The_Demons_Wife_ARC (24 page)

A demon!

—coming up
behind her, wanting to catch her…and eat her.

She followed the
winding path, tension winding up steadily inside her; but then an idea struck
her. Reaching into her pocket, she took out her cell phone and hit the
speed-dial number for Samael’s phone. She’d tell him a thing or two if he
answered.

The phone rang
once…twice…and on the third ring, he picked up.

“Hello?” he
said, sounding his usual chipper self.

“Where in the
Hell are you hiding?” Claire said. She didn’t want to snap at him, but she
wasn’t able to stop herself.

“Hiding? What
are you talking about?”

Now there was
the hint of a frantic edge in his voice, and his question all but knocked her
off her feet.

“Where are
you?”

“I’m at the
office,” Samael said. “I’ve been calling you all day, but every time, your
phone goes straight to message.”

Her breath was
burning in her lungs, and the darkness closing in all around her made it
impossible to breathe deeply enough. It took her a moment to realize that the
heavy thudding sound she heard was her pulse in her ears, not the sound of
rapidly approaching footsteps.

“Hold on…Hold
on,” Claire said, fighting confusion. “You’re telling me you’re in Portland?”

 “I’ve been
here most of the day, cleaning up some loose ends, but now I’m home. Your
things got delivered, by the way. When are you coming home?”

Even through
her panic, Claire’s heart warmed to hear him say the word “home” to her.

“But we…you
and I drove up to Houlton, to visit my parents. We’ve been on the road all
day.”

Claire’s eyes
widened as she looked around at the darkening forest. The cold breeze blowing
through the trees froze her face. She looked up at the skeletal branches of
trees overhead. They created a vast network like a spider web that was winding
tighter and tighter around her.

“What are you
talking about?” Samael said, his voice clear and firm. “We talked about it, but
we never picked a date. I was surprised when you weren’t at your apartment this
morning to oversee the movers.”

“The
movers…but you told me I’d just get in the way.”

“I did? When?”

“This morning.
Early this morning.”

“That’s funny.
I tried calling—must’ve called twenty times or more, but your phone went
straight to message. We decided to settle for lunch, but—like I said, your
phone went straight to message every time I called. I thought maybe your
battery died or something.”

Claire was
stunned. The sense of unreality only got worse as she considered where she was.
She was suddenly fearful that none of this was happening…that she was imagining
it all, and she had fallen into a trap she might not be able to escape.

“You picked me
up at the house at, like, seven thirty.” She still didn’t believe she hadn’t
spent the whole day with him. “We drove up to Houlton. You met my mother and
father, and I showed you around the house—my bedroom, and then we went out to ‘The
Pond. ’”

“The Pond?”

“Yes! The
Pond! Where I went swimming and skating when I was a kid. And then, when my
back was turned, you were suddenly…gone.”

“Oh, no,”
Samael said. The fear in his voice cut through Claire like a surgical blade.

“What?…What is
it?”

The tremor in
her voice all but strangled her as fear bubbled up inside her.

“It’s
started,” Samael said simply.

Claire wasn’t
sure if she had heard him correctly.

“What
has?…What’s started?”

She staggered
to the side and grabbed on to a tree trunk for support.

“They’re
coming,” Samael said, his voice deep and hollow.

Claire didn’t
want to believe that she heard fear in his voice. She might be losing her mind,
but Samael was always confident and in control of any situation.

“What do you
mean? Who’s coming?”

“Listen to me,
Claire. Listen very carefully.”

He paused, and
the phone suddenly went so silent Claire was afraid her battery had died or the
call had dropped. She held her breath and waited for him to speak again. In the
short silence, she was ready to start screaming, but she managed to control
herself and say, “Samael? Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes.”

Her body
flooded with relief. Just hearing his voice made her feel much safer. Tears
welled up in her eyes when she thought how far away from each other they really
were and wondered who she had driven north with.

“All right,
then,” Samael said. “This is what you have to do. There’s a bus station in
downtown Houlton, right?”

“Yeah…Greyhound
or maybe Trailways. I used to take—”

“Get to town
as fast as you can and take the bus back here.”

