wizard of Oz.

  But there’d be a hell of a lot more than the Wicked Witch of the West and Munchkins waiting at the end of this ride.

  She was half-amused and half-scared by the thought.

  Sliding her hand along the polished mahogany handrail, she climbed the stairs slowly. With each step up, her feet felt heavier. She wondered if the strain of the situation was tiring her so much, or if—somehow—the demons or dark forces ranged against Samael were wearing her down. She believed Samael when he said she wasn’t the target, but that didn’t mean she was safe. They could—and would—use her to get at him.

  Isn’t that how evil operates?

  Find the weakness and vulnerabilities, and exploit them.

  “So…what are my weaknesses?” she asked herself out loud as she scuffed up the stairs.

  The sound of her voice reverberated oddly in the wide stairwell, and she had the impression someone else had spoken simultaneously with her. Wide-eyed, she turned and looked down the sweeping stairway, but there was no one…or nothing…in sight.

  Still…that didn’t mean she was safe, even here…

  About halfway up the stairs, with every nerve in her body prickling, she felt a subtle electrical charge running from the stairs up her legs to her chest and throat. Off to one side, there was a wide, double window. She glanced at it, not knowing what—if anything—she expected to see.

  All she saw was the dark slab of night. The lights on the stairway reflected off the glass with a harsh glare that made it impossible for her to see the falling snow outside. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, but then the thought occurred to her that the darkness outside the window appeared to be too dark.

  How is that so?

  It was like something…outside…was pressed against the glass, blocking out any view outside because whatever was at the window was watching her.

  It’s nothing, she told herself, but the feeling that there was something out there wouldn’t go away.

  Gripping the handrail with one hand, she glanced up and down the stairs as if expecting to see…

  What?

  A hellish, drooling creature, waiting to pounce on her and rend her limb from limb?

  A smiling, blue-faced demon, ready to seduce her soul?

  Or something—she couldn’t image what, but something she wasn’t expecting?

  She returned her gaze to the window. It was now plain that there was something out there. Her first thought was that the blue face—the Hell Mouth she had seen outside the living room window had gotten up there and was still watching her…gathering strength as it waited to strike again. She didn’t know the layout of the house, inside and out, well enough to know how or if anything could get up there. Maybe it had wings and was hovering in the night…or claws that let it cling to the side of the house.

  Of course they can go anywhere, she told herself. They’re demons. They can do anything they want, can’t they?

  Well, maybe
not anything. As far as she knew, Samael couldn’t fly. And after all, Michael had done something to the house to make it so nothing could get inside or out.

  As she was staring at the shape in the window, it hit her.

  It wasn’t just one shape.

  It was many shapes…many small, black things.

  She realized with a jolt that a swarm of bats was fluttering against the window. Their wings and claws were scratching and skittering across the glass as they tried to pry the window open and get inside.

  “Bats?…In a snowstorm?” she said to herself.

  But the longer she stared, the clearer she could make out the hundreds of tiny fanged faces staring at her. Their small, yellow eyes glowed like flying cinders in the snow-swept darkness, and then it hit her.

  They all had miniature versions of Samael’s face.

  Claire was so startled she wasn’t able to call out to Samael, and finally she decided not to because—she told herself—This is just another illusion that’s supposed to frighten me. She didn’t want to look like a frightened little girl who freaked out about everything. If Samael said the house was safe, the house was safe.

  “Fuck you,” she whispered as she raised her middle fingers and thrust it toward the bats. The motion—or something—set them off, and they started scrambling and squeaking all the more.

  And then she turned her head and continued up the stairs, confident that neither the bats—not anything else—could get inside.

  ~ * ~

  Before she went to the master bedroom, she decided to check in on Sally.

  Hopefully, she was sleeping peacefully and recovering her wits, but Claire knew that, whatever had happened, Sally would never again be the same.

  Tears welled in her eyes as she approached the guest room door. Her fingers grasped the doorknob lightly and, after taking a breath, she turned the doorknob as softly as she could. She didn’t want to disturb Sally if she was asleep. Still holding her breath, she pushed the door open quietly, its bottom edge whispering across the plush carpet.

  The room was dimly lit—just as she and Samael had left it—and Sally was lying on her back on the bed, the sheets and blankets covering her body to her chin. Her head was propped up on several pillows, so she looked almost like she was sitting up.

  Claire stopped short.

  Sally’s eyes were wide open, and she was staring at her.

  Claire also noticed that Sally’s face and hands were completely healed—no swelling, no bruising, no puffiness.

  Uh-oh, was Claire’s first thought. There’s some major shit going down here.

  The glassy, blank expression on Sally’s face chilled Claire. The look in her eyes was far from human. Her eyeballs glistened wetly in the dim light. They seemed to glow with some strange, internal fire. The cold, steady gaze was reptilian. It fixed Claire where she stood.

  Claire returned Sally’s stare, not wanting to back down. She had no doubt who was the more powerful one here. She knew—without doubt—this wasn’t the real Sally as her former roommate stared at her without blinking.

  “Are you okay, Sal?”

  Even before Claire finished her question, Sally slipped her tongue out between her lips. It extended much further than was possible, flickering back and forth like a snake’s tongue, sniffing and testing the air.

  Claire was mesmerized, and only gradually she realized she was moving again—without willing it—slowly toward the bed where her friend lay. She looked down at her feet as if they belonged to someone else, watching in amazement as they slid forward, gliding over the carpet like she was sliding on ice.

