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She thrust her mind into the path of the entity and struck. Her blow did little damage, but it was too enraged to ignore her. Siroun fled, zigzagging back and forth, and the presence followed, chasing the shadow of her mind.
“What did you see in the hallway?” Adam asked.
Sobanto swallowed. “Our son. I saw her hang our son.”
“Did you attack her?”
“Yes. I grabbed her by her throat. I tried … I meant to pull her off him. I didn’t know. She died. I killed her. I found a note. It said she sacrificed herself and her body would now belong to a god. It said I would pay for everything.”
The entity lashed at Siroun. She barely avoided it. “Why?” she snarled. “Why does she hate you?”
“I don’t know. We had a good marriage, considering the circumstances.”
“The circumstances?”
“Hurry, Adam.” She forced the words out. “I cannot elude her much longer.”
Sobanto hesitated.
“We have little time,” Adam told him.
The lawyer closed his eyes. “I bought her. From the Blessings of the Night coven.”
The wraith bit into Siroun’s defenses. Sharp needles of pain stabbed her lungs; for a moment, she could not breathe. She ripped herself free.
“You bought her?” Adam asked.
“They needed a lawyer. They were facing criminal charges, and they had no money. I needed somebody to analyze the behavioral patterns of the jury and my opponents. We made a deal.”
“Why did you marry her?”
“I wanted my children to have what she had. I’m deficient. I don’t relate to people, not the way she could. And she was beautiful.”
He had bought her, like a purebred dog.
“She chose the juries for you,” Adam said. “She monitored them through the trial, and you claimed the credit.”
“I didn’t abuse her!” Desperation rang in Sobanto’s voice. “I denied her nothing. Best clothes, best jewelry, the best of everything.”
“Why didn’t she just leave?” Adam asked.
“She was bound to me by the coven.”
The entity clamped her. Pain ripped through Siroun. Emotions twisted her into a knot, echoes of a woman lost. At once she was lonely, longing, caught between the need to please and revulsion, bitter, empty, watching life passing by, unable to escape, growing tired, growing old, growing stupid, knowing she was not loved,
would never be loved, would never be free …
She cried out and tore herself free again. She could barely stand. “He’s telling the truth,” she said.
“Why does she hate him?”
“Because he did not love her. He is a sociopath, Adam. He’s incapable of giving her what she wanted. She thought when their son was born, he would feel something, but he doesn’t. End it. We must kill him, or the thing that has her body will rip him to pieces. It’s almost here.”
“Kill me,” Sobanto said suddenly. “I want to die. I just don’t want her to have me.”
Adam raised his chin, his face, blanched of all blood, strangely proud, almost regal. “We have no claim on this man. He served as an instrument in his wife’s suicide. On behalf of the POM Insurance, I, Adjuster Adam Talbot, resign all rights to retribution, as specified by Part 23, paragraph 7 of the POM policy manual.”
Sobanto’s face finally showed emotion: stark, all-consuming fear.
