by Sara Clancy
Louis shielded his face as he pulled into a crouch. The soles of his shoes had melted into thick goo and the plastic of his glasses began to soften and burn against his skin. He longed to pull them off but feared to lose his sight. Marigold opened her mouth to release a scream but the smoke poured inside. She choked and thrashed, struggling to breathe as the smoke encased her and forced her back down against the mattress.
The plush giraffe was flung into the air. Ma latched onto its neck with one hand. Cracks formed in the window glass and the paint began to melt as Ma spoke the final words. Marigold tried to scream again as Ma grabbed the giraffes head with her free hand. She twisted and ripped the toy in two. Blood spurted out from it, soaking Ma’s hands and dripping down onto the floor that her feet didn’t touch. The sound of ripping flesh turned Louis stomach. Marigold screamed, blood seeping out from around the smoke that clogged her throat. Ma didn’t take her eyes away from Marigold as she threw the remains of the toy into the crackling, raging fire within the bowl. It consumed the fabric within seconds. Marigold bellowed as much as she was able, her spine twisting, her limbs trembling. When the last inch of material was lost to the flames, she flopped back down against the mattress, blood-drenched and as still as the dead.
***
Louis jerked away when someone touched his shoulder. Blinking blearily, he looked up to see his mother smiling down at him. Fatigue had claimed him soon after the ritual had been conducted. They had barely had the time to slip out before the change of shift had arrived. It seemed that the chaos had been completely contained within the one room. No one outside had heard anything, seen anything, even felt a change in the temperature as far as he was aware. Rene had been able to piece together a bit of the chatter. They hadn’t been able to clean Marigold before they left, and the running theory amongst the doctors was a burst capitulary or aneurism.
Losing her eyes entirely, however, had been a trick, most likely to play on Ma’s sympathy and make her stop. The demon obviously didn’t know Louis’ Ma very well.
It hadn’t taken long for Ma to fall asleep in the waiting room. Louis had been able to hold off until Marigold was out of the emergency CT scans and x-rays. They had wheeled her into the room, both legs set in thick casts and suspended by dangling ropes. The second she was situated, Louis had pulled a chair up to her bedside. He remembered sitting down but nothing after that.
“What time it is?” he asked as he glanced over to Marigold.
A little bit of color had seeped back into her cheeks and her hand now felt warm under his, but it didn’t seem like she had moved an inch.
“A bit after eight,” Ma said
“Are you okay?” he asked, unable to suppress his yawn.
“Still a bit sleepy. I’m waiting for her to wake up to see if I can go get a hotel room nearby. I’m too old for waiting room chairs.”
Louis smirked, “After last night, I wouldn’t have thought so.”
“It was stupid of you to look it in the eye,” Ma said.
“I’ve done a few stupid things,” Louis admitted. He smiled at his mother, letting true warmth and gratitude seep out from behind his fatigue. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me until we see what state she’s in,” Ma said.
Louis’ throat clenched, “But the ritual worked right?”
“I can’t be certain. But even if it’s gone, there might still be some lasting damage.”
Trying to hide the quiver in his voice he glanced at her, “What do you mean?”
“Black magic isn’t just dangerous because of what it summons,” she said.
“There is no certainty in it. The same spell can have a thousand different reactions that the human body just isn’t built to withstand. I won’t be able to judge what we’ve actually done to her until she wakes up. Although, something must be said about the doctors being so hopeful.” Ma allowed a long moment of silence to linger before she spoke again. “You really messed up, Louis.”
“I know.”
“If I hadn’t already been on my way.”
“I know,” Louis repeated.
She sucked in an audible breath, swallowing down her simmering anger, “I don’t think that the police officer believes us. He’s growing suspicious.”
Louis didn’t answer. He just squeezed Marigold’s hand, begging for some kind of sign that she was in there. She didn’t move.
“We’re sticking to the story that she fell. Admittedly, it’s not the best, but we’ve already committed to it. Louis, are you paying attention?”
“Yes.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
“She fell,” he said numbly.
“One more time with little conviction.”
Louis cleared his throat and pushed out the words again. They still felt flat against his tongue but were solid enough to satisfy her.
“You don’t know anything beyond that,” Ma instructed. “Don’t try and elaborate. You’re a horrible liar.”
“I know.”
“She’ll be okay,” Ma assured as she squeezed his shoulder again. “Or we’ll keep fighting until she is.”
His mother was at the door by the time he could trust himself to speak.
“Thanks, Ma. Why don’t you get a hotel room?”
“I don’t want to go too far.”
“That would be impossible. This town barely has more than three blocks. Besides, she’ll be in no condition to go anywhere.” He hesitated over the last words. “And we might need you well rested.”
She nodded once, her fingers clenching the doorframe to keep in all the things she didn’t want to say at the moment. It was just a matter of time before her rage came up and he had to face the enormity of her anger. He had used dark magic. He had almost killed someone. He had almost gotten all of them killed. These were not things that she was going to let go. But for now, she swallowed her words and left him alone to his personal demons without comment.
Louis slid down a little further in his seat and let his eyes drift close. Everything will be fine, he told himself as he started to drift. It was a lot easier to believe it as the morning light drifted through the hospital room windows. There was a steady strum of workers bustling around outside the door, proof that life existed, that they weren’t alone. The beeping of her heart monitor created a lullaby that lured him deeper into sleep. He slumped against the chair, comforted by the warm, smooth skin that covered the back of Marigold’s hand that suddenly twitched.
Louis bolted upright to find Marigold smiling at him, her eyes open, a pristine blue. A sob wretched from his throat. He couldn’t tell if it was one of guilt or relief. But her fingers entwined with his and she reached for him with her free hand. He fell into her, wrapping one arm carefully but tightly around her waist as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. She held him back just as tightly, her fingers clutching the material of his shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, only to be gently shushed into silence.
They held each other for a long moment, the warmth of her body easing the aches of his muscles.
“It’s going to be okay,” he promised. “Everything will be better now.”
“Thank you, Louis.”
Ice flooded through his body as the word hit his ear.
His name.
Spoken with the perfect French emphasis.
He had his hand still against her spine and his heart stuttered when he felt the bones move. Louis took in a sharp breath, unsure if the sensation was just a trick of his sleep-drenched mind or real. He was still mulling over the question when, suddenly, sharp nails raked across the skin of his palm. He wrenched his hand back and stared at Marigold. She didn’t let go. Didn’t move. It could have been a trick.
Safe and warm, surrounded by light, he could believe that he wasn’t holding a demon. All he had to do was ignore the pain that still streaked along his palm.
* * *
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
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