“Should I—”

“No! Don’t go
back to your parents’ house. It will only place them in danger, too. They’re
coming after you in order to get to me.”

“Who is? What
are you talking about?”

“I’ll tell you
when I see you,” Samael said. “What you have to do now is get the Hell out of
there as fast as you can. Once you’re on the bus…don’t talk to anyone, got it?
Not even the driver.”

“Samael, I’m
scared.”

“Don’t be.
It’ll all be all right.”

She found a
measure of reassurance in his voice.

“Yes…but I
don’t see why—”

“Just do what
I say.” Samael’s voice was strong and encouraging, and that gave Claire another
boost of confidence. “Just stay calm. They won’t hurt you. They’re just messing
with you because they want to get to me.”

“Who…who’s doing
this?” Claire shouted into the phone.

Her voice
echoed from the darkening woods, and her panic rose even higher when she saw
how fast night was falling. It was at least three or four miles to the bus
station downtown. No matter how fast she got there, she had no idea when the
next bus would leave, heading south.

What if there
are no more busses going out today?

Where will I
go?

What will I
do?

And worst of
all was the thought that when she got there, what if this…this thing
masquerading as Samael had guessed that’s what she would do, and he was waiting
for her there.

What will I do
then?

“Save your
phone battery,” Samael said, “but call me as soon as you’re on the bus, okay?”

Claire grunted
and nodded. It felt like an iron band was steadily tightening around her chest.
Her pulse was racing fast, and in spite of the cold evening air, sweat stood
out on her forehead beneath her wool hat.

“Okay,” she
said breathlessly, “But please. Before I hang up. Tell me. Who’s doing this to
me…to us?

“Other
demons,” he said simply. “They don’t like what I’m doing.”

“What do you
mean?”

“They don’t
like that I’ve fallen in love with you…that I want to redeem myself.”

Chapter

11

Closing In

Later that night, several
things happened that Claire said could only have been miracles. Two weeks
later, when she finally told Samael about them when he was in jail, he said
that he agreed they were miracles because there was no other explanation. After
all, he more than anyone else—even Claire—believed in the supernatural. The
good thing is, these miracles were on the side of the angels.

But they
didn’t feel like miracles at the time.

As night
descended, Claire struck out through the woods in a different direction, one
that would not have taken her back to the house. She was less familiar with it,
but she had taken it enough times when she had gone directly from “The Pond” to
either Patty’s or Jennifer’s or Amber’s house for a cookout or sleepover.

But never in
the dark. Never in March. Even her winter coat, wool hat, gloves, scarf, jeans,
and L.L. Bean low-cut boots weren’t enough to keep her comfortably warm.

I could freeze
to death out here
,
she kept thinking, and:
I can’t believe this is really happening.

Her feet made
loud crunching sounds in the snow, and the thin, icy crust cut into her shins
whenever she lost her balance or stumbled in the dark. She didn’t know if the
oily feeling running down to her ankles was sweat or blood, and she couldn’t stop
now to check.

And she had to
keep it together as much as she could because she would never escape this
situation alive if she didn’t.

Knowing Samael
was only a phone call away gave her a measure of reassurance, but she began to
wonder why he couldn’t do something else…something more.

Aren’t demons
supposed to be able to fly?

Or, why can’t
he conjure up some spell and instantly transport me back to Portland?

Is he able to
do such things?

She had to
assume if he could, he would have, so whatever the case, she was on her own for
now.

Other thoughts
plagued her.

Who are they?

Why do they
want to get at Samael?

And what will
they do to me to get to him?

The sun had
long since dropped below the horizon, and the sky was as dark as smoke,
pressing down on her. Through the ragged breaks in the clouds and between the
leafless branches overhead, a few stars appeared, glinting in the darkness like
fireflies seen at a distance.

Claire
shivered and drew herself deeper into her coat. She had never felt this lost
and lonely in her life, even as a child. Being an adult only made it worse. She
constantly had to resist the urge to start running, telling herself that if she
hurried, accidents would happen. She wasn’t going to make things worse than
they already were.

And they were
pretty bad as it was.

