The_Demons_Wife_ARC (39 page)

Detective
Trudeau glanced over at her and said, “That’s not for you or me to decide. I
just do the investigation.”

“I was with
him all last night and all day today. There’s no way he could have gone to
Sal—to my roommate’s apartment and done what she says he did.”

“Like I said,
Mrs. Pierson. That’s not for me to decide.”

They had
reached the top of a flight of stairs, but before they started down, Detective
Trudeau said, “Maybe you can tell me what happened last night.”

 “Last night?”

The image of
the demon snake…and the Hellmouth and blue-faced demon outside the living room
window…and the flock of bats that all had Samael’s face arose in her mind, but
she resolutely pushed them aside and focused on the business at hand.

“Do you really
want the details?” she asked. A smile tightened the corners of her mouth. “It
was, after all, our wedding night.”

Detective
Trudeau eyed her for a few seconds and then started down the stairs. Claire
followed behind him, eager to see Samael again.

~ * ~

Samael was
wearing a bright orange prison jumpsuit as he sat in the prison cell, his head
bowed. He was leaning forward with his hands clasped together tightly between
his knees.

At least he
isn’t handcuffed, Claire thought when she saw him. She smiled at him and said,
“Hey.”

He didn’t
register the least little surprise, and he looked up at her slowly as if he had
been expecting her all along. Any expression on his face—whatever it might have
been—instantly faded away. He stood up and walked over to the barred door.
Claire leaned forward so her face was pressed between the iron bars, and they
kissed, long and passionately.

“Jesus,”
Samael said softly once they separated.

Claire
flinched and said. “I thought you were uncomfortable saying names like that.”

“I’m getting
better at it,” Samael replied, a roguish twinkle in his dark eyes. “It doesn’t
hurt as much as it used to. So…” He stood back, admiring her. “How are you
doing?”

“I’m doing
okay…” She took a breath. “I’m also lying. Oh, Samael! I’m really wor—”

“Ut-ut. Not
now,” he said.

She knew it
wouldn’t do either of them any good to let him see how anxious she was, but the
simple act of touching his hands, not to mention kissing him through the bars,
both comforted her and made her want to burst into tears.

“So what’s
going on? Have they charged you with…?” She couldn’t finish her question and
turned away as her eyes began to sting with tears.

“Of course
they believed Sally. I’ve been charged with aggravated assault and criminal
restraint…but—Hey!” He reached out with one hand between the bars and gripped
her shoulder tightly. “You have to be strong for me. Got it?”

“I am…It’s
just…It’s not fair. You and I both know you didn’t do it. You couldn’t have
done what she says.”

Samael nodded
while maintaining steady eye contact with her.

“We’ll have to
prove it,” he said with a slow, measured tone of voice. “Either that, or I’ll
take the punishment that’s coming.”

“You can’t!
You didn’t do anything!”

“But there’s
no way I can prove I’m innocent…not without revealing…you know.”

“That you’re a
de—”

“Don’t say it
out loud,” he said, and his grip on her shoulder tightened painfully. He
lowered his gaze until he was staring down at the cracked, linoleum floor. “I
mean—all things considered, if I got punished for everything I’ve ever done wrong,
your great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren wouldn’t see me get out of
prison.”

“I don’t think
you’d want to be in prison that long,” Claire said wryly.

He sniffed
with laughter and shook his head slowly from side to side at the thought.

“Actually,
it’s not funny, Samael,” Claire paused, bracing herself before saying, “So what
are we going to do?”

“We’ll have to
see what happens.”

“You mean
you’ll just wait around for…whatever?”

“At this
point, it’s Sally’s word against mine. No witnesses, so the police will
investigate, but my double’s fingerprints are all over the apartment from when
I was there.”

Samael kept
shaking his head and staring down at the floor as he spoke, then he raised his
head and looked directly at her, his dark eyes shimmering. “Barring a miracle,
they have enough to put me away for up to ten years, according to my lawyer.”

“Ten years?
Are you—?”

Samael nodded.

“Tony says he
can probably plea bargain down to five years.”

“Ten years…or
maybe five,” Claire said, trying to grasp just how long that would be—

Half of
eternity.

“It’ll be
tough, I know.” Samael gritted his teeth. “It sounds like a long time to you.”

“A day is too
long away from you.”

Samael nodded
and said, “I keep forgetting how—”

He didn’t
finish, but he didn’t have to. Claire knew he meant to say: How short your
human lifespan is.

And it was
true.

Even if she
lived with him as his wife to a ripe old age of, say ninety, it would be no
more than a blink of the eye for someone who was practically immortal. But in
the grand scheme of things, that small amount of time was all she would ever
have with him, so every day meant everything to her. She wasn’t about to let
even the tiniest bit of it slip.

“You’re going
to fight it, right?” she asked.

“Of course.
Like I said, I’m going to plead innocent, but if I get convicted, we can argue
for the least possible time in jail. It’s not like I have a criminal record or
anything.”

“That they
know of,” Claire whispered, and they both chuckled at that.

They were
still touching through the bars, and she tightened her grip on the sleeves of
his orange jumpsuit and shook him as hard as she could. “We’re not going to let
them get away with this.”

Samael cocked
his head to one side as though he was listening to something far off…something
she couldn’t hear.

“Well…? Are
we…?”

“There’s…” He
took a quick breath and held it. Then he let it go. “I’m not entirely sure I
can control any of this. There are forces at work here that even I don’t fully
understand.”

“But you’re
totally innocent!”

