Epilogue

Rayne opened her eyes, feeling her head throb, blinking against the harsh light of the early morning sun. She struggled to sit up, wincing at the pounding in her head.

And then she remember. Mark! Her eyes flew open and she made to get out of the...bed...

Confused, she looked around. She was in her bed, in her room, at her house. The familiar cream colored walls, the furniture, the odds and ends...

"What...the...hell..." Her throat was scratchy, dry. One minute she had been on the floor, holding Mark's head in her lap as he had died. The next she was here, in bed.

How the hell had she gotten home? Had she done Mark's trick and teleported herself, or whatever it was called? She couldn't remember. She did remember the struggle with Dominic, the feel of Randy's blood on her hands, the last words Mark had spoken to her before his eyes had closed for the last time...

She pushed into a sitting position, jumping when the telephone next to the bed trilled. She grabbed it, muttering a scratchy 'Hello'.

"Woman!" Wynn's voice, full of energy for so early in the morning, grated on her pounding head. "What the hell was that weird message on my cell phone for? That's a screwed up prank, even for a doofus like you."

"Wynn? What message?" Rayne struggled to clear her foggy mind.

"You called last night, told me you were in trouble and to leave a message on your voice mail. I about freaked out!" She sounded hyper happy. Rayne knew if she were close by she would probably have to smack her.

"Uh..." She remembered making the call. From Mark's house. But that was days ago. Lifetimes ago even. "Wynn...what did we do last night?"

Wynn laughed merrily. "Don't tell me you don't remember. I told you to go easy on that Maker's Mark shit."

"Huh?"

"You got wasted. Last time I saw you, you were dancing...err...stumbling around the dance floor with that huge biker wannabe you were hitting on." She laughed again. "Getting pretty snuggly with him by the looks of it." She giggled. "I got a ride home from that cute little friend of his. He's got the most amazing butt on him..."

"Randy."

"Yeah! I'm shocked you remembered his name."

"How did I get home?"

"I have no idea. By the time I was ready to go, you were already gone, leaving me weird ass messages on my cell phone." Wynn laughed again. Rayne made a mental note to punch her friend for being so damn jolly in the morning. It was sickening.

"Look...I am going to wake up and I'll call you back." She didn't wait for an answer before hanging up. Nothing made sense, none of it. She'd been gone for days, but Wynn was talking as if their trip to the club had just happened a few hours ago.

The bed shifted, making her jump. "That your friend with the odd hair?" A deep voice asked. Rayne scrambled off the bed and turned, staring down at the man who lay there.

It was Mark. But not...Mark. His hair was short. That was the first thing she noticed. His eyes were still that piercing shade of green though. She eyed him warily.

"What...how..." She cleared her throat. "What are you doing here?"

He rolled onto his side, an amused look on his face. "You asked me to stay, remember?" He reached out for her hand and pulled her back down to sit next to him on the bed. She did not resist. She was too confused to put up a fight. "You were drunk, out of it, I brought you here and you said you didn't want to be by yourself. I was feeling kind of lit myself, so..." he gestured, as if that explained everything. Rayne could not take her eyes from him. Just a few minutes ago he'd been dead.

"I'm sorry...I just..." She paused. Her back was itching. She reached around to scratch it and encountered something under her nightshirt. She winced. "What the hell..."

"Guess you don't remember that either," Mark said with a laugh. He sat up, the sheet pooling in his lap. Rayne found herself looking at his chest, picturing the fatal wound that had been there only a short while ago.

"Remember what?" Short of raising her shirt in front of him, she couldn't do more than gingerly touch the edges of what felt like a bandage.

"Getting a tattoo. Said you liked mine, so you talked me into taking you to my guy to get it done," He motioned her to turn. "Come on, take the bandage off and give it some air. It probably needs some cream on it too..."

Rayne got up, legs wobbling. "I can do it myself..." she said, heading for the bathroom. Her head protested the short walk. Screw it. She'd get over it.