  When Claire looked up at Sally, she was shocked to see her sitting straight up in the bed. She pushed the bed covers aside with a casual sweep of the hand. They floated, moving in slow motion and fell aside, exposing Sally’s body.

  Only it wasn’t Sally.

  Her body was seriously altered. It had thickened into two…no, three thick coils. It looked as if the bones in her body had turned into pulp, and she was slowly extending and unflexing until her body was a long, thick, winding tube.

  Even as Claire watched, her terror rising, the monster that was no longer Sally began to move. It shifted with a heavy slithering motion, its body growing larger with each passing second until the coils of the body no longer fit onto the bed. A thick looping coil dropped to the floor with a heavy thud that sounded like a distant gunshot.

  All the while, Sally’s face was changing, too. Her nose and chin extended outward, elongating into a V-shaped snout that pushed her eyes—now wide, yellow slits—back to the sides of her face. The huge slit-like irises—as black as night—expanded to take in more light as a strange, golden glow shifted across her face. Instead of skin, Sally was now covered with small hexagonal scales that glimmered like tiny rainbows in the dim light.

  All the while, the creature…the beast that was or had been Sally…was staring directly into Claire’s eyes.

  Unblinking.

  Cold.

  Cruel.

  Reptilian.

  She’s trying to hypnotize me.

  That thought was oddly distant to Claire…like someone else had spoken the words to her. Her curiosity temporarily overcame her fear, and she tilted her head, listening.

  “How do you want it to end, Claire?” the reptile said, speaking with freakishly precise human enunciation.

  End what? Claire thought but didn’t say.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but it wasn’t necessary. The steady glow in the snake’s eyes indicated that it understood as clearly as if she had spoken.

  “I mean,” the snake replied, “that you have a choice to make.”

  Oh, I do?

  “Indeed, you do…a very important choice.”

  And that is…?

  Instead of answering, the snake raised its head and began swaying back and forth like a cobra reacting by the motion and music of a snake charmer. Its body continued to enlarge until the thick coils flopped heavily onto the floor on both sides of the bed.

  And then, its sides rippling like a stream of water, it rose until its head touched the guest room ceiling. In a subtle, sinuous motion, it shifted slowly from the bed onto the floor.

  “Will you willingly give me your soul in order to save him?”

  What do you mean?

  “Exactly what I said. I want you to give me your soul.”

  The snake’s eyes flashed with cold light that pulsated in time with Claire’s rapid heartbeat.

  “It’s quite simple,” the snake said. “Your beloved Samael—” When it hissed the “S” in his name, it sounded like cold water splashing on hot coals—“wants to regain his angelic nature, correct?”

  Claire felt oddly calm, facing the snake. Far from hypnotized, she found she was able to collect and focus her thoughts.

  “He didn’t tell you, but he can’t do it without a sacrifice. Otherwise, it would be entirely too easy,” the snake continued.

  If he asks forgiveness, he’ll get it…That’s how it works, she thought.

  The snake made a loud hissing sound that, Claire realized, was intended to be laughter.

  You don’t have any power over him or me…You’re not the one who decides.

  “That’s what you think.”

  If it’s possible for a snake to smile, the thing that had once been Claire’s roommate suddenly thrust its head forward and, hissing, smiled at Claire.

  “Didn’t he tell you?”

  Tell me what?

  “He should have been completely honest with you from the start…especially now that you’re married.”

  The tone of utter scorn in the snake’s voice chilled Claire.

  “He should have told you that he was grooming you.”

  Grooming me?

  “Yes. To be his replacement…the sacrifice he will have to make in order to make the transition.”

  Bullshit!

  Complete and total bullshit!

  Claire opened her mouth to shout f
or Samael, but she stopped when she realized that’s exactly what this thing wanted.

  It’s using me…as bait…to lure Samael here…playing on my fears…and my doubts.

  I have to face it down on my own…

  This is my temptation.

  Iron resolve filled her.

  If I can defeat this demon on my own…if I can expose it for what it is...maybe then I’ll be able to end this insanity…

  “You actually think you can defeat me? Your beloved Samael has already come to an agreement with us. You give your soul to me, and he’ll be free to do whatever he pleases.” Again, the long, drawn out hiss on the “S” in pleases.

  Claire suddenly thought of Eve in the Garden of Eden.

  She was framed, she thought…but not this time. She laughed softly to herself.

  “You have no idea of the forces coming down on you,” the snake said.

  As it spoke, the scaly body kept rippling…coiling and uncoiling in a smooth, flowing motion as it started to move forward…closer to Claire. Its triangular head was raised and sweeping from side to side, slowly…sinuously.

  Neither do you…I know you’re lying…and you won’t win.

  Without warning, the snake darted forward at blinding speed and looped its body around Claire once…twice…three times. She was soon engulfed by the dry, scaly folds that immediately began to squeeze her, pinning her arms to her sides.

  “Then die, bitch!”

  The snake’s body contracted, squeezing Claire so hard her breath burst out of her. Hot, salty pressure started pounding inside her head. Her eyes bulged until they felt like they would pop out of her head.

  I don’t care what you do to me…You’re not going to get me to give up Samael, and you’ll never get my soul, asshole!

  The snake made more hissing and chuffing sounds that might have been laughter.

  Tiny pinpoints of white light zigzagged across Claire’s vision. The pounding in her head was so strong it hurt.

  This is it…This is how I’m going to die.

  “Yes, you are going to die…and your soul will be mine unless you do what I command.”