Ruin Maketh Me

75 - Tell me I won't love him

My mouth dries and air rushes into me in frantic gusts. English, Earth, Ashford— when did the woman die? I don't know, she threw me away 18 years ago. When did this Otherworlder come into this world? When? When? When?
     Ice grips my wrist hard, and my eyes snap back to the three.
     "Did you really think you could get away?" Delia erupts, voice like blue flames.
     I swallow, shrug, try to pull her cold hands off my arm, "I got lost."
     She sneers, "If you had stayed obediently in your room, you wouldn't have gotten lost." Pulling me forward with tremendous strength, she whispers in my ear vehemently, "I thought I gave you a warning yesterday. Don't think I'll let you go."
     I grit my teeth, "Don't fuck with me."
     Her grip tightens ruthlessly, and even I can't hide the wince spasming across my face.
     "Stay quiet." She orders through her teeth, bringing me forwards towards Leonard's darkened face and twisted stance,
     "I placed a tracking spell on you," Leonard says, voice low and insistent, "You should probably get rid of that first before trying to run."
     Anchoring me between him and Delia, he grips my left hand just as tightly as Delia, face a mask of dampened uncaring again. I fire him a quick glance, but he just looks stonily ahead at the unending corridor. He doesn't seem to have noticed the band of gold encircling my pinky.
     The man from yesterday seemingly melts from the wall, and giving me a thoughtful look, he gestures forward, "Well them, Mr Caprio, let's continue."
I stumble after the man into the same eternity, and if it were not for Delia and Leonard's iron holds, it would've been exactly the same as yesterday evening. It's only when we reach the ominous, twisting stairwell down that they release me from their grips with one and a half looks of sharp suspicion. Something's changed. I look at the descending steps, they're near imperceptibly the same, but the atmosphere is sharply different. We're no longer on the staircase to heaven, instead it's like there's some deep abyss below us. If I had not known what was beneath, I would've believed it.
But down we go. Spiralling all the way to hell, I spin, hands cold by my side. Too many questions, too many uncertainties, too many things I have to deal with. If the Otherworlder really came here 18 years ago, so what? It could all be a laughable coincidence, and even, even by the smallest chance that it isn't a coincidence. What can I do the way I am now? I can't even fucking get rid of Delia and Leonard, not to mention meet the Queen of Mal.
Beads of cold sweat wash the palms of my hands, and a sudden dizziness grips my head. I can't ask. I can't, I can't! What if it's true? What if it's really that woman here, in the same place as me, in the same situation as me? Knowing the truth would change everything, and yet, nothing. It wouldn't help me get out of this body, escape my two jailers, destroy her life. Yes, that's the thing isn't it? There are other more pressing issues. Do I really have a damn kid with that elf, Salaben? But again, I'm being stupid. I know the truth, this body's feelings don't lie. And what's with Ralphus? That desperation... it breaks my heart.
Voices crowd into my mind, and a sharp pain pounds the cornerstone of my head. The static heaves and in a sudden clarity or enlightenment, disappears like a fleeting wind.
Can you hear me? Finally! But Cynder, what's wrong? Don't cry, everything's going to be fine, I'm here, I'll always be here, ok?
I'm not crying. I struggle back at Sol and his all encompassing warmth.
Where are you? Don't worry, I'll send someone to get you back. Sol's clear, smooth voice soothes over the taunt Bond.
     A mint coolness eases the pounding in my temples, I'm heading to Salaben with Leonard.
—Sala what darling? I— quite catch— last bit. His voice fraught with worry and frustration streams over in halting streams.
Another string in my chest snaps, and the moment the static sets back in again, I think I'm losing it. Finally.
Salaben the elf. Salaben, Salaben, Salaben!
But even if he heard, he doesn't reply.
The front door bangs open, and a surge of cold wind trails its fingers violently through the strands of my hair. The grey walkway is deserted and littered with cigarette butts, empty bottles and business cards for bodily services, and anger flares unbidden inside me. To hell with fear and pain! If only I had a better relationship with Sol, even if he had forced this bond on me, I wouldn't be in this hellish situation. No, if I hadn't thought Declan's eyes looked like mine, I wouldn't be in this situation at all!
Leonard's car glides smoothly in front of us, and before I can even slightly recover, Leonard stuffs me into the vehicle roughly. Settling into his seat with a renewed ease, he claps his hands, and the dirty street shoots out of view. The membrane like barrier breaks over us, and we're zooming on one of the main roads of the city again.
He cocks his leg and rests his head on a paw, "I've decided to speed up the schedule; we're not going to stop for the night," A grin full of foxy satisfaction curls over his face, "congratulations, we're all going to stay in this car for this entire day."
"Oh come on!" Hoplin whines, clutching their impish head, "Is it all because of that guy?" A long finger and a pair of accusatory eyes snap at me unmovingly.
Leonard gives me a long glance, "No, not really."
Hoplin cocks a brow, "Hmmm, rigggghhhhhhhttttttt."
I reward Hoplin with the remnants of my anger and turn towards the window again. Like yesterday, we seem to be driving on the same main road, but instead of whizzing into the grotesquely beautiful city, we're shooting back out into the gloriously empty countryside. How long would it take to reach Salaben? A spark of crazed anticipation joins the beat of my heart. God damn it, this Elijah really did love Salaben, enough to give up his bastardly family and body and in the end, his life.