“Yes!
Absolutely! I’m not lying to you. But there’s a lot more I’m being held
accountable for by…others.”

“Who are they?
Who’s holding you accountable?”

Samael’s only
reply was a sad shake of the head as he stared into her eyes so intently she
was positive he was reading her mind.

“You keep
saying there are things I won’t understand…that it’s all too complicated. Well,
seriously. How stupid do you think I am?” She was speaking so fast, the words
pouring out of her, she became breathless. “I’m your wife, Goddamn it! You have
to tell me everything that’s going on!”

Samael
regarded her sympathetically, and in a low, gentle voice, said, “I’ve told you
everything I know.”

“Everything
you want to, you mean.”

“Everything I
can, Claire. Some things are beyond words. I’m not trying to duck your
question, love. But I really can’t explain it all.”

“Could you
use…you know…”

“Magic?”
Samael scowled. “Of course I could…but I won’t.”

“Why not? If
it means—”

“Because if I
do—if I use it, I’ll…I could slip back into my old ways. Once I gave that all
up, I— No.” He shook his head. “I can’t. So—please. Don’t ask me to.”

Claire wanted
to say something—to insist that he was wrong…that they could still fight this one
way or another, but she couldn’t find the words. All she could do was stare at
him and think that everything she had hoped and prayed for was slipping away
inexorably…that it had already slipped away.

The life she
had hoped to have with Samael was already dead and gone.

But only now
was she noticing that sad, simple fact. 

“So…so what do
you need me to do?” she finally asked, her voice husky with emotion.

Tears filled
Samael’s eyes, and she could see that he really was one hundred percent honest
and sincere when he said falling in love with her had changed him and made him
want to repent. She didn’t understand why, but it was a fact.

“Just keep
loving me, Claire. Don’t leave me.”

“Loving you is
the easy part,” Claire said. She leaned closer and lowered her voice in case
Trudeau or someone was monitoring their conversation. “But you still have your
powers…your supernatural powers, right?”

Samael’s lack
of a reaction unnerved her, and they stared at each other for a long time
without speaking until the answer occurred to her.

Days, months,
and years later, Claire was never sure if it was her own thought or a thought
Samael planted inside her head through the power of suggestion or whatever.
Maybe he had even spoken it out loud, but finally, she knew or at least had an
inkling of what the answer was. 

He had given
up some…maybe all of his supernatural powers when he decided to repent.

Is that what’s
happening now?

Is he becoming
mortal…like me?

When—not
if…when he got out of prison, would he have as short a lifespan as any normal
person?

“Will you stay
with me?” he asked, looking desperate. His dark eyes gleamed.

“You don’t
have to ask me that. You know I will.” Raw emotion twisted her voice, and a
burning sensation took hold of her throat. It was difficult for her to continue
without breaking down, but somehow she maintained control. “I don’t care how
long it takes. Even if you go to prison for something you didn’t do, I’ll be
faithful to you and wait for you no matter what…even if you have to go to Hell.”

Samael beamed
a smile at her, but then his expression drooped, and he backed away, extending
his arms to display his orange prison jumpsuit.

“I’m already
in Hell,” he said softly, “because I’m not out there with you.”

~ * ~

The next few
weeks and months certainly were a living Hell for Claire, mostly because she
felt totally insignificant and helpless as the wheels of justice—or injustice,
as she increasingly came to regard the legal system—ground slowly onward.

There were so
many times she wanted to call Sally or go over to the apartment and visit her,
but Tony, Samael’s lawyer, said it would be illegal for her to have any contact
with her husband’s accuser. The court might construe that as witness tampering
or an attempt to threaten or intimidate the plaintiff.

As it turned
out, Michael returned to the house the day after Samael was taken off to jail.
Over the next few weeks and months, he came and went seemingly as he pleased.
Claire knew enough not to ask him where he was going or what he was up to, but
she sensed important things were astir…major issues were being decided. Michael
volunteered little to no information.

His simple
presence was an amazing emotional support for Claire, giving her comfort and
confidence that she could cope with anything that came her way. Still, even
with the support of an actual angel and Samael’s lawyer, whose origin—demonic
or angelic—Claire never could determine, Samael was found guilty on all counts.
Because of Claire’s earnest testimony in Samael’s defense, and because Sally’s
testimony was inconsistent to the point of irrational, almost like she was
relating a bad dream, and because of the smooth sophistry of Samael’s lawyer’s
skill, Samael received the minimum sentence.

With time off
for good behavior, he’d be out in less than five years.

That was still
too long as far as Claire was concerned. She hated being separated from him for
even an hour.

Immediately
after the trial, Samael was sent to the state prison in Warren. His lawyer, of
course, planned to appeal because Sally’s testimony had been so erratic and
contradictory, but Claire doubted it would do any good.

Less than five
years still seemed like half an eternity to her.

Every day did.

One thing that
bothered Claire was she never heard from Sally again, even though she called
her several times after the trial. Finally, after three months, she gave up,
resigned to the fact that she had lost her best friend.

Over the first
few months while Samael was in jail, Claire kept insisting to him that she
should sell the house and either buy or rent a place closer to the state prison
so she could visit him as long as possible every day. Samael told her not to.
He explained—obliquely, as he often did—that there were aspects of the house
that would be impossible to hide from or explain to any prospective buyers.
Michael confirmed Samael’s decision, but when she asked him why, he—like
Samael—told her not to worry about it. She was irritated at being given another
“It’s too complicated for you to understand” explanation, but she still
secretly held out the hope that Samael and Michael would use their supernatural
powers to help him escape.