She kept
wanting to call Samael, if only for the reassurance of hearing his voice, but
she didn’t want to run down her phone’s battery. She did pause and call her
parents, though. Her mother answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mom.”

It took a
great effort to control the tremor in her voice. She wasn’t sure how successful
she was.

“What’s the
matter, dear?” her mother said.

So much for
hiding my nervousness.

“Something’s
come up, and I—I’m not going to be able to come back to the house before we
head back to Portland.”

“Oh, dear. I
hope it isn’t anything serious,”

Oh, no. Not at
all, Claire thought ruefully, just some demons out to get me.

“Samael came
back alone and took off in the car. I was a little hurt he—and you—didn’t come
in to say goodbye.”

Claire could
hear her father, muttering in the background, words like “totally rude” and “so
full of himself.” All too easily, she could imagine what he and her mother were
thinking, but she drew up short when she realized anything they thought was not
nearly as irrational and—truth to tell—a lot worse that they could ever
imagine.

“No…It’s…nothing’s
happened. I—uh, I wanted to go for a longer walk than…uh, he did, so he went
back to get the car and…umm…picked me up downtown.”

“Uh-huh. I
see,” her mother said, making it obvious that she didn’t “see” at all. “If
you’d like your father to—”

“I’m fine,
Mom. I’m really sorry we couldn’t stay for supper, but we’ll be back soon, I
promise.”

She
wondered—as she had so often when she was a child—if her mother was fooled by
her lies and not letting on, or if she really was truly in the dark. Usually,
her father had been the one to trip her up when she lied or did something
wrong, but she always wondered how much her mother knew but didn’t say.

“Well, then…It
was a terrific surprise to see you. You’ll have to visit again soon and stay
longer.”

“Sure thing,
Mom.”

“I think your
young man seems very nice.”

“He liked you,
too, Mom. Both of you. Tell Dad buh-bye for me. I’ll be in touch.”

“Call when you
get to Portland.”

I will
, Claire
thought,
that’s if I get back to Portland.

A
bone-penetrating chill wrapped around her. All she needed now, she thought, was
to hear the fluttery hooting of an owl or the mournful wail of a coyote in the
distance to make this the perfect cliché of being lost in the woods.

I’m not lost…I
know exactly where I am.

Squaring her
shoulders, she pushed on into the darkness.

She had no
idea what kind of progress she was making. She felt like she was wandering in a
black void, and from time to time, she wondered if she was lost. Houlton wasn’t
much of a town, and the surrounding wilderness went on for hundreds of miles in
all directions. It would be easy for her to get turned around and head in the
wrong direction. She might never find her way out.

Of course, the
easy thing—and what she had been told repeatedly to do if she was ever lost in
the woods—was to stay put. Don’t move. If she was still lost when dawn came,
she could always trace her footprints in the snow back to “The Pond” and home.
She’d have a hell of a time explaining to her parents what had happened then,
but it sure beat dying alone in the woods.

She kept
wishing she had never quit smoking because, if she still smoked, she would have
a cigarette lighter in her pocket, and she could start a fire for warmth and as
a signal fire to let someone know where she was.

Unless that “someone”
was whoever or whatever had pretended to be Samael.

“I’m not gonna
make it to downtown if I stop walking,” she said, speaking out loud to bolster
her courage. She had to admit the truth. The longer she hiked in the
night-soaked forest, the further she went, the worse it would be if she decided
to backtrack.

With every
step, fear bordering on outright panic wound up inside her. The tiniest sounds
were magnified in the dark. The snap of a branch underfoot sounded like a
gunshot. The swishing sound her coat made as she walked, swinging her arms,
sounded like the hushed tread of someone creeping up behind her. Even the wind,
winding through the thin branches overhead, sounded like voices whispering in a
language she didn’t quite understand. And when she looked up at the sky, she didn’t
recognize the usual patterns of stars. There were new and strange
constellations, unrecognizable…as if she had been transported magically to
another hemisphere. 

“You’re gonna
be all right…You’re gonna be all right,” she kept whispering to herself.

