A Long Walk Home Ch. 04

Thanks so much for all the comments, votes and the speculations. Can't tell you the enjoyment I get out of reading the comments :-)

Okay this chapter is a lot more polished than the first three thanks to a very nice man called Peter who asked me if I needed a helping hand for the odd chapter. So many thanks for your time Peter. It's greatly appreciated. Any errors on posting up are my own as I tend to tinker with my edits :-)

Quick kiss to the Guild and my Tweeters because they rock!

Enjoy!

*

Dayton tidied up the remains of dinner as Rayne disappeared out of the gallery He didn't even bother objecting to her sudden departure. He was used to it. She might like her little picnic dinners but once she was sated she tended to vanish, leaving him with the debris. Over the years he had donated quite a few picnic hamper sets to various goodwill stores.

He stiffened suddenly and put the full hamper on the desk in the corner. As he turned to face the gallery door it opened, and the cause of his sudden tension framed the doorway.

He had caught the sweet scent of cherry blossom and knew instantly who it belonged to. As he stared at the vampire in his doorway he couldn't help wondering how someone so cold could have such a sweet scent. It just didn't match the woman before him. What the hell was she doing back in his gallery?

Freya stared at the wolf, her cold gaze flicking quickly over the man who had been on her mind most of the day. She honestly couldn't work out what it was about him that irritated her so much. The simple fact that he was a dog should have been enough to relegate him to the ranks of those beneath her notice, but it didn't.

She tried to eye him objectively, taking his species out of the equation. He was very tall, standing at six foot three inches. She liked tall men because she was almost six feet tall herself. The need to look down at a man automatically rendered him inferior in her mind.

He had a wild, untamed look about him which reminded her of a vampire in its feral state -- a state she relished. So that, she guessed, was a point in his favour. He did lack the inherent beauty of her kind but that wasn't exactly a negative; his male beauty was that of a wolf, rugged, wild and very, very hard. His wide shoulders and thickly muscled arms and thighs spoke of barely restrained power.

He moved with the predatory grace of an animal; dangerous, deadly and merciless -- all the things she admired in a male and so very seldom found in the one package. But it was his eyes that drew her the most. They were cold, dark blue pools of nothing. No emotion lurked there, no life at all. He carried the coldness of a vampire in his soul. He would have been better suited to her way of life than the one he found himself part of.

And yet the art work on the wall surrounding them called him a liar. It screamed of emotion, though the feelings it portrayed were the darker ones. Pain, suffering, agony, they all lived in the dark colours, the vivid reds intersecting the muddy browns and deep blacks. Looking at Dayton's art was like looking into the window of his soul. And hers.

Maybe that was why she wasn't able to stop thinking about him. Maybe it was because he painted her soul with such precision, such attention to detail, that she just couldn't stay away. Maybe it was because she recognised that they were two of a kind.

"I'm closed."

His words brought a slight curve to her lips as she stepped into the room properly and closed the door behind her. "I'm not here to buy," she answered coolly though she did start wandering around the room as if she were browsing each piece with the intent to buy.

Dayton wondered if it was wise to turn his back on the vampire. He had no idea what she wanted. She didn't appear to be in any hurry to leave, either. He was under no illusions: if she wanted to play with him she could do so quite easily. He was a strong wolf but no match for a vampire of Ancient status. A newborn Youngling he might stand a chance against, but not Freya Eriksson.

Still, she wasn't into mercy kills so he didn't think she was here to take his life. Not that he would have minded if she had been. His wolf growled loudly at the thought and he was surprised to find that the human part of himself actually objected too. Whereas before he wouldn't have cared one way or another if he was about to die, today, for some reason, he found a little spark of fight deep within himself. A small part of him actually gave a damn! It was quite astounding.

"What do you want, Freya?" he ground out, turning his back on her to retrieve the picnic basket. He headed towards the back office leaving her to her own devices. He could scent her following him and he wanted to growl his annoyance because under the sweetness of cherry blossom he could smell another scent, a very womanly scent. One that spoke of the beginnings of female arousal.

