Chapter 8

Margret pressed her hand to Ren's forehead. She let out a sigh and gave him a pitying look.

"You've done it now," she said while placing a towel wrapped around ice to his head.

She said that he's done it, but really, it wasn't him at all. If she only knew what he'd been through these past few days, she wouldn't have said anything at all.

He watched the ceiling fan turn on its own. How he didn't know. A breeze from the front door opening? Or was it his eyes playing tricks?

Craning his neck, he looked down at his hand. He'd smashed it under his weight when he fell. The pain had been nothing to what he'd been experiencing when the thing had controlled his body. There had been no registry at first. From the way his mom had yelled, it sounded like she'd been the one who fell.

His wrist was turning a light purple, but it didn't look too bad. After all, it could have been far worse. Any closer and he would have broken his neck on the coffee table. It was a good thing there had been a wide-open space for him to smack face-first into the floor.

"Thank God I was here when you fell." He turned to her. She gave a small smile. 

He returned it.

The second she turned, it fell. He thought back to what he'd found in her room. The glowing orb didn't ring any bells and he hadn't had the time to look at the journal. 

The thing controlling him had wanted that orb though. He didn't understand why it dropped its grip on him when it was about to get away. If it was going through all this trouble to get that thing, then why did it hesitant when his mom came around?

He held up his bruised hand to his face. With his other hand, he traced the outline of the bruise. A spark of pain jolted through his arm. It was faint, disappearing once he let up on the bruise. 

He narrowed his eyes. 

It was just another bad feeling. Though, to be frank, he thought he would be more freaked out about something controlling his body. 

He blinked, eyes widening, and then glanced over at his mom.

If that thing could control him with ease, did it mean it could control anyone? Would it use him to hurt his mom?

His hands clenched. They balled into fists even when his right hand hurt.

Just add that to the list of things he had to figure out. This week had turned into a complete shit show. 

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. The towel on his head made him feel ridiculous. This wasn't a job for him. He was a frail vampire who couldn't fight, knew nothing, and had no reason to be sought out by some supernatural force. There was no way he could solve all these problems stacking up against him.

The colors of the orb swirled in front of him. He furrowed his brows as the colors began to make shapes. They seemed to have a purpose, but he couldn't make out what any of it meant. It was just in his head.

He was starting to question everything around him. If these things were happening for a reason, what is actually an accident? Which ones have a purpose and which don't?

"Here."

He cracked his eyes open. His mom held out a mug toward him. He sat up and took it with both hands, careful to not drop it. The hot tea soothed the ache in his right hand. The throbbing had gone down some thought it was still swollen. It might be a while before he could use it on its own. He wasn't too worried. The only thing he did around here was school work.

The hardest thing he ever had to do in his life was bury and dig up a body.

He stared into the dark abyss of the tea. The steam wafted over his face. His eyes burned and he forced himself to blink.

"Is something wrong?"

His mom knelt beside him.

He shook his head. "Just…hit my head harder than I thought."

She patted his arm. "I'll go make you something to eat."

He watched her walk to the kitchen all the while thinking about the Hunters in the forest.

The glowing orb meant something to his mom. He couldn't ask her without her knowing that he'd gone snooping in her room. That would lead him to telling her about the thing controlling him.

And that would lead to him admitting that he'd always had some kind of urge to kill people. He didn't think that would go over so well.

He clenched the mug. It burned, but he didn't care.

What should he do? Ashton said to drop it and pretend as if nothing had happened. And was this thing connected to the girl's death? What would that mean? What did the orb mean and why did the thing want it?

The tea burned his tongue as he gulped it down.

He had to figure some things out before he brought his mom into this. If she didn't need to be a part of it he wanted to keep it that way.

***

The book was heavy in his hands. With his sore wrist, it was hard to hold it up so he propped it on his bent knees as he rested in bed. He slid his left hand under his head and turned to the contents page. The first few chapters were about broad topics like war and how vampires combated against humans. It was different in the sense that it wasn't overly biased against vampires. In textbooks, vampires were always painted as the ones to start the war and to be evil.

