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Authors: Rick Hautala

The_Demons_Wife_ARC (35 page)

BOOK: The_Demons_Wife_ARC
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I’m…so…sorry.

“Sorry for
what?” 

That this is
happening…that I have to…die like this…that I won’t ever get…to live…my
life…with Samael…

“You’re
pathetic, but if you think you can get me to pity you, you’re dreadfully
mistaken.”

Not as
pathetic as you.

The coils
tightened until a sudden huge explosion of white light flashed across her
vision with a huge concussion of air. Claire had the vague thought that
something in her brain had exploded. From a great distance, she heard a huge
crashing sound like wood and glass and bricks exploding inward. A sudden gust
of icy wind tore at the small part of her face that was still exposed from
inside the snake’s coils, and then—miraculously—the pressure that had seized
her began to relax.

Am I dead…or
dying…?

The utter
silence that followed made her think for a moment—a moment that seemed to last
forever—that she had left the world. An incredible feeling of relief and
acceptance that all of her worldly troubles were over filled her like the white
light that bathed her.

And then her
body took over, and she gasped raggedly for air. Her chest filled with burning
pain, and…faintly…she heard voices.

They were far
away…lost in the bright white light that had danced all around her. As the
light began to fade, she opened her eyes and saw a luminous figure hovering
above her. From the center of the blazing light that emanated from this being,
there shone two silver eyes as bright as the sun. It hurt to look at them
directly, but she couldn’t turn away.

What’s
happening to me?

The thought
rang like a bell inside her head.

Still unable
to see clearly, she felt something…someone grabbed her arm and started to pull
her. Claire found it impossible to take a deep breath. Every one of her ribs
seemed to have been shattered…like porcelain, but—somehow—she sucked in enough
air to fill her chest. It was like gulping fire.

But with the
fresh oxygen, her head began to clear, and she gradually focused more clearly
on what was happening around her.

The bedroom
was filled with a dazzling light.

And the
memories were coming back to her…

She had come
in here to check on Sally…to see if she was resting…

One of the
bedroom windows had exploded inward. Shards of glass and splintered wood
littered the floor everywhere, and standing amidst the ruin was a glowing white
figure. The light was dazzling.

Michael!

The angel
filled the room, towering so high his head brushed against the ceiling as he
faced the monstrous horror that writhed and coiled on the floor beside the
wide, queen-sized bed. A high hissing sound filled the room, mixing with the
deeper roar of the icy wind that blew in through the broken window. Pinpricks
of snow and ice swept across Claire’s face, refreshing her and drawing her even
more fully back to awareness.

Every joint,
every bone, every muscle in her body ached and burned and throbbed. Her head
pulsated in time with her rapid heartbeat, and her vision was spinning, but
that was mostly because of the snow and the glorious, radiant light that filled
the guest bedroom.

The snake—the
demon that had been Sally—coiled in upon itself and raised its head so it, too,
was pressed against the ceiling. Its blood-red forked tongue kept flickering in
and out of its mouth. Its eyes glared with a cold, piercing flare, but was it
anger…or fear?

Claire sensed
motion behind her and, turning, saw Samael in the doorway. He watched, amazed
to see what was going on in the room. His expression looked as awestruck as
Claire felt. When he caught her glance, he smiled, and for some reason, that
simple act was more reassuring that anything else. He came to her and knelt
down on the bed, gathering her into his arms.

“You can’t
defeat me,” the snake said, its voice high and shrill.

“I already
have,” said Michael as he brandished the sword he was holding. Beams of light
reflected off the blade like shining silver splinters, but Claire was convinced
the light was coming from inside the sword. Small tongues of silver flame
licked up and down the length of the blade.

The snake
hissed and spat in frustration, and then it made a sudden dart toward Claire
and Samael. But Michael lunged forward quickly and swung the sword around in a
whistling arc that sliced its neck. The snake coiled and uncoiled in frustrated
rage and pain. Its thrashing body made loud scuffing sounds on the carpet.

“Go back to
where you came from,” Michael said in a low, resonant voice. “And don’t come
back. It’s over.”

The snake’s
face split into a vicious grin as it weaved its head from side to side like it
was trying to hypnotize Michael. Thick, black blood ran down the demon’s sides.

“It’s never
over,” the snake said. “You know that as well as I do.”

“At least it’s
over for now,” Samael said.

The snake
turned its full attention onto Samael, who was standing at the foot of the bed.
It lifted its head as if to strike at him, but Michael took a quick, threatening
step closer. Hissing wickedly, the snake shrank back until its winding coils
were pressed against the furthest bedroom wall.

“You thought
you could keep me out by using your powers,” the snake said. Its unblinking
eyes were fixed on Samael. “But you made one simple miscalculation, like
everyone does…eventually.”

“Oh?” Samael
said. “And what was that?”

It struck
Claire as amazing as well as bizarre that Samael, the man—no, the demon she had
married—could speak so calmly and reasonably to a demonic creature like this as
if things like this happened every day.

“You made a
barrier you thought would keep things out, but you don’t know what you’ve
already walled inside.”

The snake’s
words sent a chill through Claire, but Samael’s grim smile didn’t falter. Glancing
at Michael, he raised his left hand and held it with his palm up. Michael took
hold of the flaming blade and handed the sword hilt-first to Samael. Samael’s
arm seemed to droop for a moment from its weight, but he braced his feet and
brought the blade around, gripping the hilt with both hands like it was a
baseball bat.