     "I'm afraid you were definitely his bitch, though I suppose he didn't care much for you..."
     Salaben, he liked Elijah enough for him to bear a child, but he didn't love Elijah enough to dissuade him from having the child. What twisted logic is that? The deranged hilarity twists the anticipation in my heart into shapeless threads. You might as well say that Salaben never loved Elijah at all. If he had any sort of fondness or even pity towards Elijah, he wouldn't have impregnated him, not when he knew that it'll kill him the cruelest possible way.
     I rub my eyes and press my hand to the cold pane of glass, "The Salaben family, do they have a child?"
     A child that's supposed to be mine...
     Leonard's brow rises to an exaggerated height, and the way he looks at me shifts perceptibly, "Why do you ask?"
     "Just answer me."
     "Yes." Hoplin says, pale eyes travelling between Leonard and me, "He's ten, though no one's seen him."
Ten. The whole world spins, and a tight nausea strings up my guts. Oh god, I have an actual fucking kid, an actual, breathing, living kid with my blood running through his veins. Not to mention, I had him with an Elf that doesn't give a shit about me. Why the hell is everything getting even more complicated now? And how the heck am I supposed to explain this to Ralph? I can't exactly go up to him and say, "I had a kid with an elf, but it wasn't really me so don't worry, it won't affect us at all."
Rubbing my brow, I twist in my seat and take a deep breath, avoiding Delia's eye, "Alright, ok, can someone explain what a demon's Shadow is?"
All eyes except from mine zoom in on Delia and as expected, a cold hmph disturbs the air, "I see you've never had a proper education."
My body stiffens and my teeth clack together. Clam down Cynder, calm down. Don't lash out, it's not the first time you've heard this.
"Demons are capable of generating much larger volumes of magic than humans or Beastian because the miasmas of Mal are fused into our bodies." Her gaze pierces razor sharp and full of blood into my flesh, "Although the miasma strengthens our body, it also amplifies our negative emotions and the traits we hate most about ourselves, so much so that they take on another form, known as the Shadow. When we go past snapping point, the shadow emerges and takes control. In some rare cases, we are able to merge successfully with our Shadows, but most of the time we lose control of everything."
"Well," Hoplin sidles into Delia's explanation, "It's all part of Original Sin. We can't have too much fun, can we? Otherwise Uhyls wouldn't be Uhyls."
"Tch." I spit out, "I don't believe in Original Sin."
Hoplin's fingers drum along his lips, and his eyes curve unsmilingly, "Think what you like, though," his eyes flash in unspeakable intention, "You're the one with the least right to say that."
I drink in his strange look, but no matter how I probe it, I can't decipher the meaning behind his flitting stare. Original sin and God, even if they do exist, so what? I'd give them a good beating if I could, but God won't even let me have control of my own life first. In this aspect, I have more than enough right to say whatever I want. It's the least God can grant me.
     Ralphus's chained figure swirls into solid lines and vibrant colour before my eyes. The need, the desperation, the anger, the pain, the ravage of his gaze...All of these things point to one thing: he's Ralph's shadow. But Original sin? What fucking bullshit. If that man before me yesterday night was truly Ralph's shadow, God's the one who's truly unmerciful. At least with me, Ralph's shadow was gentle, he treasured me, he ravished me, and if that - if that is evil, what good is there left in this world?
In no way am I wrong for pitying and feeling affection for his shadow.
"What happens when a demon loses control?" My voice creaks out hoarse and low, "Do their claws and fangs extend fully?"
Delia does not reply, but I read the answer in everyone's dull stare of infuriating boredom and annoyance. So it is true, he was indeed Ralph's shadow, I see no other answer. But what is hurting him so? Day in, day out, I've seen frustration and helplessness in Ralphus before, but never to that extent, never so chokingly sorrowful.
My eyes slide across the space, and I face Delia's gaze head on. Her eyes are just as burning purple as her brother's, but today, within them, there's a cold haughtiness and strangled dissatisfaction. Within the swirl and turn of indigo and blue and shallow pink, a half hidden confusion and uncertainty emerges and disappears like a boat in the waves of a storm. In those transient seconds when these questions float to the top, she looks as if she's just a child, lost. What would she say if she knew I had seen her brother's shadow in my sleep? How would she look at me then? He did not attack me like you said, he hugged me and kissed me and cried out for me not to leave. Would she believe it?
No. No, she wouldn't, not for even a second. Even if I had been born as something other than a human, she wouldn't have liked me any better.
I rub the band ringing my left pinky. At least now, I'm not so powerless, but there's no use in an inheritance if they find out that I'm an Otherworlder. I don't exactly plan on dying any time soon, even if I'm heading straight to my demise this very moment. It'll all become apparent when we meet, Salaben and I, that I'm no longer the same person he mated with. I'm no longer the same person who mothered his son.
My hands clench my knees tightly. But I don't think that's the only problem... even now when I haven't met him yet, my heart is filled with such hopeful anticipation, it's absurd. But what about when I see him, when he is truly and wholly standing in front of me, just within reach? Would my heart burst?
     Elijah's feelings might overtake me.
And what if I fall in love?
Everything would go to hell.

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AN: Sorry for the shortish chapter, we'll get some more sexy interaction next chap, I promise!