That was how he'd always viewed vampires up until he started doing research of his own. If it wasn't for school work, he didn't think he would have even thought about looking outside the classroom. Though the school library was small, it did have a few books that weren't too far up the government's ass. They were scarce, but he made do with what he had.

This book hopefully had some answers to his questions. The Hunter Society had dealt a lot with vampires back in the day, but they were known for burning witches too. Their motto went something along the lines of destroying the evil lurking in the human world. That meant anything supernatural was in danger from them.

They'd been ordered by the government to disband after the war. He learned there had been a couple times through the years that they'd tried to come back, but they never got off the ground after their first leader died. It had never hit him that they might be trying to come back again. He'd always thought they were a dead group of the past. Much like the Mantels after the war.

A chapter heading caught his eye.

Supernatural Artifacts

Right under it was a chapter titled: Supernatural Beings and Powers.

Neither of them were exactly what he was looking for, but he did want to know more about his heritage. Even if that heritage was tainted by the horrendous acts by his blood family or the aching need to murder people for no reason.

He flipped to the chapter about the artifacts and began to read.

Halfway through he started to think he should move to the next chapter. Though it was interesting to think that there was such a thing as vampire blood necklaces and coffins, they were all speculation. Besides, he couldn't really picture Ashton in a coffin. He also didn't wear jewelry by what Ren could see.

He skimmed through the rest of the page he was on and flipped to the next.

His heart dropped into his gut. He straightened up, hand shaking as he tried to comprehend what he was looking at.

It was obvious at first glance. The picture was an exact match, down to the engravings on the side. He gulped, his heart racing as he leaned over the book, scanning over the photo over and over again. It was impossible, unbelievable, but it was right there in his face. There was no way around it. This was the truth.

The picture was of an old ring enchanted by the first coven of witches that had settled in North America. The ring had unclear powers since it had never been located after the coven had been burned in the witch trials. It was said that the thing had fallen into the hands of another coven who lived in the forest, isolated from society.

The picture was of his grandfather's ring.

And below it was the picture of the orb that had been in his mom's bedroom.

For a second, he didn't know what to think. The picture staring back at him was all he needed to see to understand. He had a feeling there was something more to the ring, to the orb, and the thing controlling him, but he never thought he would find it in a book that he'd plucked from the library shelf. The thing he'd been searching for was about the Hunter Society and the death of the young girl. His intentions were simple. Find out what the Hunter Society was doing, what the girl had been doing in the forest, and possibly understand the thing trying to take over his body.

His hands were shaking and he had to set the book down. He took a deep breath, eyes locked onto the ceiling. Shadows from the setting sun danced across the white space, distracting him for just a second. He wanted to get lost in them. He didn't want to come back to reality and face the hard cold truth staring back at him. The thing had been leading him here, even if that wasn't its intention in the first place. Somehow, it seemed, he was meant to find this out. Though he didn't know what it meant, it was just another thing he had to figure out.

He then remembered that he had his mom's journal. 

The cover was worn down and the pages felt brittle. He grabbed it from his nightstand. As he cracked it open, he smelled his mom—her perfume—and an old smell that reminded him of being in the forest. His heart raced as he read the first page. There wasn't much of an interest in it. It was her name, Margret Cornelli, in looped letters. 

He turned to the next page and this time he was greeted by more looped letters. It was a recipe. Strawberry jam. 

He laughed. 

Again, he turned the page. He wasn't surprised when he found more recipes and more notes on things. There were a few journal entries that recalled about her day. He read them with a smile on his face, but soon, the entries became darker.

There were mentions of her father—his grandfather—falling sick. The entries became vague and then they took such a dark turn that Ren didn't know what he was reading.

Frantic, he sat up and scanned the words in a hurried manner. She became to talk about demons. His mouth dropped when she talked about visiting the Mantels. 

And then the real thing that hit him in the gut was a sketch of his grandfather's ring. On the opposite page was a large beast with read eyes.

Ren slammed the book shut.

He grabbed the other book and flipped it back open to the ring. He scanned the photo and description to find out any more information. As if fate were pulling a bad prank on him, the description for the orb looking thing was simple and sweet.

A Witch Artifact: Unknown

Fantastic. Fucking. Fantastic. 

