by Sara Clancy
She turned on her heel and ran into the streets as fast as she could. The rain and fog separated her from the world as she bolted down the centre of the abandoned street. An explosive roar sounded form somewhere behind her. She turned to see the furthest streetlamps die in an eruption of sparks. The next followed suit. Then the next. The destruction followed her as she barrelled down the street. She could hear the electricity sizzle in the rain, the glass slash across the brick and stone. It hunted her. She couldn’t put any distance between them.
She flung herself into one alley after another until the buildings closed in on all sides. Her next turn brought her to an offshoot that was too narrow to merit streetlamps. The clouds shifted and cast some dampened moonlight over the world. By it she saw that water turned the street into a sea of black ink. The last shreds of her rational mind screamed at her to run, that the water couldn’t possibly be deep, she couldn’t possibly drown. Her feet refused to move. Water dripped from her hair and slid over her skin like questing fingers. Despite the constant downpour, the lake mirrored the world around it. She saw her own reflections. She saw a figure standing beside her.
She almost tripped as she whirled around, but all that met her was an empty alley. Her eyes darted down. The figure was still there, human in shape but completely void of any color or detail. It was impossible to see its eyes but she knew it was looking at her. She could feel it.
A solid bang rang out from behind her. The ground shook with it and dread flooded her veins. She couldn’t look away from the figure in the water as the ground shook again.
Footsteps, she realized with a sicking twist of her gut. They were footsteps. Its breath pushed at her damp hair, rank and humid, as it growled. Fists balled, she whirled and swung. She hadn’t been prepared when she actually hit something.
Chapter 14
Pain snapped up Louis’ shoulder as he threw himself against the door. It still refused to move. He held his breath and pressed his ear against the wood. It had been a few minutes since he had last heard Marigold and he still couldn’t catch the faintest hint of her. He didn’t know if she had run or if she was bleeding out on the church steps only a few feet from him.
He slammed his fist against the door with a bellow of frustration and turned to study the church. A few lights emitted a soft glow, enough to allow sight but still permitted shadows to drench each corner. The altar took up the front of the church, the sides lined by rows of red glass jars with candles inside. Stained-glass windows, set high into the walls, colored any of the moonlight that managed to slip through the clouds.
As he jogged down the aisle, he contemplated breaking one of the windows, but even if he could, there was no way he could climb out. There had to be another exit. He skidded to a stop just in front of the altar and frantically looked around. To his right the wall opened up to a hallway and he bolted for it. Just as he rounded the corner he collided with a man coming the other way. They both fell to the ground with pained groans and Louis was the first one back on his feet. The priest was confused but still accepted Louis’ offer to help him up.
“Are you alright, child?”
“Where is the exit?”
The priest’s brow furrowed. “Right back the way you came?”
“It’s locked. Where’s a back exit?” Before the man could respond he added, “Please, this is important. My friend’s in danger and I need to get out there.”
“This way,” he took Louis quickly through back passageways to a fire exit at the rear of the building. “Should I call the police?”
“I doubt that they can help,” Louis said. The priest’s probing gaze forced him to add. “It’s a spiritual matter. Can you open the door?”
He feared that it wouldn’t move but the priest opened it with ease.
“Thank you.” Louis slipped out into the rain but hesitated just long enough say in a rush of words, “May I ask you for a favor? I need your rosary. I will return it later.”
“Child?”
“Even if you don’t believe evil has a real form, my friend does. Please, help us.”
For an excruciatingly long moment, the priest did little else but study him. Nerves boiled inside Louis until he was a second away from ripping out of his skin. Finally he removed the chain of beads from his pocket and Louis snatched it up with far more force than he intended to. The solid orbs dug into his palm as he clenched his fists and ran into the driving rain.
***
The blow itself might not have been all that strong, but it had been enough to force the stranger down. He must have cracked his head against the concrete because he didn’t stir as the rain trickled over him and added to the swamp he lay in. Marigold, frozen in shock, did little more than nurse her now throbbing hand and stare at him. She had never seen the man before and couldn’t recall hearing him sneak up on her.
From somewhere hidden from sight came a menacing growl, low and demonic. Instantly snapped from her surprise, she turned to the sound. Her hands felt empty. She longed for a weapon. Something, anything, she could use to defend herself. Not that there was anything that could protect her. Rain flowed over her face and further blurred her vision. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel it watching her. Her attention flicked down to the unconscious man at her feet. What would it do to him if she ran? Tonight was the first time she had seen it attack someone beyond herself. This was new territory in an already alien world. What am I supposed to do?
Her jaw dropped when she looked back to the mouth of the alley. The rain shattered as it fell onto open air. The thousands of fractured droplets created a haze around a towering silhouette. Its proportions were wrong, mangled and misshapen, but still undoubtedly strong. It made dread course through her veins like tar.
Water exploded as it charged towards her at a rapid pace. She couldn’t even flinch before it struck her and knocked her off her feet. Pain laced across her back as she fell onto the rain slick ground. The feel of the water against her skin drove her mind back to that night. She flailed wildly, her desperation rendering her movements useless. The footsteps tore over the ground again and passed her in a blur of disrupted rain.
