The_Demons_Wife_ARC (29 page)

She floated
back to consciousness slowly…begrudgingly

…hating to leave her warm, safe
hiding place.

“Mmnn,” she
said, licking her lips and tasting something sour in her mouth.

“It’s late,”
Samael said. “Almost midnight.”

“What?”

“I don’t blame
you for falling asleep,” Samael said mildly. “You had a Hell of a day, and
Michael and I had a lot to catch up on.”

“I can
imagine,” Claire said, thinking vaguely that the two of them had probably known
each other for millennia. She wanted to ask him more about Michael, but she
sensed that Samael wanted to keep their discussion private.

Which was just
as well.

The more she
knew, the more she would worry. And in a way, she also knew that much of it was
beyond human understanding.

“How about we
go to bed?”

She was
feeling none too steady on her feet, so Samael helped her keep her balance. She
let him take her by the arm and guide her up the stairs to the bedroom. Without
bothering to undress, she collapsed face-first onto the bed and was out like a
light within seconds.

~ * ~

It was still
dark when Claire awoke with a start and realized Samael’s tail was wrapped around
her protectively. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, she was not
surprised to find him looking back at her. The lamp on the bedside table was
on, and he had the most gorgeous smile, but his eyes bothered her. They glinted
like chips of black ice, the gold flecks barely visible. She couldn’t help but
wonder if it was the lighting in the bedroom or if his eyes were…changing, for
some reason.

“Hey there,”
she said sleepily.

“Hey there,
yourself.”

His tail
tightened around her, and she considered getting something started to pleasure
both herself and him, but it somehow didn’t seem appropriate…not now, anyway,
considering everything that had gone on over the last twenty-four or so hours.

Plus, there
was an angel in the house.

“How’d you
sleep?” she asked, only to make conversation. She snuggled up closer to him,
relishing his warmth.

“All right, I
guess,” Samael replied. “Well enough. How about you?”

“Like a rock.”

He released
his tail and gently played the tip of it over the curves of her body, finally
burrowing it in between her legs.

“Are you sure
it’s okay?” she asked.

“Damn! It’s
more than okay.”

Without any
more urging, Claire began to run her hand up and down the length of the shaft.
She shifted her other hand to his chest and started running it across the
ridges of his stomach muscles. It felt as hard and flat as an old-fashioned
washboard.

“Let me make
you feel good,” he whispered as she shifted onto her side and then lay on her
back. She slipped off her jeans and panties and kicked them to the foot of the
bed. Samael’s tail seemed to take on a life of its own, darting forward like a
striking snake and plunging into her without warning.

Claire bucked
on the bed and let out a surprised shriek, but then she collapsed back onto the
mattress and lost all sense of who was doing what to whom. All she knew was
that—once again…as always—Samael was taking her to new levels of physical and
emotional pleasure.

Maybe an hour
later, as the sky lightened with a predawn glow, after she was absolutely
satiated, she collapsed onto the bed. Her head nestled in the well of his
armpit like a bird’s egg in a nest. An oily sheen of sweat covered her skin,
and she was breathing in slow, irregular breaths as mild aftershocks rippled
through her.

“Happy?”
Samael asked.

He was lying
on his side, his head propped up on his left hand as he smiled down at her. His
right hand was sliding up and down her sides, pausing with every upward stroke
to caress her breasts. Every now and then, he’d lean forward and nuzzle his
face into the fiery cascade of her hair. 

“Umm…Yes,” she
said, more gasp than words.

Samael
chuckled softly.

“What?” she
said, knowing even as she asked that he wouldn’t tell her anything he didn’t
want her to know.

“Oh, nothing.”

“It’s not
nothing,” she said. But after spending time with him, she knew Samael didn’t
yield his secrets easily.

 He shifted
around and raised himself so he was arched over her, his hands planted onto the
mattress on both sides, trapping her where she lay.

“Seriously,
what?” she asked again, her voice rising. She felt an element of danger in his
position. He was panting, his breath warm and moist on her face.

She looked up
at him. His head and shoulders, framed by the blank gauzy gray of the bedroom
ceiling, looked immense…like a statue, about to come crashing down on top of
her.

Samael smiled
as he gazed down at her, his eyes glowing unnaturally.

Even in this
light, the gold flecks weren’t as apparent. She wondered if she should mention
it to him—ask him what was going on—but decided not to. She could still see
nothing but love reflected in his eyes, darkening as they were.

“I wanted to
ask you something,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“I was going
to ask if you wanted to get married today.”

Claire was
taken aback, and she wondered if she had heard him correctly. Her mouth dropped
open, and Samael chuckled as he put a finger on her chin and to close it.

“Wha—what did
you say?”