His hands couldn't turn the pages fast enough. He read through the next few pages that talked about the other artifacts that had nothing to do with the ones he recognized. He didn't have the patience to memorize the rest of them, still reeling from the fact that his family had two of them and he'd managed to lose one of them. That wasn't including that his mom knew about the Mantels and had actually met them. 

He stared at the page for a moment, thinking over what he now knew. He couldn't believe it at first. How he had realized there was another part of him that wasn't human was understandable. However, he had yet again another problem on his hands.

He felt like a piece of him was slipping away. For his entire life, he'd been holding onto the fact that he was at least half-human. Vampires had done nothing but destroy his family. His father had gifted him with a curse that ruined his mom's life and his own. There was no place for him and he understood his father never cared. He was some vampire that strolled into town, took what he wanted, caused pain, and left as if the small town Montis never existed. 

Too many thoughts swarmed him. He battled against them, but they were too much to handle. He'd been running from them his entire life, enduring the comments of others for so long, and now he had to face them head-on. And the only thing he could ask the world was why him? Why was he the one being tortured?

It was as if the universe had a score to settle with him. Everything he did was met with a worse fate and anything he did to try and stop the destruction heading toward him only caused more problems.

With a sort of numbness settling over his body, he continued to go through the book until he hit the next chapter. Vampires, Witches, Hounds…

Once more, he paused at the pictures. The vampires were ghoulish, barely human. They had long fangs that protruded from their upper lips and hung down to their chins. The look was comical, horrific, and hellish at the same time. He wasn't scared of the picture. It was just a sketch of what humans thought of the vampire race, but he was disgusted. He didn't want to believe that kind of blood was in him.

He moved on to the next picture, hoping it would be better. It was. In a way.

The depiction of the Witch was a young woman wearing close to nothing but a cloak. She was shown seducing a kneeling man with her palm outstretched toward him. A light shined from her palm, the man's eyes locked on it. The woman wore a large grin, mischievous and most likely thinking about the way in which she was going to kill him.

Ren didn't know if the picture was true. He just knew that his mom wasn't like that. Up until now, he thought she was human. He hadn't seen a difference.

The last picture was of the Hounds. They were part demon, part human as the text described. 

It was the Hounds he'd never heard about before. After reading about them residing in Hell, he decided that was enough reading for the day. He learned something about artifacts, though he'd been set on finding more research on the Hunter Society. The books in the school library were no longer helpful. He just didn't know where else to look.

His next thought would be to look online, but the school could track anywhere he went. Besides, certain things weren't allowed to be publicly accessed in Reginae. He'd probably hit another wall and get a bunch of news about the HS being disbanded for over a hundred years.

He tossed the book somewhere on the floor. It landed with a thunk.

An eery feeling settled over him. 

Without a second thought, he bolted from his bed and changed into more suitable clothing. He pulled on thick jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and threw on a hoodie just in case. Around the room he went, gathering what he thought he might need. Flashlight, gloves, hat, and an old pocket knife he found in the attic. It had a symbol on it but the rust from a leak had made it hard to tell what it was. He had to fight to open it, but it would do if he encountered anything in the forest tonight.

Tugging his hat down to cover his ears, he thought once more about what he was going to do.

Reason won for a moment until it was squashed by the dire need to protect his mom and figure out the mess he was in.

These things, whether they made sense now, were part of something. If no one else was looking to solve them, the girl's murder most importantly, then there was only him.

He pulled on his gloves, slipped the flashlight and pocketknife into his jean pockets, and left for the forest. 

***

Ren was alone in the forest at night once again. This time he was prepared for a fight, his hand clenched tight on the knife in his pocket. 

Ashton had made it clear he didn't want to be a part of this and didn't want Ren anywhere near the dead girl. But a team vampire wasn't his biggest fear. Being framed for murder was.

The woods were easy to navigate. The flashlight wasn't bright enough to see farther than a foot.

He found his way to the clearing and noticed the boulder near where the body was buried.

His feet stopped there, in the middle of the jagged circle. He was going to do something incredibly stupid.

He was a Mantel though. And this was his place.

