The_Demons_Wife_ARC (31 page)

She’s dead
, was her
first thought upon seeing Sally.

Her roommate’s
skin looked translucently pale in the glowing light, her cheeks mottled by dark
spots that looked like she’d rubbed soot under her eyes. Darker lines that
looked like ink streaked her face and hands.

 A more
rational part of her mind told her that Sally couldn’t possibly be sitting up
straight like that if she was dead…not unless who-or-whatever had killed her
had propped her up.

Holding her
breath, Claire stared at her roomie, waiting…praying to see some sign of life.
Anything would do—a slight stirring of breath…a quick blink of the eye. So long
as she knew Sally was still alive.

“Sal?…”

No reaction.

Claire moved a
few steps closer, her hands poised defensively.

“Are you…all
right?”

Still nothing.

 “What’s going
on, Sal?” Claire felt like she was approaching a cobra, coiled and ready to
strike.

She jumped
when Sally slowly raised her head and looked directly at her. Her swollen eyes
were blank, empty pits. When she moved, her neck bones made faint crackling
sounds.

“What do you
want?” Sally asked. Her voice was cracked and dry, as if she hadn’t spoken for
days. She kept staring at Claire with a blank expression as if she didn’t
recognize her.

“I…I came to
see why you…why you didn’t make it today,” Claire said.

“Today?…What’s
today?” Sally asked. She rolled her head back, exposing the bloodshot whites as
she rapidly blinked her eyes a few times.

Claire shot a
look over at Samael, who was standing in the doorway.

“Call 911,”
she said, and then, turning back to Sally, “Are you okay?”

No answer
other than a lingering blank look.

“What happened
here?” Claire asked, struggling to keep down the frantic rush inside her. Still
getting no response, she said, “I think you need to go to the hospital.”

“The
hospital?…Today?” Sally said hollowly. Then she sighed and shook her head
slowly from side to side. The sound of the bones in her neck cracking got
louder. When she took a breath and exhaled, it sounded like hot, dry wind
blowing through the grass.

Claire went to
Sally and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands. She noticed her bloody
fingernails and the bruises on her wrists—like she’d been tied!

“They’re
coming for you, you know,” Sally said softly…tensely.  The slow susurration of
her voice made it sound like she was mumbling in her sleep.

Before Claire
could respond, Sally suddenly jumped as though she’d be hit by an electric
jolt. She jerked her hands out of Clair’s grasp and looked at Claire, her face
a mask of barely repressed terror. Her eyes cleared, and her face seemed
suddenly fuller…more lively.

“What’s that,
Sal?”

Claire’s voice
shook as a painful clenching gripped her gut. She thought she might know
exactly what Sally meant, but she wanted to believe she hadn’t heard her
correctly. She cast a quick glance at Samael, who was standing in the living
room doorway as if he didn’t dare enter the room.

“I saw
them…They’ve been here…” Sally said in a watery rasp.

“Who has?”
Claire asked even though she already knew the answer.

Whoever or
whatever was trying to stop Samael from abandoning evil was obviously trying to
get at Claire and, thus, Samael through Sally. Claire was furious that the
forces ranged against them would start by using an innocent bystander like Sally.
She didn’t deserve to get dragged into any of this, tied up and beaten to a
pulp.

Sally’s
eyelids were flickering rapidly as she looked at Claire. And then, without
warning, she threw her head back and started to laugh. It certainly wasn’t a
joyous laugh. It was low and rumbling, like the sound of distant thunder on a
hot summer afternoon.

Sally’s
laughter gradually built. It set Claire’s nerves on edge with its sinister
tone.

“Wha—what’s so
funny?” Claire finally asked, unable to bear the sound any longer and wishing
she would stop. 

“They did a
good job,” Sally said in a voice as low as her laughter.

“What? Who did
a good job?”

“They did…They
did a good job of imitating my roommate.”

With that, she
leaned forward and, gripping the flesh of Claire’s left cheek between her thumb
and forefinger, pinched and shook her so roughly it hurt. Claire yelped and
pulled away, her face stinging.

“I…I’m not
an…an imitation,” Claire said.

Her heart was
breaking, seeing her roommate like this. Sally had always been so strong…so
independent. To see her reduced to…to this was too much to take.

Claire turned
to Samael, who still hadn’t left the doorway,

“Did you call
the ambulance? We have to get her out of here. Now.”

Samael stared
at her, unblinking for a moment, deep in thought. Then, looking grim, he
nodded,

“Not to the
hospital, though,” he said.

“Are you
nuts?” Claire asked. “Look at her! She needs medical attention!”

“I don’t need
to go to the goddamned hospital,” Sally interrupted. Her voice was lighter now,
and she sounded perfectly rational. “I’m okay. It’s just…Now that they’re
gone…I can get away from them…for a little while, at least.”

Them! Claire
thought with a chill. She and Samael exchanged worried glances. She didn’t need
to ask who Sally meant by “them.”

“Sal,” Claire
said, turning back to her. “I’d like you to come with us—”

As she spoke,
she reached out and touched Sally on the shoulder. It was a gentle touch, but
it might as well have been a punch to the gut because of the way Sally reacted.
She let out an ear-piercing shriek and swatted Claire’s hand away with a
vicious blow that, Claire knew, would leave a bruise. Caught by surprise,
Claire fell back and scrambled out of Sally’s reach. She clenched her fists and
tensed, expecting Sally to attack her, but her roomie settled on the couch, an
utterly blank expression on her face.

“Jesus!”
Claire said.

“Language.
Please,” Samael said with a wry smile.