“I asked if
you wanted to get married today. It’s a simple enough question.”

His smile lit
up the bedroom, and hearing him ask twice finally convinced her that she hadn’t
imagined it the first time.

“Married…”

“Not right
away. We can take our time. Take showers and have something to eat,” Samael
went on. “But I figured since Michael’s here, he can stand in as my best man.
And you can ask your roommate…Or someone else, if you want. But—yes. I think we
should do it. Today. This morning…or afternoon at the latest. I mean, why not?”

“Why not?”
Claire echoed, and then she snorted.  “You make it all sound so romantic ‘Why
not?’” Sliding one hand out from under him, she swatted him on the shoulder.
“Why not say ‘because I love you madly, and I want to marry you?’ God. You can
make anything sound like a…like a business transaction.”

“I don’t mean
to.” He actually looked chastised. “I’m new at this, you know, but I do know
that I want you by my side. How’s that?”

Samael’s face lit
up with the most amazing smile, his gold-flecked eyes gleaming. Then he slowly
lowered his head until their lips were less than an inch apart. His breath was
hot on her face, and she detected a not-unpleasant hint of fruitwood smoke when
she inhaled.

“Because I do
love you,” he said. “And I’m willing to risk everything…and I mean
everything—even my own existence—to prove how much I love you.”

As much as she
tried to stop them, now tears did fill Claire’s eyes. She wondered why, ever
since she had first met Samael, she had been crying so much more. She had
always considered herself a fairly tough woman. Not unemotional—but she
certainly thought she had her emotions under control.

But not
anymore…Not with this guy…

“I love you
with all my heart,” she said, her voice hitching as tears streamed down both
sides of her face. “And I want you always. Don’t ever leave me, Samael.”

“Trust me. I
won’t.”

She shifted
around so she could reach up and embrace him, and as she drew him down on top
of her, his weight pressed her into the mattress so hard it was difficult to
breathe deeply.

But it doesn’t
matter…Let me die right here…

This was the
moment…the moment she had dreamt about and wished for all her life and, as she
grew older, began to think might never actually come. But here it was. She now
knew, beyond any and all doubt, that this man—no, not a man. A demon truly
loved her…and she loved him.

Although she
hadn’t answered him directly—not yet, anyway—she knew that he already knew her
answer. They kissed, long and hard, his double-tipped tongue slipping into her
mouth like a living thing and whisking around, sending sparkling thrills all
through her body. When they finally broke off the kiss, she was still gazing at
him. Tears still clouded her sight, but she took a tiny sip of a breath and
said, “Yes…Yes…Yes. Let’s get married today.  As soon as we can.”

Samael’s mouth
split into a wide grin that exposed his wide, flat teeth. No matter what he
said or did, he still had a dangerous edge to him, but she figured now that she
would simply have to get used to it.

Just part of
his charm, I guess…

“Fantastic!”
he shouted as he pushed himself up and off the bed. He jumped up and down a few
times, looking like a kid on Christmas morning, and then he did a little
shuffling dance step as he turned and started for the bathroom. Claire couldn’t
help but laugh, seeing his tail sketch wild figure eights in the air. Before he
closed the door, he shouted joyously, “Married! I’m actually getting married!
Who’d a ‘thunk it!”

What a piece
of work he is
,
she thought.

For the first
time in…she couldn’t remember when…she smiled so hard her cheeks ached.

Chapter

13

To Have and to
Hold

The next couple of hours passed
by in a blur.

It annoyed
Claire that she hadn’t had time to plan…well, pretty much anything.

Even when she
called Sally to ask her to be her bridesmaid, Sally was at work and said she
couldn’t just up and leave for the day. It took quite a bit to convince her.
Claire insisted, time and again, that she could meet her back at the apartment
and help her get ready. Finally, Sally said that wasn’t necessary and promised
she’d meet them at City Hall at eleven o’clock.

Claire had her
doubts, but she had no Plan B.

That barely
gave her time to pick out a dress, buy some flowers, fix her hair, and put on
her makeup. It didn’t seem fair that all Samael had to do after he showered was
blow-dry his hair and put on one of the scores of expensive suits he had
hanging in his closet. Claire’s clothing options were limited because she
didn’t have any dresses she thought were acceptable for her wedding day, rushed
though it was. She certainly didn’t have time to go buy something new.

After
rummaging around in her closet for over an hour, pulling out and trying on
dress after dress, she was about to tell Samael that she wanted to postpone
getting married at least a day to give herself time to plan. She hadn’t even
called her parents to tell them yet and, as it turned out, her parents hadn’t
met Samael…at least not the real Samael.

“You about
ready?” Samael called from somewhere downstairs when Claire was in the
bathroom, putting on her makeup.