A chill swept through the forest. Ren's hoodie was no match for it and he shivered. The leaves rustled—what was left of them anyway. Most of them had already fallen. Every step he took was noisy. Anyone listening closely would be alerted. He expected Ashton to be here by now. The last two times he'd come at his own volition. And the last time, it seemed even more so that he'd been watching Ren. That feeling, like someone was tracing their fingertips up the back of his nape, was there again.

Hot aches—like burning coals—bloomed in his chest. The seconds ticked by and he feared he'd jumped to conclusions. There had really been no reason for Ashton to keep tabs on him any more. If he'd been paying close attention to Ren in the first place. 

It was all in his head. Messed up. Fucked up even because he couldn't think clearly these days.

But Ren wanted to get this over with.

So, instead of turning back, he opened his mouth.

"Ashton!"

The yell pierced through the quiet forest. He flinched, hand on his knife, scanning the forest. There was nothing. It was quiet as ever.

There had been another expectation from him then. He wanted Ashton to come racing like he did the night before. Ren didn't know what it was about Ashton that terrified him and drew him in at the same time. But his feelings were irrelevant. Ashton was the only one who knew the Hunter Society was forming again. He knew about the dead body.

And so it had made sense in Ren's head that Ashton should know about the thing that had taken control of Ren's body.

He hoped Ashton could help. But it was dawning on him as he stood in the middle of the forest where a killer was lurking, that asking a Mantel for help was the equivalent of selling his soul. Truth be told, he hoped it was only that bad.

"Ashton!"

He opened his mouth to yell again when he was shoved from behind.

The knife was ready in his hand and he turned with every intention of sticking the blade into the gut of the person behind him.

That was until he saw Ashton's piercing red eyes and a fiery look to go along with it.

"I should fucking beat the shit out of you for this!" Ashton snarled.

Ren backed up in surprise, still holding the knife out in front of him. Ashton looked down at it, batting it away like it was some toy. Ren let him do it, though he couldn't be sure if it was because he knew it was him or if it was from shock.

"What are you thinking?" He stalked up to Ren. Ren was too taken aback to do anything but stand in shock.

When Ashton was an inch away, Ren couldn't help the way his eyes fell to Ashton's lips. This wasn't the time or place for this, but the temptation to just lean in was too hard to resist.

He was a breath away and for whatever reason, Ren thought about taking the chance. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he batted it away, hoping it would be the last time he would think it.

"I need your help."

Ashton glared at him. His eyes flashed red for a brief second before it faded to their natural brown. The look he gave Ren after sent a chill through his body which he ignored as best as he could. The knife was still in his hand. He didn't think he would need to use it, but he didn't know Ashton that well. He barely knew him at all. He'd put his faith into him blindly only because he was the only person who knew what had happened and hadn't already killed him.

He could have let the Hunters find and kill Ren, but instead, he saved him. That had to count toward something.

They stood facing each other, watching, waiting. Ashton scanned Ren's face.

He rolled his eyes and turned away. "Go home."

"Wait!" Ren grabbed his arm.

He wiggled out from Ren's grasp. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I'm not going along with it. If you think what you saw was the worst of it, you're dead wrong."

"How—What do you mean?" Ren tried to grab his arm again. Ashton growled in frustration as they fought against each other. It was more like two toddlers fighting over a toy. Ashton slapped Ren's hand as he tried to touch him again.

"Will you cut it out?" He gave an exasperated sigh and grabbed both of Ren's hands, holding them up in front of Ren's face.

Ren was caught between wanting to be held down by Ashton and the want to push him away. Either choice would have been better than just looking at him. Ren didn't know what had gotten into him in these past few days. Ever since he met Ashton, it was like his life had been turned inside out.

Ashton held his stare, not once faltering when Ren couldn't say the same for himself. There was something about Ashton's eyes that made Ren uneasy. They looked past his physical form and right into the center of his being. He would have laughed if he was in any other position. It was the forest, the moonlight, and the way Ashton's hands tightened around Ren's wrists that made this unfunny. And though the thoughts filtering through his head were embarrassing, there was no other way to describe what was happening here, between them.

"Tell me what you know and I'll leave," Ren said.

Ashton's eyes flickered. "You're lying. You're bad at this."

Ren frowned, pursing his lips. "I'm not bad at lying."

"Yes, you are."

"Shut up."

