8
"I can see why he picked her."
Randy spoke, breaking into Mark's thoughts as he paced his bedroom. Mark stopped and looked at the younger man.
"It's her eyes. Never saw eyes like that before." Randy shrugged.
Mark heaved a sigh. "Maybe. Why he chose her is not our concern." But Randy was probably right. Rayne had strange eyes, which he at first had thought were brown. In the light though, they were a dark violet color. It was very striking.
"How long do you think we have before..."
"There's no way of knowing." Mark interrupted him. "She fell asleep during the drive last night. Had a dream. I think he's already started prying at her."
"That fast?" Randy's eyes widened. "He's not wasting any time."
"I think he already knows about the others. He wants this one before they can shut him down." Mark went to the window and looked out. Afternoon was fading. The shadows were growing long with the coming night. "One of us will have to get her some clothes to wear. It's too long a trip and too risky to go to her house for them." He should have thought of that before. But he'd been in a hurry to get her away, to get her hidden.
The shower came on in the attached bathroom. Rayne had been quiet for the rest of the day, hardly seeming to know where she was. Randy had tried to draw her out but she'd just looked at him blankly. She'd surprised them both by asking if she could take a shower. And change clothes. Mark had finally given her one of her T-shirts to wear, which she had taken with a grimace.
"She's acting...strange." Randy said.
"How would you know what strange behavior is to her?" Mark did not look back at him. He watched the day fade.
"You threatened her, didn't you?" Randy knew it was true even without probing into Mark's mind. Not that he could do that...not usually. Mark had tricks for blocking that kind of thing.
"She needed to understand the seriousness of the situation."
"Mark..." Randy sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "She's been taken away from everything she knows. That is shock enough, don't you think? Reminds me of...us in a way. Losing everything...not knowing what's going on..."
"She is nothing like us."
"Well, she's more like you than me. At least you have a little human in you. Although I am having my doubts about that right now." Randy watched as Mark turned to stare at him.
"You mind what you say, boy." Mark's voice had taken a dark twist. It was all Randy could do not to grin.
"I won't. Not a bit. Because I'm not going to do Dominic's job for him."
Mark clenched his fists at the mention of the name. "What are you..."
"Oh please. Dominic has to break her before he can cart her off. Did it occur to you that you just helped him right along? Made his job a little easier?" Randy almost laughed at the look on Mark's face. "You stomp on her spirit and he'll have her quicker than you can blink. I'm starting to wonder if that's your demon side or your human side. Seems like both sides enjoy it."
"I was making sure that she didn't try anything."
Randy did laugh at that one. "Should have let her. It's not like we couldn't bring her right back. We're...connected now. The touch..."
Mark let go of the anger. He rubbed a hand across his face. "You're right." Randy had used the touch on her already; they were connected now. Randy would always know where she was, know her topmost thoughts. What was going on in the deeper reaches of her mind...that would be Mark's problem to take care of.
The shower cut off, and both men glanced toward the door. "Uh...I'll go to town. We need some other stuff anyway." Randy pushed away from the door and made his way downstairs. Mark resumed staring out the window, waiting.
Rayne dried off and tugged the T-shirt over her head. Black of course. It fell to about mid-thigh. She picked up a comb that was on the sink and began detangling her wet hair, wincing every time she caught a snag. She was putting off going out there. If should could stay locked in this bathroom forever, it would suit her just fine.
She looked at her jeans, lying in a pile on the floor. Her cell phone was still in the pocket. She started to reach for it, then stopped. Who would she call? Wynn? Rayne shook her head. She did not want to drag anyone into this. The cops maybe...but she had no clue where the hell she was, so what could she tell them? "Yeah...some demons have kidnapped me and are holding me hostage so they can kill another demon. Right officer, I'll stay on the line while you call the local mental hospital," She muttered under her breath.
It would help if that big asshole would make up his mind. One minute he's talking to her like she's...well...a human being. The next minute, he's casually threatening her. It seemed to her that Mark was pissed at himself for being so 'friendly' for those few minutes on the porch. So he was going to take it out on her.
And the biggest kick in the face of all...she felt sorry for him. For both of them. She could relate. Her own parents had died when she was in high school, killed when they had stopped at a convenience store at the wrong time. They had interrupted a hold-up and had been shot.
Rayne leaned forward, studying her face in the mirror. She looked like her mom. At least, she looked like her memory of her mom. She knew she had her dad's light hair. The urge to dye it had never happened, unlike Wynn, who seemed to sport a new color every week. Weird to have sentimental value on hair...but she couldn't help it.
Sighing, she tossed the comb toward the sink and gathered her things. What good was it to think about her parents now? She wasn't the one on some revenge mission...the cops who had responded to the robbery had shot the guy who had killed her parents. Shot him several times actually. Her father had been a police officer. When they recognized who it was that had been killed, his brother officers had...well...taken justice into their own hands.
"Enough with the memory lane shit," She said to herself. She didn't like to think about her parents. She'd end up crying. And crying would be showing Mark a weakness. He seemed to be looking for them. The asshole. She picked up her jeans and dug the cell phone out, then looked around.
It couldn't hurt to keep it...handy. She made sure the power was off, then tucked it into the cabinet under the sink. Satisfied, she opened the bathroom door and stepped out. Mark had his back to her, looking out the window. She sighed and tossed her clothes into a bag that Randy had brought up for her. What did he think she was going to do? Melt and escape down the drain or something? There was a novel idea. Ooze on out of here.
"What are you smiling about?" Mark asked, reminding her that he was still in the room. He'd turned to watch her as she packed her things.
"Sludge." The word caused him to crease his brow in a frown. Which made Rayne want to laugh. He'd said he'd kill her if she tried to run. That didn't mean that she couldn't aggravate the hell out of him while she was here. Sometimes being a smartass was the only weapon she had. "Where's the boy wonder?"
Mark eyed her, suspicious that she sounded so...upbeat...all of a sudden. "Gone shopping."
"Ah..." she zipped the bag up and tossed it into a corner. Then smoothed the T-shirt over her thighs. She'd have to remember to move carefully; she was going commando for the moment.
They stood there in silence for a few minutes. Rayne waited, wondering if he was going to start with the threats again. She'd had time to think. If he wanted revenge on his father so badly, he wouldn't risk killing her. He needed her. Not that he'd ever come out and admit it, but she wasn't stupid. It was probably killing him to admit it to himself.
"Well..." she finally broke the silence. She started toward the door. "I'm hungry. Since your resident chef is gone...I'm going to poke around the kitchen and see what you have to eat."
Mark nodded, watching as she disappeared into the hallway. It had been on the tip of his tongue to apologize for earlier. But he'd held back. He got the feeling that it wouldn't have helped anyway. She seemed to be regaining her equilibrium.
He finally moved toward the door. He had some things to take care of himself before night settled in. He had the feeling it was going to be a very long one.