The snake’s
head continued swaying from side to side, but Claire was sure, now, that she
saw sudden panic in the creature’s unblinking eyes. Its scales changed color in
rapidly shifting waves as Samael raised the sword above his head and, with
three quick steps, approached the snake just as it struck.

Samael quickly
sidestepped the strike and then, planting both feet about shoulder-width apart,
swung the sword down in a single, swift blow. The blade whistled through the
air and caught the snake behind the head, cutting deeply and ending with a loud
thunk sound when it was stopped by the snake’s spine. The snake hissed as it
coiled in upon itself, making as small a ball as possible—which was still
considerable. Another furious hiss sprayed a clear liquid across the room. The
tiny amount that hit Claire’s forearm burned like a wasp sting.

Samael,
however, seemed not to notice as he placed his foot on the snake’s body and
yanked the blade free. Then he swung again…and again…and again until the
snake’s head was finally severed. It hit the floor and rolled over so the
pale-white underside of its throat was exposed. The flesh around the throat was
convulsing as thick, black blood spurted onto the floor. The snake’s eyes
rolled back and stared at the floor. They quickly lost their light.

An
unimaginable sense of relief swept through Claire as she watched the creature’s
body snap and twitch until it finally came to rest. Samael stepped back and,
wiping sweat from his face, smiled at Claire. She wanted to rush to him and
embrace him, but she was so wrung out she couldn’t get to her feet.

Samael handed
the sword back to Michael and then moved toward her.

“Are you all
right?” he asked. His voice was soft and had an odd resonance. Claire knew it
was because her hearing was distorted, not his voice. As the first wave of
shock began to subside, and she began to absorb what had just happened, the
darkness that had threatened her when she was trapped in the coils of the snake
came rushing back.

She looked up
at Samael and tried to speak.

She wanted to
let him know that every inch of her body throbbed with pain, and that she was
worried that whatever was happening still wasn’t over…that this had been only
the first wave of several more to come.

But the only
sound she made was a low, whimpering moan before she pitched forward, and the
darkness dragged her down.

 

~ * ~

 

She awoke to
the sound of voices and a vague sense that someone—

Maybe many
someones

—was touching
her.

The sensation
was so diffused she couldn’t be sure it even related to her. She tried to open
her eyes but wasn’t sure she remembered how to do something as simple as that.

Am I dead?
She wondered
again but—oddly—that thought didn’t frighten her.

“Am…I…dead?”

This time, she
was positive she spoke the words, but there was no answer, reassuring or
otherwise. The voices kept talking to each other, getting louder and seemingly
ignoring her. One of the voices had a sharp, rasping hiss that reminded her
of…something…

What?

She knew as
she came closer to consciousness, things would only get worse, so she listened
to the two voices as they spoke in weird, buzzing tones. She couldn’t make any
sense of anything, but she didn’t care. She actually felt comfortable and warm,
floating as though she had risen from the floor…or ground…or bed…or wherever
she was lying and drifting along on the warm current of air that was blowing
over and around her.

But she wasn’t
flying.

She was
relieved when she realized she was still very much in the real world. No one
could feel as rotten and confused as she did and be dead.

So she just
lay there, trusting that whoever or whatever was close to her had her best
interests at heart. No matter what was going to happen, she wanted to believe
that—for right now, at least—everything was fine because…

Samael saved
my life…There was a snake…An impossibly huge snake…And he killed it...

It was also
the last clear thought she had before the darkness sucked her back down, and
she was gone again.

 

~ * ~

 

“Feeling
better?”

When Claire’s
eyes snapped open, she found herself lying on her back, looking up into
Samael’s face. He was smiling reassuringly as he leaned over her. He had a cool
washcloth in one hand and was gently wiping her forehead and cheeks.

“Umm…I do
now.”

She managed a
weak smile. When she focused past him, she realized she was in his
bedroom…lying on the master bed. Behind him, sunlight poured in through the
windows, lighting the gauzy curtains with a nimbus of white light that hurt her
eyes. In the distance, she could see that the yard was covered with a fresh
coating of snow.

Snow?

It was so
bright and clean it reminded her of…

“Michael!”

The name was
out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Don’t worry.
He’s fine,” Samael said gently. “He’s…taking care of a few things.”

Claire caught
the hesitation in his voice but wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he meant by
it. She was confident she would find out…eventually.

As the sleep
fog cleared from her mind, hazy memories of what had happened returned.

Had it really
happened…had she imagined it…had she dreamed it?

“Last
night…Did we really—”

“Ut-ut,”
Samael whispered, placing his forefinger gently over her lips to silence her.

But Claire
wasn’t having any of that. She swatted his hand away and then hiked herself up
in the bed so she was leaning back on her elbows.

“No!” she
said, speaking so sharply it hurt her throat. “You have to tell me everything
that happened. I saw what I saw, and you can’t pretend I didn’t.”

“I’m not
pretending anything,” Samael said mildly. “I just don’t want you to get upset.”

“Upset? What
the Hell are you talking about? Of course I’m upset! Last night I saw my
roommate turn into a—”

Claire choked
on what she had been about to say and ended up coughing so hard pinpoints of
light skittered across her vision. Samael leaned in close to comfort her, but
she pushed him away and, still coughing, shifted around so she was sitting
cross-legged on the bed.

“You want a
glass of water?” Samael asked.

She shook her
head no and, covering her mouth with her fist, waited for the coughing to
subside.  Once she could catch her breath, she asked the most pressing question
on her mind.

BOOK: The_Demons_Wife_ARC
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