He shook Ren's hands. "I'm not doing this with you. Go home before I do something I regret."

"I'm not scared of you." It was the way he was looking at Ren that made Ren sound so childish. He reacted without thinking, saying what was on his mind. It was all because he kept brushing Ren off like he was some speck.

The look on his face was one that crossed between being irritated and bursting out laughing. If Ren wasn't standing in the middle of the forest with a burnt body close by and he wasn't the one being laughed at, he might have partaken in the little joke. But he wasn't and he was a little pissed that none of what he was saying was getting through to this dip-shit.

"That ring," Ren hissed, giving Ashton a good shove to make a point. "Means a lot to my family. I need it back. And what about the murderer on the loose? The Hunter Society?"

He blinked. "What does any of that have to do with me?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out!" Ren gestured between them. "This might sound crazy, but we need to work together."

Ashton snorted. When Ren didn't say anything, he straightened up. "You're not kidding."

Ren shook his head. "If I tell you something, will you help me?"

Ashton narrowed his eyes. "I don't think you quite understand what I've been trying to tell you."

He stepped closer to Ren. "I don't want anything to do with you. I want nothing to do with the Hunter Society and if that means keeping shut about a murder then I'm going to do that. You should know better than to get mixed up with humans. They're the ones who'll cut you down."

There was an inclination that Ren should do exactly what Ashton was saying. Ashton wasn't the first person Ren would go for help, but it was that same reason that he had to. There was no one else he could turn to. Even a stranger was better than no one. And as stupid as it sounded, there was something pulling him toward Ashton in different ways.

Ashton turned to walk away.

"Wait."

Surprisingly, he stopped.

Ren hesitated with the words on the tip of his tongue. But he was too late. The thing came over him once more, stealing his strength and mobility.

Ashton turned, annoyed, and crossed his arms. It wasn't until then that Ren noticed how young he was. They were the same age and were nearly the same height, but it was the blatant anger directed at the entire world that made Ashton seem like a child.

"What?" He flat out asked, but Ren couldn't answer.

His body moved on its own, taking out the pocketknife he'd thought to carry to protect himself. He screamed inside his new prison, locked inside his mind. It was a warning to Ashton, but Ren knew it was futile in the end. Ashton couldn't hear him and there was no way to signal that he was in danger. 

Danger from Ren sounded like a joke in retrospect. There was nothing Ashton couldn't do that Ren could. But the thing in control of him had the act of surprise.

Ashton's eyebrows flew up as the knife sliced through the air. It missed him by an inch. He jumped out of the way, flinging his arm out to knock the knife out of Ren's hand.

"Excuse me?" He yelled in frustration. Ren would have thrown something just as snarky, but he was a little preoccupied with being possessed by another being.

He crouched down, knife held tightly in his hand. Their eyes met. Ashton's eyes flashed red and Ren could see the moment when he realized something was wrong. But he didn't let that faze him. He was calm and collected, more so than Ren could say for himself as he yelled and cursed at the thing holding him hostage.

He felt his lips turn up into a smirk and it was the most bizarre thing. The foreign feeling was made even more pronounced as he sprung up from the ground. He was mid-air, getting a boost of power from somewhere he didn't know and swiped down. The blade barely caught the sleeve of Ashton's white shirt.

Ren's eye deceived him for a second. He blinked and didn't catch that Ashton was now to the side. He turned to stab at him again, but just as the blade was about to make contact with him, he was behind Ren. The thing let out a growl as it twisted around. Its movements were becoming jagged, hasty, and out of control. It swung the knife in the air, not paying attention to where Ashton was or having a plan of attack.

Ashton appeared to the right. The thing didn't notice and was thrown off as Ashton grabbed Ren's right arm. Ren's hand clamped down on the handle of the knife as Ashton shook his arm to get him to drop it. Ren gritted his teeth. The movements of the thing were getting hard to differentiate from his own. It was becoming one big blur of limbs that he couldn't see what he really wanted to do.

Almost as fast as it started, the hold the thing had on him lifted. He staggered to the side and held up his hands. Ashton hadn't noticed the difference between him falling to the side and the thing trying to attack again. Ashton yanked him up, spinning him around so his back collided with Ashton's chest. Ren fought against him for a second before Ashton let him go. His ragged breath was all he could hear. His heart pounded in his ears. He gripped Ashton's arm with both his hands.