A scream ripped from her throat and she threw herself onto her stomach. Fire seared her thigh. She flung her hair out of her face and pulled up her skirt to see the patch of skin that still felt like a branding iron was pressed against it. A hunk of her flesh was now molten and bloody. The rain thinned the welling blood until she could see the bite mark that ravaged her thigh. Her fingers trembled as she pressed them to the wound. She pushed until spikes of pain sizzled along her nerves. It was real. It had bit her.
The last shreds of the denial she had clung to snapped and she was faced with the cold reality. It pressed down on her with a crippling weight, flattened her against the ground, ribs on the brink of snapping. It growled in her ear. She gagged as its stench filled her nose. Each breath brought a mouthful of water down her throat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move, her heart thundering as the force on top of her continued to bare down against her spine. Fire flared across her back and sides. This time she felt the fangs break her skin and sink into her flesh. She felt every second of it.
A hand enclosed her wrist and pulled her out of the creature’s grasp. Shaking all over she pushed her hair from her face and sprung her head up. She froze when the person before her wasn’t Louis.
“Delilah?”
“Thank God I found you,” she pulled Marigold into a tight embrace and looked over to the still unconscious man. “Is he alive?”
Marigold clung to her, sobbing wildly, and Delilah had to peel her off in order to get her to speak.
“I think so. We have to get out of here. We have to leave. Now.”
“Calm down.”
“You don’t understand,” her voice was a hysterical shriek, but the older woman didn’t react.
“Yes I do.” The calm tone made Marigold still. “I know exactly what you’re running from. It has been with our family for a long time.”
; “You knew?” Marigold pushed up onto her knees. “You knew and you said nothing?!”
“To protect you. I had hoped that it was like hoodoo magic. That if you didn’t believe in it, then it couldn’t hurt you. Ignorance was your only defence.”
“Well, it didn’t work.”
“Perhaps it would have if you hadn’t brought voodoo into the house. I had thought that the Duponts would have been merciful to you, but they are far more determined to see the end of our line than I had anticipated. When I found that gris-gris, I knew they had targeted you, I just hadn’t wanted to admit it. I’m sorry for that.”
“The Duponts didn’t do this.”
“Is that what they told you? You can’t trust them, sweet child. I’m your family. Trust me, not them.”
“You left me to fight this thing alone.” Marigold pushed aside Delilah’s hand as she reached to cup her face.
“Your father had died to keep this from you. I was trying to honor his wishes and spare you this horror. I realize now that I can’t.” Marigold didn’t know if she should scream or cry as Delilah continued. “Generations ago, a voodoo queen cursed our family and shackled that demon to our bloodline.”
She shook her head. “Louis said it wasn’t voodoo.”
“And you trust him?” Anger flashed across Delilah’s face before she could school her features into something softer. “Of course you do. I left you so vulnerable to his manipulations. Do you know how they summon their gods in the voodoo religion? They torture an animal. The more pain it feels, the more their gods listen. This creature is like them. It wants fear. It feeds off of pain. You must give that to it, my sweet child, or it will take it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m sure the Duponts told you about the transgressions of our family.”
“That we’re all murderers.”
“We all made a choice,” Delilah corrected. “We decided to survive any way we could. Now it’s your turn to choose.”
There was still enough light to glisten off the blade of the knife Delilah held out between them. Marigold stared at it, listening to the rain ping off the polished steal.
“I don’t understand.”
“You can’t get rid of it, Marigold, but you can pay for momentary peace.” She pressed the hilt of the knife into Marigold’s hand and motioned to the still unconscious man. “I’m glad that your first will be so much easier than mine was.”
Unable to comprehend what Delilah was saying, all Marigold could do was stare. The blade dangled from her limp fingers, the rain making her grip slippery.
“The man in the mausoleum?”
“It was necessary,” Delilah spoke softly. “We only ever do what is necessary.”
“What? You killed a man. How could that possibly be necessary?”
“Do you think that this is the extent of the demon’s cruelty? This will get so much worse for you. It has no other purpose in existence, and no greater joy, then to drive you into madness. It will inflict upon you an array of pain you never knew existed. You can’t run from it. Can’t hide from it. What you have felt for only a few days will be the extent of your life.”
“So you kill people?”
“Death calms it. That’s why I believe it comes from a voodoo spell, because the more horrible the death, the greater its satisfaction, and the longer it stays away. Believe me child, when this demon has become an unrelenting part of your life, you will do anything for a moment of peace.”
The rain mixed with the tears slipping from Marigold’s eyes. For all the revelations there was only one question that bubbled out of her mouth.
“Is that why my parents did what they did?”
“I’m afraid it is,” Delilah took Marigold’s free hand with both of hers, long nails scraping against her skin. Marigold tried to pull away but Delilah tightened her grip. “All of those people.”
“You don’t need to offer that many,” Delilah said quickly. “Your father couldn’t bring himself to inflict pain. He thought himself more merciful to kill painlessly with drugs. But a swift death doesn’t satisfy it for as long. So he needed more to buy himself the same amount of time.”
