21
Rayne moved sideways, wanting to angle herself so she could make an escape if the chance presented itself. Dominic tracked her movements, smiling a bit. "It will do no good to run. I would enjoy hunting you. And it would make your death that much worse..."
She couldn't help it. She rolled her eyes. "Are all of you demons so fucking melodramatic?" His eyes widened, then narrowed. Good. She wanted him to be good and angry. Angry people made mistakes. "I mean...honestly. Death, maiming...can't you just talk about the fucking weather or something?"
Dominic sneered at her. Rayne had the insane urge to laugh at him. She was scared to the point of almost not thinking at all, which was bad. Angry people made mistakes, frightened people paid for them.
He made a lunge for her, seeing if she would react. To her credit, she barely flinched. He smiled briefly.
"I see that you do have such spirit..." His voice was syrupy. "It will be my great pleasure to break it. To reclaim what my son stole from me." He laughed. "You don't even have to be willing now. I can just...take you. You might find that you enjoy the pain. Some do."
"What the hell ever, asshole," Rayne said through clenched teeth. "Why don't you just pay for a whore's services and leave me alone? You can't have me. You can never have me. I bet that's just eating at you right now."
She saw his eyes flash a baleful red color. Again she felt like laughing. At least demons and humans had one thing in common. They couldn't stand to lose.
"I made love to your son," She told him. She was sure he already knew, but she wanted to rub it in. "He made it good for me. I wouldn't mind if he did it again. And again."
That had even more of an effect that she'd hoped for. The pretense of control was gone. He snarled at her and lunged again, this time meaning business. Rayne dodged to the left. He missed by bare inches.
"I bet you have a small dick." She said with a laugh. "Isn't that typical rapist? Overcompensating with power what they lack in the pelvis. Can't say that Mark has that problem..." He lunged again, his fingers brushing the fabric of her shirt. Rayne managed to move before he could find purchase. "Come on you fucking pansy! What the hell are you waiting for?"
Dominic came at her again, full steam, leaping across the distance that separated them. Rayne saw it coming and sidestepped again and watched as he landed where she had been standing. He did not stop his forward momentum, he kept going, swinging around to try again.
Rayne saw the door open out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she moved in that direction, grabbing the door as it swung open, yanking it out of Randy's hand. She threw it open with all of her strength just as Dominic came at her again. She heard the satisfying crunch as the wood slammed into his face, breaking his nose. He dropped to his knees, hands going up to feel the damage.
Rayne took her eyes from him and looked at Randy...then gasped in horror. It looked as if his chest were melting. If she looked close enough, and she did not want to, she could see the bone, the internal organs...
She looked into his eyes. She could see the pain there, the agony. But he fought it back, flashing her that bright, boyish grin before losing his balance and falling to the floor.
"No!" She went to his, rolling him onto his back, afraid to touch him. "Randy!" His eyes fluttered once, but that was it. She sobbed, touching his face with her fingers. It was her fault. All her fault. She looked at her hand. It was bloody; Randy's blood was seeping out of the wound in his chest, covering her. She gently touched his face one last time, then started to stand...
And was snatched backward by her hair. She screamed in pain, twisting in Dominic's grip, trying to turn so she could fight him off. He was laughing. "Poor, poor Randy. I don't think that my son has faired any better, do you?" He hissed out. He jerked her body backward into his, his broken nose against her neck. She could feel his blood dripping onto her skin and shuddered in revulsion.
"Looks like the game is over, my sweet." He said softly. Rayne closed her eyes, waiting for the blow...
And yelped in surprise when Dominic screamed in pain into her ear. She was jerked backward again, roughly, then released. Falling to her knees, swiping at the blood on her neck, she turned to see what had happened.
Mark stood behind his father, his face a mask of fury. He'd gone through the backdoor, stopping in the kitchen to grab the biggest knife they had. When he'd come into the living room, had seen Dominic rubbing Rayne's neck, he had seen red. He'd silently come forward, ramming the knife to the hilt into his father's back, then grabbing his hair and pulling him away from Rayne.