“Can you give
me…I dunno…maybe a week or two?”

She frowned at
her reflection in the mirror. She had always imagined she’d wear a white gown
with a train and veil to her wedding, not a cream-colored sweater dress and
high-heeled suede boots. In a gesture to Samael, she left her hair loose, the
way he liked it.

A wave of
tangled emotion swept through her—a curious mixture of sadness and
frustration…of nervousness and indescribable joy. She wished she had someone—a
closer-than-close friend she could talk to about it, but in truth, she didn’t
have many—any?—close friends.

Of course, she
felt close to Samael. She loved him and wanted to spend the rest of her life—

My mortal life
.

—with him. And
she wanted to do anything and everything she could to help him regain his
angelic nature. But that presented situations and problems she couldn’t begin
to comprehend much less deal with right now.

“What the Hell
am I doing?” she asked her reflection as she leaned close enough to the mirror
to fog the glass with her breath. She stared into her own eyes, wondering,
And
who the Hell are you
?

She jumped
when footsteps sounded on the stairs, and she forced herself to smile as she
turned to face the bathroom door. She was mildly surprised when she saw
Michael, not Samael, in the doorway. He was wearing a white suit. His shirt and
tie—even his shoes, were white, but nothing was whiter than his shoulder-length
hair. The only color—if you can call black a color—were the silver sunglasses
perched on the top of his head. His silver eyes were dazzling, and Claire
realized he couldn’t go out in public and let everyone see his eyes.

“Have you got
a minute?” Michael asked.

His voice was
amazingly calm and soothing; it cut through the emotions tangled up inside her.

“Yeah…Sure …
What’s up?”

“I would like
to tell you that you are, in all likelihood, not in any danger, and that I appreciate
everything you are doing—the effort you’re putting out to help Samael. I admire
the love you have for him. It’s more important than, I think, even Samael
realizes.”

Claire had no
idea what to say to that.

What can you
possibly say to an angel who, essentially, is giving you his blessing to marry
a demon?

Too weird!

“I’ve known
Samael for…a very long time.”

How long?
Claire wanted to ask but didn’t. Something told her that even “time” for beings
like Samael and Michael wasn’t the same as it was for people…mortals like her.

“And in all
that time, I have yearned and prayed for him to renounce his evil ways.”

“How…how evil
is…or was he?”

The corners of
Michael’s mouth twitched into a tight smile as he shook his head.

“That’s not
the point,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Claire
said, flummoxed for a moment. “So what is the point?”

She didn’t
like that she let her impatience show, but heavenly being or not, he had to
understand that she was under a lot of stress here, getting ready to get
married.

“The point is
simple.” Michael’s smile widened, and Claire could feel the peace and warmth
radiating from him. “I am happy for you and him, and I hope this marriage is a
blessing to you both.”

“Thank you,”
Claire said with an involuntary bow.

How -DO you
talk to an angel?…What are the rules?

She had to
avert her gaze because he shone with a light that wasn’t just the reflection of
the fluorescent light on his clothes and hair. The glow was coming from inside
him—a pulsating radiance that filled her with a deep, indescribable peace.

“I realize you
have a lot to do to prepare,” Michael said, “so I’ll leave you alone for now.”
He turned to leave but then stopped and, looking back at Claire, extended his
right hand, palm-out to her, and said, “Blessings unto you,” and then he was
gone.

He didn’t walk
out and close the door behind him. He was…gone.

A feeling of
serenity—and a new resolve—filled her as she turned back to the mirror to
finish with her makeup. Her eyes sparkled, and her long, red curls billowed
around her face and flowed down her back like a fire-fall.

Not bad,
she thought.
Who
really needs a fancy white dress, anyway?

 She gave
herself one final, satisfied look in the large mirror in the bedroom, and then
went downstairs to join Samael and Michael, who were waiting for her in the
sunroom. They had been talking about something quite intensely, but they
stopped abruptly when she entered the room.

“Amazing…absolutely
amazing,” Samael said, his voice tinged with awe as he got up from his chair,
walked over to Claire, and gave her a hug. He kissed her on the mouth, but only
for a few seconds. She broke it off, feeling funny, making out in front of an
angel. He stepped back and, raising his left arm, glanced at his wristwatch.

“We ought to
get going,” he said.

Claire was
suddenly dizzy with anticipation. As she walked out of the house between Samael
and Michael, she felt like her feet were hovering a few inches above the
ground. Her head felt like a helium balloon tethered to a string, bouncing in
the air.

Samael opened
the car door for her and waited until she was settled before closing it. As he
walked around the front of the car to get to the driver’s side, he stopped and
looked at her through the windshield. His smile gleamed in the sun, but still,
his eyes looked strangely dark. He brought both of his hands up to his mouth
and sent her a huge kiss.

