Demon's Tide (Dark Legacy Series)

If Marigold can’t save her own soul, she'll be the first in a sea of victims. Marigold La Roux finds herself trapped with the raging demon locked inside her own skin. As it hunts down the last shards of her soul, Marigold is flung from one twisted reality to the next. Lost in a maze of madness and memories, Marigold needs to reclaim her body before it’s too late. While Ma is willing to sacrifice Marigold to save millions, Louis isn’t ready to give up just yet. Led by a ghost that's keen on destruction, Louis travels to the notorious La Roux plantation, a place forever scared by the evil birthed within it. But not everyone is eager to bring the origins of the family curse to light. With Louis inside, sinister forces plot to never let him leave the plantation ... in body or soul. Past and present collide as Marigold and the demon battle for control. Old ghosts rise, ancient powers claw their way into the waking world, and forgotten horrors carve new paths of destruction. Hell is opening and it’s looking for a soul to take.

From the Inside Flap

Nadia glanced over her shoulder to check the small window set in the swinging door. The second the police officer looked away she darted across the hallway and into the La Roux girl's room. She closed the door as silently as possible. Marigold La Roux had been a prize she had been chasing for months. If she couldn't get an interview, she might at least be able to do something with a few candid shots. The small space was fitting for two patients, their beds set against opposite ends of the room. Twin curtains separated them from the rest of the room. Light poured in from the run of windows, brightening the thin material of the dividing curtains until they shone. The whole room smelt like fresh antiseptic. A heart monitor beeped, low and steady, as Nadia edged closer to the curtain to her left. Few other cases could compete with the horrors the La Roux family constantly churned out. They were such a constant point that more than a few of them had become a fixture in New Orleans. Part of the morbid tapestry that never failed to draw attention. Dozens of reporters had made their entire careers on the backs of the family. Nadia had never thought that she would be that lucky. She had been convinced, like so many others, that the once prestigious line had come to a pathetic end. But then the La Roux family home went up in flames and revealed Delilah's torture chamber. The story had become a goldmine when it was discovered that the sole survivor had been a sweet looking doe-eyed girl who, apparently, had just found out who her ancestors were. The last La Roux. It was too perfect, and Nadia wasn't about to let the opportunity slip away. She still didn't know exactly how and why the Dupont family had gotten involved. It was a fascinating twist on its own. Generations ago, Marigold's family owned and tortured Louis Dupont's. Now he was helping her evade the media attention. It wasn't a situation that screamed of innocent motives, and she had written a few articles as such. But even that notoriety hadn't been enough to make Louis give up Marigold's location. Any doubts that she might have held to Louis's innocence had left the moment she got the call from her sources at the hospital. A girl doesn't show up in this kind of condition because of someone's kindness. Nadia wrapped her fingers around the curtain, her phone posed and ready to snap a few quick shots, and pulled the fabric back. The person in the bed was a man, probably mid-forties, and definitely not who she was looking for. He didn't stir and looked to be either heavily drugged or unconscious. Carefully, Nadia pulled the curtain back into place and turned to face the other bed. Nadia's breath caught in her throat when she found that the other bed was exposed. A woman sat upon it, her spine straight and eyes fixed upon her with an unblinking stare. Her hair was a tussled mass of brilliant red locks, her eyes sunken within deep bruises, her skin so pale that each red freckle looked like a droplet of blood scattered over her flesh. Nadia forced herself to smile and tried to still the sick feeling within the pit of her stomach. "Marigold?" Her voice crackled and she cleared her throat. "Marigold La Roux." The woman didn't respond. Didn't even blink. She just watched Nadia with a chilling glare. "I'm Nadia Waters. Do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened to you?" Silence. "Both your legs are shattered. You're going to need surgery." Marigold's eyes narrowed slightly but her face remained otherwise placid. Nadia pressed on as she slowly edged closer. "They'll need to put rods in each leg. The current estimate is that it will take twenty or so weeks for the bones to heal. Maybe a year after that for you to learn to walk again." Still, Marigold kept her silence. "Did Louis tell you about me? No? I'm not surprised," Nadia said with a conversational tone. Her pleasant smile became a little easier to hold. "I've actually been trying to find you for a while. I know a lot about your family, and Louis's, and I was worried that something bad might have happened to you." She pointedly looked at Marigold's legs. "But I guess I was a little late, huh?" Marigold barely moved, turning her head just enough to keep Nadia in sight as she moved to the side of the bed. Nadia studied her face carefully, but didn't give the slightest trace of emotion. "I know about your parents," Nadia said softly. "I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you. They were nurses, right? You must have spent your whole life thinking that they were heroes." Marigold still gave her nothing to work with, so Nadia eased down onto the side of the bed. Whether it was the drugs or shock, Marigold remained completely closed off. It was then that Nadia noticed the bed wasn't angled up to give Marigold's rigid spine any support. The pillow was dented like the woman was supposed to be laying down. An unsettling feeling slipped through the pit of Nadia's stomach, but she pushed it aside and forced herself to sit down on the edge of the bed. "I'm not like the others, Marigold. I don't think you ever had the slightest idea that they were killing their patients." She licked her lips and cupped a hand over Marigold's own. Nadia pulled back slightly when she felt fingertips instead of the back of Marigold's hand. But when she looked down, her hand was still flat against the bed, palm down. Marigold's gaze never left Nadia's face, as if waiting, watching for a reaction. Nadia swallowed and collected her thoughts. "It was cruel for them to take Jasmine away. I bet you pretty much raised your little sister, didn't you? They shouldn't have killed her. I'm so sorry for your loss." "They took too long." Marigold's voice was sweet, delicate, but carried an almost hollow ring. "The drugs wore off," Marigold continued calmly, a small smile twitching her lips. "I woke up. They weren't ready for that." Nadia tried to hide her delight at Marigold's sudden addition to the conversation. Trying not to draw Marigold's attention, Nadia used her thumb to turn on the recorder app on her mobile phone. "They had only ever killed using overdoses," Nadia said. "Do you ever wonder why they didn't try and kill you like that?" "Because we weren't like the others." "You were their children," Nadia said with sympathy. "We were damned." Nadia sat up a little straighter. "What do you mean by that?" Marigold fell back into silence. "Did your parents tell you that? Or did Delilah?" Still silence. "Did Louis?" Marigold only stared. She still hadn't blinked once the entire time they had been speaking. "Marigold, did Louis do this to you?" she said. "I know you're scared. You don't know who you can trust." "Can I trust you, Nadia?" "Yes, you can. I'm here to help you." Marigold's face folded and pulled into a wide, toothy smile. Nadia watched the slow progression and tried to ignore the icy chill that crept up her spine.

About the Author

Growing up in the endless summer of Australia, Sara Clancy was always fascinated with the macabre. It gave her an opportunity to satisfy her cravings for all things spooky and strange, and indulge in a world of mystery. Currently living near a beach she never visits, she enjoys writing horror, spending most of her pay checks on books, and devotes a great deal of time and energy to fictional characters. She also enjoys talking through movies, but understands that's a private indulgence.

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