Page 52 of Deviant Illusions

The lace of my dress bunches beneath Kane’s rough fingers as he roughly turns me. “Sit the fuck down.” He gestures to a chair at the head of the table that would have my back to my parents.

I lower into the seat and he takes the one beside me as soon as the masked helpers have finished placing the other guests around the table. Leaning into me, he discreetly gestures to thedoctor who has been silent. “That’s Lennox. Don’t trust anyone else.”

“Who’s the other one?” I whisper back.

“Rowan,” he says, straightening up in his seat.

The man my sister warned me about is the doctor.

The man my sister warned me about is the doctor, who is Kane’s uncle.

I couldn’t have made him up if Ruby knew he existed long before I was ever trapped in that hospital. As though he’s aware of me thinking about him, Rowan turns his head. Those pale blue eyes spread unease through my body and a bone-deep chill works up my spine. His lips slowly curve, but there’s no semblance to a smile on his features. The other man, Lennox, whispers something into his ear and that sinister curve gets wider.

Rowan turns to the room like he’s a king with his arms out, hands flat, gesturing to the seats as he announces, “It’s time to feast and celebrate.”

A mix of dress shoes and heels scurry across the stone floor as the remaining guests take their seats. I don’t think they’re really guests, because you can’t be invited to a wedding that no one wanted to take place. They must be here with force like I am, although they don’t have wounds on their necks or any indication of how they’ve been forced. They look happy, talking to each other and forming their own conversations between themselves.

My parents don’t sit beside me, so I search the table for Ruby. The man she was with is still here but the seats either side of him are empty, yet he’s unperturbed by the isolation as he calmly holds a crystal wine glass up. The masked helpers must also be waiters because they fill his glass with red wine from an equally sparkling decanter. The wine is thicker than anything I’ve ever seen before, clinging to the crystal glass.

The cold floor hurts my feet and I tuck them up on the rung of the chair to try to warm them. Kane widens his thighs and awkwardly juts his foot out.

“So you don’t have to touch the floor,” he whispers without looking at me.

I gently place my feet on top of his boot as crockery and utensils are put in front of everyone around the table. There’s no food and I can’t smell anything, but everyone else looks to the other end of the table where Rowan, Lennox, and the strangely dressed woman sit. All three of them watch us and the woman rests her cane on the edge of the table.

Leaning into my favored tormentor, I ask, “Who’s she?”

He checks the seal of a bottle of water before lifting it to his lips as he answers, “My grandmother.”

What the fuck? He doesn’t have any grandparents. His mom always told him that she didn’t have any family other than Lennox. Then again, that’s not true because there’s LennoxandRowan. Their mother sits between her two sons with her arms straight out in front of her. Both men move like a mirror image of the other, carefully pulling her arms free of the sleeves. She looks ridiculous with an animal’s head on top of her own, which no one else seems to point out. Whoever styled her needs to be shot for thinking a panther is something that would ever be fashionable rather than allowed to roam free.

Cold air blows across the floor as the large cathedral doors creak open with more masked helpers entering. I fluff out the lace of the dress to offer my bare feet some protection as I watch them pull a large metallic structure behind them and place it beside the table. Warmth radiates from it and a soft orange glow flickers off the stone. When they step back, I stare at the huge spit roasting equipment. My father would always get a hog for his work functions, but the animal rotating with the bar isn’t oneI can make out. The limbs are too long to be a pig and the torso is too narrow to be bovine.

Bile rises in my throat as the charred skin slowly turns to reveal a face. A human fucking face that has already crackled. The embers spit up, licking against their skin.

I look to the side and Kane is already staring at me as he drops his hand between our seats to thread his fingers through mine. My parents, who would fire chefs for serving soup with a drop on the rim of the bowl, look on in approval at the human being slowly rotating over the flames that get bigger as a guard adjusts a knob at the side.

I’m going to fucking scream.

My mind is a fucked up place, but this is too much for me to comprehend. I wouldn’t think of something like this. Ishouldn’tthink of something like this in so much detail that I can bring the illusion to life. I can smell it. The putrid sweet scent of human flesh. I hear the crackling as their fat melts under the charred skin.

Kane gently squeezes my hand and I do it back. Each incremental squeeze gets tighter until I can’t feel my fingers. I’m sure I’m cutting off his blood circulation too. He’s the only person who’s normal and actually reacting to the circus around us. The rest are in their own private conversations, drinking, laughing—the very same shit we grew up witnessing. My parents acting like they would while they’d throw their lavish parties like there isn’t a person being slowly roasted over an open fucking flame.

25

KANE

Idon’t know what type of spider bit me, but my dick is still hard. Even with the sight of the fuckers in front of me clearing their plates of human flesh, it won’t go down. Four helpings they’ve had. Four fucking servings of a human being have been consumed without any of them throwing up, all while my dick has been hard.

Lennox doesn’t touch the wine, neither do I, and I move Delilah’s glass away from her untouched plate. The sickly sweet stench of the thin slices of meat fill the entire cathedral, turning my stomach as it remains untouched in front of us both.

I don’t let go of her hand or reduce the pressure of my hold. As soon as they’re drunk, we’ll run. We’ll get the fuck away from the cannibals and her parents. Each guest has had at least five glasses of wine since I’ve begun counting, but they don’t slur their words.

Helene uses the lion head of her stick to knock the edge of the table. Without uttering a word, Rowan stands, and the masked guards clear the room. They roll out the carcass, only to wheel in another structure. This one is made of wood with a raised bed in the middle. It looks like a medieval gurney as it rolls through. Ilean forward to make out the design on the posts. Serpents are carved into the wood, winding their way up to the top of the post, where it ends with its open mouth exposing the fangs. When the guards step back from the altar, I notice the curved horns on the other end of the posts.

Harkin politely tucks his chair back under the table before he comes to stand behind Delilah. He places his hands on her shoulders as Rowan says, “Now, it’s time for the entertainment.”

My fingers tighten around hers, and I look at Lennox. The motherfucking cunt avoids my eyes. He allows this sick fuck to pull the strings, sitting at the other end of the table like a little fucking bitch.

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