Claire laughed
and bounced in her seat like a little child, positive she had never been
happier in her life.

Michael got
into the back seat behind her, and then Samael got into the car and started it
up. As they pulled away, the tires chirping on the asphalt, Claire looked
longingly out the side window as the house and then the yard slowly slipped
past her. It suddenly hit her—This is real! She was about to marry a demon and
live in a house suitable for a princess…with servants and everything.

What am I
doing?
She thought and then said out loud, “What am I doing?”

When Samael
said, “Huh?” instead of saying something like, Oh, nothing, she repeated herself.

“What am I
doing?”

Samael glanced
at her before pulling out of the driveway onto the road. She looked at him
and—as always—was entranced by the contours of his gorgeous face. He stepped on
the gas, and the car purred with smooth, quiet power. Once they were underway,
he answered her.

“I’ll tell you
what you’re doing,” he said with a big grin. “You’re doing the best thing
you’ve ever done in your life.”

She wasn’t
sure, but she thought she heard Michael in the back seat whisper, “In more ways
than one.”

~ * ~

The scene at
City Hall was about as romantic as a dentist’s office. A crowd of people, most
of them in jeans and flannels, were waiting to register their cars, renew their
licenses, get dump permits, and other mundane tasks. Claire felt conspicuous,
carrying the small bouquet they had picked up along the way at Skilling’s
Greenhouse.

People
couldn’t help but gawk at her, but more people stared at Michael, who presented
quite an image, dressed as he was in white from head to foot and wearing silver
sunglasses. Claire chuckled to herself, wondering what anyone there would have
said or done if they had known the truth.

After filling
out the necessary paperwork, which didn’t take as long as Claire had expected
it to, she was growing increasingly irritated because Sally still hadn’t shown
up. She, Samael, and Michael took seats off to one side while they waited for
the Justice of the Peace to call them in to perform the ceremony.

Typical Sally
, Claire
thought.
Never on time for anything!

Or maybe she was
being a no-show on purpose for whatever reason…jealousy or simply to make the
point that she didn’t approve.

“You think you
should call her?” Samael asked when he caught Claire looking around, glancing
at the front door for the umpteenth time.

Claire considered
and then shook her head.

“No…She said
she’d be here, and she’ll be here.” She took a deep breath. “And if she doesn’t
make it in time, we…we’ll ask someone else…someone here—” She indicated the
people waiting in line with a wide sweep of her hand.

“I think you
should call,” Samael said, “just to be sure.”

Claire was
determined not to let Sally ruin her big day by being predictably herself, but
after a few more minutes of waiting, she pulled her cell phone from her small
handbag and hit the speed dial. She tried not to fume as she listened to the
phone ringing—

Once…

Twice…

Three…and then
four times…

When the phone
clicked over to message, Claire cut the call and put the phone back into her
purse without a word.

“Maybe she’s
on her way and when she saw it was you calling, she didn’t bother to answer,”
Samael said, but Claire was suddenly sure that Sally was not on her way. She
sighed, a little sad… and hurt…that Sally would be so petty as to not show up
for her wedding.

But that
wouldn’t change a thing.

She glanced at
Michael, who was standing a short distance away from them. His arms were
crossed, and he was leaning against the wall with his feet planted squarely in
front of him. Claire noticed that people were still casting sidelong glances at
him, like he was someone famous they should recognize but didn’t. They
certainly didn’t want to approach him.

“This isn’t
like her,” Claire said, more to herself than Samael. “She wouldn’t let me down
like this.”

“I’m really
sorry,” Samael said.

Claire had no
idea what to do next. Her impulse was to get up and leave…go over to the
apartment and make sure Sally was all right. She should have been here by now.

Unless
something’s happened …

Something…but
what?

Claire’s mind
filled with several scenarios.

None of them
were good.

“I’m ready for
you now,” a woman said, speaking so suddenly that Claire let out a surprised
cry that drew the attention of people sitting nearby.

An elderly
woman, wearing a conservative dark blue skirt and jacket with a white blouse
walked over to Claire and Samael. She had a small book in her hand and a folder
with the papers they had just signed.

“Sorry,” she
said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Claire shook
her head as if in denial and said, “No…It’s all right…I’m just a—a little keyed
up.”

“That’s
perfectly understandable,” the woman said before she turned and led them to a
closed door that she opened with a pass card. She stepped to one side to allow
them to file into the small office. Then she shut the door and, still smiling
broadly, walked over to the desk on one side of the room. A different door
opened, and another woman—this one much younger and more stylishly
dressed—entered.