Page 48 of Deviant Illusions

Ruby holds my face in both hands, blocking me from leaving as she stands her pregnant self directly in front of me like a defense to prevent me lashing out. “You are, Delilah, and it’s the only thing stopping Rowan from marrying you. This way, you’re safe.”

I’m getting a headache from information overload. It’s all too much. Maybe Asher was right. I have hallucinations and they feel real. This is another one. Asher is the real person because that way everything is easier. If I killed Kane, then I didn’t spend years in hospital, none of my dreams are true, and this isn’t fucking happening.

But she continues. “You know our family is fucked up, that they’re power hungry and greedy? Well, it’s for a reason, Dilly. Please do this without arguing with anyone. Don’t run from Kane. Let him protect you. He loves you, remember? You’d sneak off together and you’d always blush? Or how you came home really excited because you made a friend and even though you were scared when he didn’t laugh at your joke, he still held your hand? Remember that boy? Let him be the version that you marry.”

“That’s not who Kane is now.”

“It is,” she urges. “He would always make sure you were safe. Even when you wanted to do something crazy like that time I caught you trying to climb a tree. Where was Kane?”

“At the bottom,” I mumble.

“Exactly. He was at the bottom with his arms open in case you fell and he wrapped you up in his coat so that you wouldn’t dirty your clothes.”

“No. I’m not marrying him.” That Kane has died. He’s bitter and sadistic now, hell-bent on hurting me any chance he’ll get.

But she holds me tighter, ignoring my refusal. “You are. You already have. And right now, you’re going to put on that dressand walk out of here to your husband, so that everyone knows you belong to him.”

I knew it wasn’t real.

The real Ruby wouldn’t tell me to do something if it made me uncomfortable. She wouldn’t keep things from me either. But my mind is fucked up and it can’t think of a successful lie to explain why I’m here, so it’s ruining a relationship I haven’t had since I was a child. There’s nothing in reality that could prove this wrong, because I don’t even know who Ruby is now. That’s how I know that I’ll wake up and this will be another fucked up dream that my subconscious has created to rationalize why my family is fractured.

I play along with the charade of whatever the chemicals are creating, and she relaxes. Even if she isn’t real, I’m glad she’s here. The gown bag slips through my fingers, and I hug her as tightly as I can without smothering her. My cheek is pressed to her shoulder, and it turns my voice into a mumble. “I’ve missed you.”

She hugs me back, and it feels real. Real enough to allow the comfort of an embrace from the only person who looked after me to seep in.

“I’ve missed you too. So has Scar, but you know she’s a cold-hearted bitch that won’t admit it.” She kisses my temple. “I’m so proud of you for getting away from them. I hope you were happy in those short years so that you have the memories to keep you company.”

A watery laugh escapes me, and I hug her tighter as I admit, “I wish you both took me with you.”

She strokes my back and whispers her own admission, “And I hope you never understand why I couldn’t.” Her lips brush my ear as she lowers her voice further. “I love you and that has never stopped. You’ll always be my first baby.”

23

KANE

Lennox stands beside me at the altar and Rowan takes the place I’m sure the priest should be in. I don’t know what ceremony I need to complete when I already have our marriage license to prove that she’s mine, but I remain in place, waiting for my wife as the pews fill up.

The only people I recognize are Delilah’s family. Ruby hasn’t come back from whatever she’s doing. Daigon sits alone and no one has attempted to invade his pew as he widens his legs, taking up half of the bench.

Part of me, the old me, warms at the thought of seeing Delilah walk towards me in a cathedral with her family surrounding us. The new me, the stronger part, burns because she’s ruining yet another thing that was sacred. She’s effectively pissing on the memories of her laying on my chest with her fingers threaded through mine as she watched the stars and I watched her hand, imagining the day that I could love her openly. Every little detail was clear then. It would be the perfect day. One where I’d have a brother who wasn’t obsessed with controlling everyone around him. Asher would be standing beside me, my parents watching proudly, and my wife wouldwalk towards me with a smile on her face. The same smile that she always had when she would watch the stars would be solely for me in an outdoor wedding at midnight so that I could watch her face light up.

Looking through the pews, I search for anything to settle the ache in my chest. I can’t place the reason for it, but since stepping onto the altar, there’s a gap. It’s not sadness or nerves. Just this empty space where there should be something, anything. The front rows are left empty on the side closest to me out of the three aisles arranged in a loose semi-circle. The seats where my family should be are empty because I’m alone.

Rowan and Lennox both stand taller as their heads turn, facing the door. I expect Delilah to walk into the cathedral. Instead, the large cathedral doors slowly part with a guard on each side. All the guards lining the perimeter of the cathedral do the same as my uncles, standing straighter as they adjust their masks as though they’re going to be graded while keeping one arm tucked behind their backs.

The click of heels is timed with another metallic tap and every head turns towards the sound. I straighten my spine to copy the rest of the room as an older woman walks in. Her hair is pure white, and she wouldn’t look out of place in an old Hollywood movie. Wealth seeps from her pores more than a number or a lifestyle. It’s like she embodies it. The hide she’s wearing still has the head attached and the lower portion of the panther’s jaw has been removed. Its fangs rest on her crown like a hood and she carries an ornate gold stick. The bottom portion striking the floor is made in the shape of a curving serpent’s head and it merges into a lion beneath her palm with horns protectively covering the back of her fingers, extending out of the mane.

My mom had a pendant with the Chimera on it and she would hide it under the floorboards. The secrecy drew me closerto it and I searched everything I could find on them. Every story and myth of the female monster that was more dangerous than any human mind could conjure up. But it’s the ram’s horns curling over the woman’s aged hand that makes me pause, because the Leroux family crest has a ram in the center. The curl pattern extends out in the exact same way as the ram tie pin Harkin is wearing.

The serpent’s head slowly kisses the stone floor with each step she takes until she pauses between the rows of pews. Each section stands and act like fucking freaks. They walk to her in a single file line then bow their heads as they greet her. The pews furthest away kiss her hand then the mane of her stick. The closer she gets, so do the people’s lips to her face. Rowan tenses with each new row lining up to greet her.

His jaw grinds and his face is set in hard lines as he glares at each person touching the woman. The arrogance he usually possesses is nowhere in sight as he balls his hands into fists while Lennox discreetly tilts his body to block the sight of them from the guests. But I can hear his molars clacking against each other and his breathing escalating as the woman gets closer.

She pauses between the pews containing Delilah’s family and Daigon on the other side. He doesn’t stand or look at her. He keeps his head straight, looking directly at the altar, and his entire body is still, almost deathly.

Harkin and Lizbeth stand, drawing the woman’s attention to themselves. She slowly turns her head away from Daigon as Lizbeth gently places her hand on the horns. My mother-in-law, who spent my childhood lecturing Delilah about decorum and grace, places her lips over the old woman’s.

From my position, I can see their lips parting, their tongues diving into each other’s mouths as I attempt to contain myself instead of visibly gagging. But it’s not sexual, it’s just…fucking weird. Her husband is standing beside her with his palm flat onher back as she tongues this old woman while she caresses the goat’s horns in a pattern of three like a squared bracket.

---