Claire noticed
that he hadn’t moved any closer. He would have been of no help if Sally had
gone nuts and attacked her. She looked at him, feeling empty inside.

“What are we
going to do?” she asked, not even trying to mask the desperation in her voice.

Samael
regarded her steadily, his no longer gold-flecked eyes wide as he shook his
head.

“We have to
get her to the hospital whether she wants to go or not,” Claire said.

Samael kept
shaking his head, and the longer he did, the grimmer his expression became.

“No,” he
finally said. “I don’t think we can do that.”

“What?”

“We can’t take
her to the hospital.”

Suddenly
furious, Claire walked over to him and, bunching up the front of his coat with
both fists, pulled him so close their noses almost touched. The heat of her
breath rebounded from his face. This close, his eyes looked like deep, dark
wells with no bottom.

“Why not? We
have to do something!”

Samael
couldn’t maintain eye contact for long, and he shifted his gaze away. Between
Sally’s condition and Samael’s detachment, Claire was suddenly enraged. She
took a deep breath, struggling for calm.

“We’re married
now,” she said, her voice low and level. “That means we help each other out.”

In the pause
she took to catch her breath, Samael said nothing to fill the void.

“I know you
don’t know Sally very well—and I know you don’t like her, but she’s the closest
friend I have, and there’s— something’s wrong with her. I’m not—I repeat, I am
not going to abandon her.”

 “I didn’t say
that,” Samael said, surprising her with such a mild tone in his voice. He
raised his hands and pried Claire’s hands from the front of his coat.

“What did you
say?”

“I said we
can’t take her to the hospital.”

“But look at
her.”

With a flick
of her head, Claire indicated Sally, who was still seated on the couch, staring
off into space and looking like she had no idea they were there discussing what
to do with her. Dried blood crusted her nose and the corners of her mouth.

“She needs to
see someone.”

“But not at
the hospital,” Samael said evenly. “Whoever did this to her—and I have a pretty
good idea who—could easily gain access to her there and…finish the job.”

“What do you
mean, ‘finish the job’?”

“Well…it’s
obvious whatever happened to her—whatever she saw—snapped her mind. You don’t
think, if they wanted her eliminated, they couldn’t get to her at the
hospital?”

“So what do we
do?” Claire looked around. “We can’t leave her here. Not like this. And we
certainly can’t stay—”

She stopped
herself and stared at Samael.

“Hold on. Are
you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Uh-huh. We
take her back to my place.”

“But—” Claire
glanced over her shoulder at Sally, who remained catatonic on the edge of the
couch. Lowering her voice, she said, “—if they come for us, she isn’t going to
be any safer with us, is she?”

“She’ll be
safer with Michael and me to protect her. I can guarantee that.”

Claire looked
back and forth between Samael and Sally. She had no idea what to say or do. It
hurt that her love for Samael had caused so much collateral damage to innocent
people in her life…her parents, Sally, Marty…When would it end?

But Samael and
I…We’re in this together…right to the end…whatever that might be…

“We can take
care of her,” he said mildly. “Trust me.”

“I trust you,
but…” She punched him on the arm. “Not like I have a choice, right?”

Samael
chuckled and kissed her hand where Sally had slapped it.  Her skin burned as if
she’d been stung by a bee, and that thought brought back the horrifying image
of the wasp demon.

“Okay, then,”
Claire finally said. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face Sally.

“Sal…Hon’,”
she said as she moved cautiously toward her and bent down so their faces were
level with each other. Claire felt like she was standing next to a keg of
gunpowder, unsure if the fuse had been lit or not.

Sally shifted
her gaze and looked at her. An unnaturally wide smile spread across Sally’s
face, cracking her swollen lips like she was wearing a mask. Her skin,
especially in the orange glow of all these candles, looked livid. Her eyes were
vacant.

“Sal, can you
hear me?”

Only the
slightest of nods indicated that she had.

“I want you to
do something for me, Sal. Will you do that?”

“Do what?”
Sally asked after a long pause.

“I want you to
do me a favor. Do you understand?”

“A…favor?”

Claire noted
that she was echoing back whatever she said as if that was all the room she had
left in her mind.

“I want you to
come with us,” Claire said.

“Come with
you.”

“That’s
right.”

It took great
effort for Claire to keep the rising edge of nervousness out of her voice. She
was poised…tensed…ready—she thought—to react if Sally suddenly lashed out at
her again.

“Where can we
go?” Sally asked, focusing a bit more clearly on her.

“I want you to
come with me to—”

“They’re
everywhere, you know.” Sally took a deep breath that sounded like a torrent of
wind whistling through a small opening. “We can never get away. Not from them.
They’ll find me. No matter where we go.”

“They’re not
looking for you, Sal.” Claire said. She was painfully aware of the tremor in
her voice, but she couldn’t prevent it.

“They’ll find
me, no matter where I go. You can’t help me.”

Claire’s
throat choked off, and she found it all but impossible to catch her breath.

“You’ll be
safe if you come with us. Samael and I will take care of you.”

Claire slowly
reached out and placed her hand on Sally’s shoulder. She felt her flinch, but
this time—at least not yet—she didn’t lash out. Claire increased the pressure
on her friend’s shoulder and then, with her other hand, took hold of Sally’s
elbow and, as gently as possible, guided her until she was standing. It was
like handling a fragile crystal vase.

“I want to get
your coat and help you put it on,” Claire said, her voice as soft and cooing as
a dove’s. “And I want you to come downstairs with me and Samael. His car’s
parked a ways down the street.”

Sally regarded
her with the most pathetic expression—a haunting mixture of terror and
confusion and mistrust.