No longer able to move, Marigold didn’t protest as Delilah changed her grip to the hand that still held the knife. The older woman’s fingers tightened on Marigold’s own. The wooden hilt of the kitchen knife nestled against her palm, solid and strong. Marigold wanted to protest but couldn’t find the words. With a sinking sense of horror she watched as Delilah angled the tip of the blade over the unconscious man’s heart. The material of the shirt bunched under the deadly point.
“Just push down,” Delilah whispered. “It’ll be quick. He’s unconscious, he won’t feel a thing.”
Each breath the man took put pressure on the blade and Marigold could feel the resistance.
“I can’t.”
“You have to.”
A fine tremble took hold of Marigold’s body and each breath felt like fire in her lungs.
“I can’t.”
“It’s waiting.”
Delilah hissed out the words a second before phantom fangs slashed deep into Marigold’s stomach. She screamed and tried to rear back, but despite the age difference, Delilah held her tightly in place. Encased in her aunt’s arms, Marigold could only shriek and flinch as the demon ravaged her skin. Blood seeped along her legs and arms as her skin ripped open. A pressure entered her chest. Like a solid stone, it pushed against her heart. Her heartbeats staggered, her lungs crushed, her throat seized tight, and all the while the fangs continued to slash at her skin.
Each nerve ending crackled. Pure, unbridled, agony made her spasm as if electricity was pulsing through her. It robbed her of the ability to scream, leaving her to whimper and choke. Delilah pushed Marigold forward and she staggered onto the man.
“Do it, Marigold. End your pain!”
She felt fangs close around her shoulder and squeeze until the bones began to bend.
“This won’t stop. Not unless you stop it.”
Her head swirled, each thought broken by a new current of pain. She couldn’t think. She just needed to think. For a second. Only one.
“Marigold!”
Her eyes fell to the man, to the blade she had posed at his chest. She made herself look him in the face. He had hair just beginning to turn white at the temples and there were deep lines around his eyes and forehead, but she couldn’t tell if that meant that he spent a lot of time frowning or smiling. The demon tightened its hold on her shoulder and her brain finally spewed up an answer.
This won’t stop. Not unless I stop it.
She braced one hand on the man’s chest and pushed, freeing herself of Delilah’s grip and the beast on her shoulder. The rain flung from the blade as she swung her hand wide. The metal was cool against her throat.
It ends with you.
Her fingers tightened. The muscles of her arms quivered. Falling tears burn her cheeks like acid.
Finish what dad started.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Pain exploded across the back of her skull and she slumped onto the slick concrete. She felt each drop of rain pummel her and then she felt nothing at all.
Chapter 15
Louis stumbled into his apartment, a fine layer of sweat mixing with the rainwater that trailed off of him. His chest heaved and he could barely coordinate his steps as he hurried around the small space. He had searched the alleyways for hours but hadn’t been able to find a trace of Marigold. Dread eroded his insides until it felt like it alone existed within his skin. He had checked every open store he could find, scoured Bourbon Street, and returned to the church. The only other place he could think that she would flee to was his apartment. It had been easy to picture her curled up on his couch, frightened but safe, as he had made his way through the streets. Reality had crushed that hope. He stormed through his home, searching for the slightest thing out of place, some trace that she had just been there, but found nothing.
Searching b
ecame ransacking as he checked every conceivable hiding spot. She wasn’t here. She had never come back. Unable to stand still, he paced through his apartment as he hit the speed dial on his cellphone. It rang, the droning sound driving him closer to the blind void of panic until his mother finally answered.
“Is Marigold with you?”
“No,” Ma said, “What’s happened?”
“It touched me. Well to be completely candid, it threw me like a gator flipping a frog.”
“What?!”
“It separated me from Marigold and now I can’t find her.”
“Louis, this is far too strong to be a Diab.”
“At this point, I don’t care. I just want to bring Maggie home.” He didn’t bother to close the door behind him as he ran out of his apartment and barrelled down the stairs. “Call Joe. I think I know where it took her.”
***
The world came to her in shades of color and misery. It felt like every square inch of her skull had been replaced with red hot razor blades. Her brain was on fire and pain pulsed out from the base of her skull on every heartbeat. Marigold squinted and tried to bring the world into focus. A few scattered candles supplied just enough light to distinguish shapes from shadows.
Ice crept over her skin. She recognised the space. She was back in her room, the one in the attic. She was in the La Roux house. A groan rattled from her chest and she surged up. Metal clanked against metal, her wrists pulled back, and she slumped against the bed. Her head spun as she turned to the side and trailed her gaze along her arm.
The murky wasteland of her mind cleared with a near-audible crack. She was shackled to the bed. A wide band of near ancient metal enclosed her wrist. From it dangled a chain, as thick as her forearm, and she followed it to where it met the wall behind her bed. Her heart lurched into her throat, a solid lump that choked the air from her lungs. As she attempted to throw herself from the bed, she found an identical chain latched to her other wrist.