He let out a growl of strain and lifted on the knife, picking Dominic up off his feet, dangling him in the air. With a wordless cry he suddenly let go, forcefully throwing his father to the floor. Dominic wheezed, trying to reach over his shoulder to pull out the knife. Making sounds of pain he pushed to his hands and knees then shakily rose to his feet. He wavered, still trying for the knife.
His eyes fell on Mark. "You...can't...do this..." He manage to say. His voice was weak. Mark stepped forward. He was going to finish it, the same way he had finished Pandora.
Rayne watched, her eyes widening. "Mark...No!" She screamed it but was too late. Mark had been too caught up in his anger. The mistake thing. While the knife had hurt Dominic, it wasn't nearly enough to stop him for long. She saw his expression change from outright agony to sly deceptive smile.
She was on her feet, but not fast enough, not nearly fast enough. Dominic's hand shot out lightening quick, the fingers disappearing into Mark's chest. Mark uttered one grunt of pain, eyes widening in surprise. Dominic pulled his hand back, looking at the blood that covered it, smiling in satisfaction.
"It is what I should have done long ago, boy." He watched as Mark crumpled to the ground, blood pouring from the hole in his chest. Dominic smiled and turned to face Rayne.
And froze. She was standing there, staring at him. But not staring at him. As if she were seeing through him. Dominic took a step toward her and stopped, confused.
"You shouldn't have come here." She said. Her voice was not hers. It was oddly familiar.
"I am claiming what is mine."
"And I shall claim...my own." Rayne's eyes changed color. They turned a sharp, hard green. Dominic's smile froze on his lips.
"Celeste?"
"It's over for you, Dominic. Over." The tone was cold and final. They eyes changed back from green to indigo. Rayne swung her arm toward him, feeling all of it, all of the anger, the fear, the despair, everything she had felt in the last few days. She used it, putting it all into one fatal blow.
Dominic did not flare up as the cigarette had. He incinerated, combusted. One minute he was standing there, a vague man-shaped wall of fire, then next there was nothing but a pile of ashes on the floor with a charred knife in the middle of it all.
Rayne collapsed to her knees again, drained, as if she'd just spent the day running flat out. The force she'd put behind that fireball...or whatever it had been...
With a sound of protest, she forced herself to crawl forward. To Mark. He lay on his back on the floor, trying to breath. She could see there was nothing she could do for him either. His skin was getting pale. He was getting cold.
"Mark?" She whispered it, not trusting her voice.
"Rayne..." his voice was lower than hers. She had to strain to hear him.
"It's all right. It's over." She carefully lifted his head, holding him in her lap. He managed a smile.
"Good...tired..."
"Mark? Come on, don't...don't leave me..."
"I saw...my...mother..." He managed to say. His eyes focused on her for a moment. "You...look...like...her..."
Rayne started crying. His mother. Somehow, she had come to Rayne when she needed her. "Oh, Mark. I am so sorry. I should have..." he raised his hand, displaying Herculean effort at doing just that. His palm cupped her cheek.
"Protecting...you..." he whispered. "Told...you..."
Rayne smiled through her tears. "Yes." She watched as he blinked once, twice. His eyes lost focus. "Mark..." she whispered. His eyes slid shut. He was gone. Rayne started sobbing, ducking her head and hugging him against her. "I'm sorry Mark. I'm sorry..." she choked the words out between sobs, dropping kisses on his forehead, his cheeks.
She had no idea how long she sat there, holding him. Her eyes wandered the room, looking at Randy's prone form, at the ashes on the floor. It was over.
She gently laid Mark's head on the floor, then kissed her finger tips and pressed them against his lips. Slowly she got to her feet, her legs not wanting to support her. She was empty, drained. She had to get out of here, away from all of this death. Before the thought had formed, a wave of dizziness struck her. She reached out, meaning to use the wall for support but she couldn't hold herself up. She fainted, falling to the floor, out before she ever made impact.