She stood with her back to the bathroom mirror and lifted the shirt, then pulled at the bandage. It came off, making her wince. Her eyes widened when she twisted enough to see what was on her back. The mark. Mark's symbol. The dancing skeleton.

"What the fuck is going on?" She whispered.

"You wanted one like mine. See?" Mark had gotten up, and was standing in the doorway, a crooked smile on his face. He turned and bent a little so she could see the tattoo on the back of his neck. The exact same one that was on her back...

She realized she was holding her shirt up, exposing herself to some strange man, and dropped it quickly. "I am sorry. I am just...very confused right now."

"That makes two of us," Mark said, turning to smile at her again.

"Did we...uh...did you and I..." She mentally kicked herself. Why couldn't she just come out and ask?

"I don't want to lie to you and have you remember later..." Mark said slowly. "Yeah. Uh...a couple of times."

"Oh God..." She put her hands against her head, then looked at him. "Oh...I'm sorry. I don't mean...it's not that..."

Mark was laughing. "I understand where you're coming from. Truth be told...I was more than a little drunk myself. First time I've ever done anything like this. I do remember telling you that last night."

"Yeah." She remembered him telling her that to. That he'd never been with a human woman. She met his eyes. "Is your father's name Dominic?"

"Yeah. You remembered that much?" He laughed again. "I barely mentioned him. All I said was he had taken my mom and brother with him on a trip. I had to miss out for Randy's birthday party. Not that I'm going to complain. All three of them and me at once, it's like demons running loose. Like..." He noticed the look on her face. "Hey...are you all right? Look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine..." She said quickly, taking a deep breath. "Did you actually say that to me? About demons?"

"Probably. Randy or I, either one. It's kind of a running joke with us..." He frowned in concern. "You sure you're Ok?"

Rayne felt like she couldn't enough air. It all added up. The cell phone, the demons, the mother and brother gone...

"Was there a woman there last night? Dark hair, all in red?" She asked.

"Dora? Yeah. She's always hanging around. I think she's got some kind of crush on me. You pointed it out," He was laughing again. "Clingy sometimes, but she's harmless. She got drunk and left with the bouncer." He shrugged.

Dora. Pandora. God...her mind was twisted. "Look...I don't know what happened last night, but I have had the most...the strangest damn dream..."

She stopped. Why the hell was she trying to explain it to some strange man in her bathroom? He looked amused. She studied him carefully. He was alive. Alive and standing right there in her house. She went forward and put her arms around him, hearing him chuckle a little.

"I thought this morning after stuff was going to be kinda awkward, but this is totally unexpected," He said wryly. But he wrapped his arms around her anyway. She sighed as he hugged her close.

"You have no idea." Rayne said. She sniffled against his chest.

"Hey..." his voice took on that concerned tone again. "Look...don't cry, all right?"

"I'm Ok," Rayne said, trying to reign it in. She wiped at her eyes and pulled back to look at him. "I just...I thought you were dead."

Mark looked incredulous. "Sweetheart, I was drunk but I wasn't that bad. At least, I hope I wasn't."

Rayne laughed at him. "I'm not making sense. I know I'm not. Trust me, I'm not usually like this..."

"Yeah?" He cocked his head. "That's good. You getting hysterical on me might sway me from staying over again." She smiled at him. That was good. She had such a beautiful smile.

She suddenly turned bashful. "Uh...I can make breakfast. If you're hungry. If you want to...stay a while."

Mark nodded. "I'd like that. I kinda want to start all over. Sober this time." She laughed again and moved around him heading for the bedroom door.

Mark watched her go, then went into the bedroom to get dressed. He picked up his black leather pants and tugged them on, grimacing as the pack of cigarettes in the pocket gouged his hip.

He pulled them out and picked one, then looked at the tip. It flared up, sending smoke into the air. He smiled, taking a drag from it, then headed toward the bedroom door and Rayne.