She resisted
the temptation to call Samael again. Apparently there was nothing he could do
from Portland, and he didn’t have the means to get to her quickly.

What’s the use
of being a demon if you can’t fly?
She thought bitterly.

But she
recalled how Samael had told her that different demons had different abilities
and powers. So maybe he didn’t or couldn’t fly, and he didn’t know any other
demons he could trust who did.

Never in her
life had she felt so isolated…so afraid. This was worse than her amazement when
she realized for the first time she was sleeping with an actual demon.

Much worse.

As these and
other unsettling thoughts ran through her head, she kept walking…trudging
through the snow. It was much deeper under the trees, halfway up to her knees. 
Often she’d stumble and almost fall when she tripped over something—a rock…a
fallen tree branch…even her own feet.

She patted
herself on the back, though, congratulating herself for even attempting this.
When she was growing up in Houlton, she would never ever have dared to hike
from “The Pond” to downtown—alone or with friends—at night. She had heard—and
told—too many scary stories about things lurking in these woods, waiting to
pounce when you least expected.

Only now, she
knew all too well that there were things in the forest to fear. There was a
good chance the demon who had masqueraded as Samael might be chasing after her
in the darkness…coming for her.

Does he know
I’m heading to the bus station?

Will he be
waiting for me there?

Or will he
grab me and whisk me away before anyone else sees or can intervene?

She took
little consolation in what Samael had said—that a demon can’t destroy her
unless she’d already signed her soul away.

“But they sure
as Hell can make your life miserable,” she said out loud.

So on she
went, shivering and stumbling. Her tears froze on her face before she wiped
them away with the flats of her gloved hands. And all the while, she was
thinking that the woods and this night were never going to end. Her legs felt
increasingly leaden, and she staggered more and more, like she’d been drinking.
Whenever she stopped and leaned against a tree for support, her breath came out
in a silver mist that rapidly dissolved into the icy darkness.

“I can make
it,” she whispered. “I know I can.”

So on she
went…into the darkness…

~ * ~

Until
finally…amazingly…a glimmer of light shone through the trees.

At first,
Claire didn’t believe her own eyes. She wondered if this might be another trick
the demon who was after her was playing on her…like a will-o’-the-wisp. She
hadn’t crossed B Road—or any road—yet, and she knew she couldn’t have missed
it, even in the dark and snow.

But where am
I?

She made her
way toward the light, if only to see if it was an illusion or real. She wondered
how far away the light—and maybe B Road—was, and if she could walk that far,
much less all the way to the bus station. The light appeared to be shifting
away from her, no matter how slow or fast she walked toward it.

This has to be
a trick
,
she thought,
a demonic trick.

Her eyes kept
dancing back and forth as she looked around the dark woods, trying to get a fix
on what was ahead of her. She was tensed, poised and waiting for a shadow—or
shadows—to separate from the darkness and close in on her.

The forest
closed down around her like a dark, heavy blanket.

Every footstep
became increasingly labored, and the thought that she would die before she ever
saw civilization again filled her with a deep, gnawing fear that fueled her
efforts. She tried to block out any images of her corpse, rotting away in the
woods, being picked apart by crows and the turkey vultures who hovered over the
potato fields in the summer and fall. 

“Just…keep…moving,”
she said. She couldn’t help but think about the Jack London story, “To Build a
Fire,” which she had read in high school.

“Don’t go, but
if you do go, don’t go alone.”

Good advice,
but who could she trust to go with her?

Certainly not
the demon who’d been impersonating Samael all day.

Whoever…or
whatever was trying to deceive her was good. He had her fooled most of the day.
But now that she thought about it, throughout the drive north, he had been
acting uncharacteristically distant and curt. She had taken it as an indication
he’d been more nervous than he had let on about the prospect of meeting her
parents.

But he was a
demon…At least in her experience, demons didn’t get nervous.

She was filled
with a sudden, desperate need to hear Samael’s voice.

For the last
time?

Don’t think
it!...You’ll make it…You’ll get through this…

Iron cold
clenched her chest. Her hands were shaking as she peeled off her gloves and hit
the speed dial for Samael’s number.