There was no denying that Freya was exquisitely beautiful. He knew that a night in her bed would be an experience of a lifetime; after all, she'd had centuries to perfect her sexual prowess. But there was just one major sticking point: she left him completely cold. He had no desire to touch her skin, to taste her sweetness or to slide into her delicious body. It was nothing personal. He just didn't desire any woman. The only one he wanted was Faith and she was dead.

Freya ran her eyes slowly down Dayton's back as she tried to keep her expression carefully neutral. Something strange had happened when he said her name for the first time. A slight shiver had whispered down her spine. Did he know who she was or was he simply just observant and had remembered Ashleigh saying her name? Whichever it was she just knew that she liked hearing it from his lips. She wondered idly what it would sound like whispered in her ear as he claimed her body.

Her footsteps almost faltered at the errant thought and the first stirrings of sexual attraction fluttering in her stomach. This was why she was here? She wanted to bed a dog? It was a preposterous thought no matter what pretty package the wolf wore. She would have to temper her pleasure to avoid hurting him and that would leave her unsatisfied. She didn't do gentleness; she gave complete rein to her passion. That would surely kill the wolf if she were to go there.

A slow smile curved her lips as she followed him into the office. She could always play with him just a little, just enough to get him to react to her as a woman. Maybe that would wipe from her psyche the insult he had paid her by looking right through her; then she could go back to her own life, free from such a distraction.

"I asked you what you wanted," he reminded her, dropping the hamper onto his desk and turning to look at her with cold, flat eyes.

Her smile widened as she slowly approached him until there were barely a handful of inches between them. "You," she answered very softly, reaching a finger up to trace his clenched jaw in a light caress. He stiffened instantly and backed away from her, a low growl coming from his lips.

"Don't touch me." It was uttered in such a harsh, deadly tone that her eyebrows rose in surprise, though the smile didn't leave her lips.

"You didn't have any objections to your cat touching you," she remarked coldly, as her anger was reignited by the memory of the other woman touching him. She knew there was something unusual in her reaction but was too engrossed in her current game to examine it.

"Such a pretty kitty cat," she mused softly, her gaze boring into his for any sign of reaction. "They say cats have nine lives," she laughed softly. "Obviously, whoever came up with that little saying wasn't aware that vampires walk the world. I've found they truly only have one."

Dayton caught the implied threat in her tone and his fury ignited like a hot furnace. The moment she touched him, rage began riding him hard. When she threatened Rayne the rage soared and his control snapped. He was moving without even thinking about it, wrapping his big hand around her throat and pressing her hard against the wall.

"Go near her and I will kill you," he ground out through clenched teeth, his eyes blazing as they bored into her. "Come near me again and I will kill you."

Freya laughed loudly, letting him have the upper hand, delighting in his show of male dominance even though they both knew the only reason he had her pinned was because she allowed it. His empty threats of death were precisely that. She could kill him a thousand times over before he even got close to hurting her.

She felt her lust flare deep within her as he tried to cut off her laughter by crushing her throat. This wolf was just utterly divine and she had to have a taste of him, just a little, tiny taste. She could control her natural instincts enough--she was almost certain of that.

With the speed only an Ancient was capable of, she reversed their positions in less that a heartbeat, pinning the furious male to the wall with one hand around his throat. His own hand still gripped hers tightly but she liked that so she allowed him to do so. Very carefully she elongated a talon and brought it to his neck. He froze instantly, his hand dropping away from her.

"Naughty doggie," she sighed softly, leaning forward to inhale his scent deeply. He smelled of the forest, rich and earthy and oh so masculine. Her fangs threatened to come out and she wondered just how much control she really had over her feral side at the moment. Even as she wondered she shifted her grip on his neck and ran a talon ever so lightly against the side.

He kicked out at her as she opened up his flesh but she pressed her body hard against his, ignoring his struggles as the scent of his blood filled the room and her mouth watered at the heavenly fragrance. His hands went to her hair and he pulled hard to stop her from leaning forward but it was a futile gesture. One taste: that was all she wanted.

