13

The rest of the day passed slowly. Rayne's anger seemed to come from her in waves, but she held her tongue, refusing to speak to Randy. Mark did not try. He seemed to be avoiding her.

She was going crazy. They had no TV, no radio. There wasn't even a magazine to leaf through and pretend to read. And she couldn't go off the porch. She had tried, had walked down the steps, but found herself faltering before her feet could touch the actual ground. She remembered Mark circling the house, spreading salt. And she did not want to cross that line. Actually, it was more like she couldn't cross it. Her feet would not carry her that far.

She refused to eat. Randy had tried to offer her food several times, but she'd given him a look of such cold anger than he'd backed off each time, hands in the air.

And now here she was. Late afternoon. The sun was starting its drop in the west, and the light was spilling in through the bedroom window. Rayne was sitting on the floor in front of Mark's bed, staring ahead at the blank wall. This was an old trick Wynn's grandmother had taught her. Meditation, sort of. If she could concentrate, she would be able to look down at her hands and see her aura.

So she was concentrating. Or actually...trying not to think at all. Just gazing at the white wall, letting her eyes lose focus. She'd been sitting like this for more than half an hour, ignoring everything around her, just zeroing in on that one spot on the wall.

And it was working. She could actually feel her anger drain away. It was a useless rage; there was no reason for it. She'd just suddenly...snapped. That was not like her, not at all. But she could feel this burning...hatred...inside her and had wrestled with it all day long.

It did not help matters that Mark and Randy had been acting so...weird. Randy had circled her like a doting mother, worrying over her not eating. She wanted to slap him every time he came near her. As the day wore on it got harder and harder to control that impulse.

And Mark...she had no clue what was up with him. He'd gone out of his way to avoid her, but she'd caught him looking at her. Not just curious looks either. He looked...hungry. Needy. Shit. She had no clue what the hell that look was. But it was scary. And it only fueled the anger inside of her.

Rayne slowly brought her hands together and dropped her eyes, still keeping them unfocused. And saw red. She sighed and resumed looking at the wall. Red was definitely an angry color right now. She made herself picture blue things, blue seemed like a calmer color.

There were footsteps outside the bedroom door. She could sense someone hesitating just on the other side. She ignored him. After a few minutes, whoever it was went away. Probably Randy, wanting to annoy her with his buddy grins and pleas to eat...

Rayne sighed again. Damn it. There were those angry thoughts again. She'd have to start all over. Focusing on the wall, she pictured blue. Blue flowers. Ok. Blue water. That was good. Her own eyes were blue; well, indigo might be a better way to describe them. Oh...and Wynn's hair a couple of months ago...

She ventured a look at her hands. Now she could see blue. It was weird how that little meditation thing worked. She knew that she had to figure out where the sudden anger had come from. Maybe it was just the way Mark had grabbed her arm. His hand had been hot from holding on to his coffee mug. She rubbed her wrist without realizing that she had done it.

Whatever the reason, it was pointless, useless, a waste of energy. Rayne stood up and stretched, wincing at the numbness in her legs. She paced around the bedroom, moving until the blood was flowing back into her limbs. Ok. Now what?

She glanced around. She could go downstairs and see what those two were up to. She could go have another cigarette. The thought didn't much appeal to her. She'd gone from a pack a day to not wanting one at all in the space of a couple of days. Somebody should market getting kidnapped as a means to kicking the habit.

The bedroom door opened. She hadn't been paying attention, so she hadn't heard the footsteps this time. Rayne stopped pacing and looked at Mark as he stood in the doorway.

Mark had not wanted to go upstairs. Rayne's anger did not 'scare' him. If anything, he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. He'd sensed her strong will. It was amazing that Randy had kept her sedate for as long as he had.

Randy was gone again. Back into town for another long night. He would return in the morning, as was their routine. He had tried to pry details of the night before from Mark, but had not been successful. It was better that the younger demon did not involve himself too deeply in the matter, even though he had just as much reason to hate Dominic as Mark did.

As soon as he opened the door, he could sense the change in Rayne's attitude. She'd done what Randy had been trying all day to do. She seemed to have her anger in check. That was good. It might make this easier. He almost laughed. There was nothing easy about this situation.

"May I see your back?" Mark asked softly, finally breaking the silence between them. Rayne eyed him calmly. If she was surprised that he had asked, she did not show it.

Without a word, she turned and raised her shirt. Mark stepped closer, frowning. The mark had gotten bigger. The first six was almost complete. He had not been in time after all. He rubbed his hand down his face and heaved a sigh of frustration. Dominic had not had much of Rayne's mind, but he'd managed to tighten his grip anyway.

"What is it?" Rayne was looking over her shoulder.

"It's bigger." He turned and went to the bed to sit down.

"I still don't see it." She started to lower her shirt, then changed her mind and went into the bathroom. "There's nothing there."

"Only a demon would be able to see it." Mark said.

"Oh. Well. That's a comforting thought." Rayne came out of the bathroom and stood uncertainly in the middle of the room. "Uh...where is your friend?"

"Gone. Back into...town." Mark shrugged.

"And he'll be back..."

"In the morning most likely." Another shrug.

Rayne turned and walked toward the window. Great. Another night all alone with Mark. Not that Randy being there would have made it any better, but still...

Mark watched her. He did not have to read her mind to know that being alone with him was the last thing she wanted. He'd sent Randy on his way, assuring him that Dominic would not try again tonight. And Dominic would not. He would wait a day or two, gather his strength, and attack when Rayne's defenses were down. If he tried tonight...after the anger she'd had that day...it would be as useful as punching a brick wall. No...he knew his father well. He would bide his time.

And if he were to be truthful, Mark wanted Rayne to himself. He was suddenly...fascinated with her. He liked the flash and fire he'd seen today. And he had definitely liked being with her in her dream the night before. He wanted more. And she didn't know it yet, but she was going to give it to him.

He was part demon after all. He would not just take her; that was not his style. But he could...influence her a little. And he wanted to. And for once the side of him that was human, was...normal...was not protesting. After being with Pandora, sex with a mere human should seem...bland. Mark and Rayne had not even shared real physical sex and he already sensed it would be a hundred times better.