He choked. Ashton's arm grew tighter.

"I-It's me," he gasped out, hitting Ashton's arm with his open palm.

Ashton let go and Ren fell forward with a sharp gulp of air. He coughed out the itch in his throat, hands on his knees, and tried to get the feeling back in his body. The more the thing used him the more it was harder to get back into control of his body. In the few times that it had a hold of him, it was doing so much damage.

"I'll be taking this."

Ren turned to look at Ashton from the side. He pocketed the knife Ren brought along. Ren closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I didn't attack you."

Ashton raised a brow and snorted. "Really."

He crouched down in front of Ren. Again, Ren was hit with how beautiful he looked in this light. He averted his eyes and tried to catch his breath.

"This is the part where I tell you something and you don't believe me."

"Seeing how you attacked me, I'm willing to believe anything."

Ren bit the inside of his cheek. "You believe me when I say it wasn't me who attacked you?"

He didn't answer right away. Ren peered at him, wondering what he was thinking. His eyes were watching something in the distance. Another minute passed before he looked back at Ren. His hand dangled as he braced himself on the tips of his toes, arm balanced on his knee.

"Would it surprise you that I don't believe you're the attacking type?"

At first, Ren opened his mouth to argue that he was, or that he could be.

Ashton broke out in a smile.

"Tell me then," he said and stood up. "Who attacked me when it looked very much like you."

He held out the knife.

And it was like a switch had been flipped. Gone was the vampire who had it out for Ren. He guessed Ashton brought out the fangs and claws when they were talking about the dead girl and the HS. That made it seem like Ashton had more to do with this murder than he was letting on. Or what he'd told Ren when they first met.

Ren rubbed his eyes. They burned with tiredness, but he wasn't ready to go back now. There were still things he needed to pry from Ashton.

"It's hard to explain." He took the knife and pocketed it. "There's been…a thing."

"A thing." Ashton merely stared at him.

Ren swallowed down the fear of Ashton looking at him. "A thing that has been using my body."

Ashton continued to stare at him. Ren couldn't read him at all and it made his stomach twist uneasily.

"It started before we found her?"

Ren nodded.

"Sounds like a real problem for you."

He gave a half-hearted shrug and started to walk away.

Ren was stunned for a moment, watching as Ashton sauntered away into the direction he'd gone when he'd gotten the supplies to burn the girl's body.

Ren's legs wouldn't work at first. He stood there, mouth agape, as he tried to fumble for the right words to call out to him. In the end, Ren chased after him, cursing as he tripped over twigs and upturned dirt.

"This thing, it brought me there that night! It can't be a coincidence!" He stopped in front of Ashton, blocking his path. He looked around Ren as if he didn't notice that he was there. Ren frowned, fists clenching. "Listen to me. You're the only one I can think of to ask for help. I can't live like this."

"That's why you came here tonight?" Ashton's eyes finally drifted back to Ren.

Ren pressed his lips together. "There's a correlation. There has to be. What were you doing out here when it happened? Why was it us that stumbled upon her body?"

"Easy. It was a random occurrence." He shook his head. "What I was doing was irrelevant and none of your business."

The look he gave Ren was of pure annoyance. They were back to square one.

"Have you got nothing better to do than meddle in things that don't concern you? What is it that you're trying to prove?"

Ren was shaking. "Have you not been listening to what I've been saying—"

A high pitched roar broke out somewhere behind them. Ren spun around as another roar erupted, rocking his body from the inside out.

He couldn't move. All he could feel was fear taking over him, much like the thing that kept controlling his body like a puppet.

From the thick brush and trees, a black shadow appeared. It had thick black fur, red eyes, and when it opened its mouth, long rows of sharp teeth glinted in the moonlight. Black smoke coiled around its large legs. A tail swished at its back, striking the trees and ground as it moved toward them. Ren's eyes locked with its red ones and a deep growl came from its chest.

Like it was ripped straight from the page, Ren recognized the figure in an instant.

It was the Hound from the book and it was ready to kill.