Freya leaned forward and ran her tongue slowly along the long thin cut in his neck. A deep moan escaped her lips as his succulent essence exploded in her mouth causing her fangs to drop instinctively. He tasted so good, so thick, so rich and heady that it took everything in her not to bite down on his flesh and drink deeply. Instead she sipped slowly, allowing the wound to heal as she licked at him.

It had been a mere sip, but it sparked another hunger deep within her as she pulled her head back and licked her lips slowly. Her gaze focused on his lips, lust spiralling through her body. He had other delicious attributes she wanted to taste and she knew he wouldn't give those up any more freely than he had just given up his blood.

Dayton's heart was pounding wildly, loud growls coming from his chest as he struggled against the vampire. If he hadn't been fighting so hard he probably would have been amazed that he was actually fighting at all for his life. But he was.

When Freya cut his neck and he realised she intended to drink from him, the need to survive suddenly kicked in and he reacted instinctively. Despite everything he had long believed he realised that he wasn't ready to die. And he sure as hell wasn't going to spend his last moments being a meal to a fucking bitch of a vampire.

He could feel his blood flowing down his neck; could see the feral gleam in Freya's eyes. She was going to bite him and when she did her venom would kill him instantly. He thought of Faith... then he thought of his family, to whom he hadn't spoken for so long. They would be devastated. His heart twisted painfully and a deep well of pain rose up inside of him. He would never have the chance to return home, to talk with Cedar and Aaron, his parents, Connor, Willow and Brody. Their last memories of him would be of how he had rejected them.

Freya's tongue licked his neck and he froze instantly. Holding his breath he waited for the inevitable, for her fangs to sink deep and take his life. They didn't though; instead the rasp of her tongue lapping slowly against his skin provoked a fury such as he'd never experienced in all his life. She had no right to take what he didn't give freely. She had no right to breathe against his skin, to cause a shiver of something he didn't want to examine to run through his body.

His eyes were full of hate as he stared down at the vampire and watched her lick his blood from her lips as if it was the sweetest thing she had ever tasted. "Get your hands off of me," he bit out furiously.

"I'm not finished playing yet, Dayton," she laughed softly running her talon slowly against his neck once more, though being careful not to cut him once more. She didn't trust herself to stay in control a second time if she tasted him again. "You taste delicious. Maybe I want some more?"

She arched a perfect eyebrow at him, cold hard amusement dancing across her exquisite face and he hated her a little bit more. She was playing with him just because she could. She had no morals, no decency; she was a vampire in every sense of the word. "You disgust me," he finally said, cold fury holding him still as rigidly as she was.

Freya smiled slowly. "Seeing as I'm damned in your eyes anyway," she laughed again.

He had no chance to try and move away as her mouth covered his. His entire body went rigid with shock when she kissed him. His soul screamed his denial; the wall around his heart came tumbling down and every emotion he'd ever contained rose up and overwhelmed him.

Her lips were so soft against his, gentle even as she teased and coaxed at him for a response he refused to give her. He wanted to weep as she did the one thing that was guaranteed to cause him the deepest agony. She took away the memory of what it felt like to have Faith's lips against his. She not only took it away but she replaced it with the memory of what her own lips felt like brushing against him. He couldn't stand it, couldn't bear the touch of her softness against him as his entire body suddenly started to register her as woman.

"Don't." It was a whispered plea, wrenched out of the very heart of him against his will but it hung in the air between them as the vampire froze in place.

The word whispered through Freya's lust but it wasn't the word that halted her, it was the emotion within it. The lust receded slowly and she pulled back to look into a pair of blue eyes that was suddenly mirrors of untold anguish, waves of agony dancing across them. She looked into those eyes and something broke inside her. She had seen eyes with that expression before, so very long ago.

Slowly she released him and took a step back, all the while unable to look away from the pain in his expression. She had wanted to see some emotion in his eyes but now she'd achieved it she wanted it to go away. She wanted his cold, hard mask to come back because his gaze was dredging up memories she didn't want to have to explore again. She didn't want to remember looking at herself in the mirror on the day she had been turned to this life of a vampire. She didn't want to see her own agony reflected back at her the way he was now doing.

"Damn you to hell," she hissed, raw pain in her voice as she turned and vanished from the gallery, running so fast that she was miles away in a matter of seconds.

Dayton could only lean against the wall, trying to control the tremors that were wracking through his body hard. Freya had just broken him as no one else had been able to do and he was reeling from the emotions coursing through him. The agony of losing Faith was there; it always was, but now there was fresh pain, a new anguish that threatened to overwhelm him completely.

In his need to protect himself he had hurt everyone he loved. He could only imagine the pain he had put his family through and yet they had never condemned him for it. They had kept loving him, kept hoping for him to come home to them. And he had stayed away because he was too much of a coward to deal with life without Faith.

His pain was tempered by his fury at the vampire. She had managed to break down his barriers and he hated her for it. She had made him feel again. She had touched him, sullied his memories of Faith and he knew he would hate her until his dying day for taking those precious memories from him.

He was smart enough to know that she wasn't the only reason his barriers had crumbled. He knew Rayne had played a large part in it too, that Aaron's communications also played a role in it, that seeing the pack that morning had further weakened his shields.

But it had been the vampire's kiss that had forced him to beg and that he just couldn't tolerate. He was just a toy to her, a plaything for her to use and then discard when she became bored. Something he had said had gotten through to her. Her words sounded once more in his head and he heard the inflection of pain in them. The memory of her eyes came back to him and he focused on it; then he realised that her eyes had been a mirror of his own, full of anguish.

Dayton pushed away from the wall, his face hardening into a tight mask as he realised that something in Freya's past had hurt her as badly as Faith's death had hurt him. He was glad. He fervently hoped that her vampiric memory replayed that hurt daily and caused her pain beyond bearing.

It was a fitting punishment for what she had just done to him. He had never truly hated anyone in his life before but he did now. He hated a beautiful, feral vampire called Freya Eriksson and he wished her the damnation of hell for the rest of her long life.

*****

"I need you to come with me," Dayton announced, closing up the gallery and locking the door behind him.

Rayne blinked slowly, sensing that he was holding himself very tightly under control. He was so tense he was almost ready to snap, something she wasn't used to seeing in him. She wondered whether to ask and then opted not to. He would talk when he was ready.

Leaning against the side of his Jeep she watched him intently as he turned to face her. "Where are we going?"

Dayton stared at Rayne for a long moment as he worked through the chaotic thoughts in his head. He absentmindedly took in her appearance, some of the tension leaving his big body as his lips curled slightly. Her lithe form was encased in her customary black pants and boots with matching leather jacket but she'd brought a splash of colour with the jade green basque she was wearing. Her long black hair was loose today and shimmered down her back in silky waves.

He was amazed to find that he was actually admiring her lush curves, was actually viewing her as the sensual woman she was. He knew whose fault that was and it only served to increase the cold rage which had been the dominant emotion he'd been feeling since Freya left the night before.

"There was a threat to your life last night," he finally answered, moving to unlock the Jeep so they could both climb in. He started the engine before he turned to look at her. Typically she was smiling softly. That was so like Rayne. He'd just told her there was a threat to her life and she found it amusing. She had no sense of self preservation sometimes. A pissed-off Ancient wasn't something to smile about; even he knew that.

He had spent most of the night lying awake, trying to decide what to do about Freya Eriksson. He knew she would be back. She was a cold-hearted bitch and she wouldn't give up her new toy until she was good and ready. That left him with few choices. He could go to Ashleigh and her mate; they could maybe talk to Freya, but there was a chance he would see her there and he wasn't ready for that.

He knew he needed some kind of protection from the Ancient. He was too isolated as he currently was, and Rayne's safety was in jeopardy too because she was isolated with him. His Beta instincts had finally kicked in and he'd realised that the only route to safety was to go pack again.