Ren laid on his side, staring at the bedroom door. He threw off his blankets, too hot with the heater on, but still cold enough to get goosebumps. He didn't want to get up. He needed to get up. He was going to be late. His mom had already taken off. She'd said her goodbyes before he was awake enough to argue with her. She knew what she was doing. She just didn't want to deal with his grumpy attitude before work.
He really couldn't blame her.
Everything had gone down hill since the night he met Ashton. Though, could he really blame it all on that? Things had been going down since the beginning. He felt like he was going in circles. He was in a rut, always thinking how much his mom was sacrificing for him. She wouldn't listen to any of his solutions. As much as he wanted to help, nothing was working.
With a heavy sigh, he sat up. He scratched his stomach. He looked around his room without really seeing it. Another day. He didn't want to think about how he would have to deal with the kids at school. For a second, he thought about skipping, but Ashton was going to meet him after. He might as well just go. At least then he wouldn't feel guilty about wasting his mom's money.
The cost of school in Reginae was fucking ridiculous. Especially when it wasn't going to get him a better job than he could already get.
He pulled himself out of his warm bed. He downed a bottle of synthetic blood and pulled out five dollars. He quickly got dress, throwing on whatever he had clean in his drawers, grabbed his bag and ran downstairs. He tossed the bill on the couch before shrugging on his jacket.
The morning air was crisp, clear, but freezing. His eyes became itchy and dry from the harsh treatment. He ignored the pain, locking the front door, and heading down the same path he took everyday.
Nothing was different. He arrived to school, he waited in the same spot he always did—listening to the other students joke and play around—and then went to first period. He wished the day would go by in a blur, that he could go numb to everything, but it wasn't that easy. He was tortured by how slow the day was going. While he'll forget these pointless days in the future, it wasn't soon enough. The agonizing feeling of being gawked, mocked, and being ostracized was going to stick with him for too long.
The day wasn't going as bad as it could have been. Currently, he was jogging back and forth in the gym. He wasn't the slowest in the class, but he wasn't the fastest either. While the other boys were pushing themselves—almost passing out—he kept his breathing steady and tried to have an out of body experience.
His mind was going blank, mindlessly doing what Coach Harris was telling him. Coach Harris didn't give a fuck about Ren and Ren didn't give a fuck about him.
But things soon went to shit when Regan bumped shoulders with Ren on the way to the water fountain.
Ren always thought they needed to put more fountains in the gym. One for forty teenage boys shoved into a forty-five minute time block wasn't enough. There was always a fight breaking out over who got to be first in line.
Regan shoved Ren with a disgusted look on his face. His less than pleasant friends—Sam and Ollie—were with him. They pulled the I-just-smelled-shit face.
"Can you watching where you're going?"
Ren stood there. He wasn't going to give them more of a reason to come after him. They would get bored soon enough. There was only so much whining Regan could do before even he got annoyed by his complaints.
"Fucking fag," he said before turning. He only got a few steps away before Darrien stepped in his path.
He had one brow raised. "Come again?"
As if possible, Regan looked even more disgusted. "Oh fuck off will you?"
Darrien gave Regan the side eye, but that was it. Regan got away, heading to the fountain. Sam and Ollie didn't stick around. They dispersed as if they had merely been there to spectate the pending fighting between Ren and Regan.
No one else in the gym had really noticed the small confrontation. Or if they had, they didn't care. Ren wouldn't find it hard to believe that everyone was turning a blind eye to what was happening to him. He'd been dealing with the same shit for so long sometimes it felt like it was suppose to be this way.
Darrien slowly turned from looking at Regan to Ren. He opened his mouth to say something.
But Ren didn't want to hear it.
He ran away, not caring if it was rude or that Darrien would be the next one to terrorize him. He just wanted to run away from everything.
If only it were that simple.
***
It wasn't easy to forget he was a vampire and that everyone in town hated him. It wasn't easy to forget his father was a rapist and that the whole reason his mom was living the way she was was because she was too kind to kill the monster leaching off her. It wasn't even easy to believe he could change the future. He already knew how his life was going to play out. He was going to become a miserable fuck, sending money to his mom, and awaiting the day he just bit the dust. He hadn't thought about dreams, love, or anything remotely silly like that.
He had to focus solely on getting out of this town before someone decided to put a bullet between his eyes.
But he never counted on his mom having her own secrets. She knew the Mantels long before he was born. She was a witch. His grandparents were witches.
He thought it was funny she could be a hypocrite—hiding critical things away from him—and she accused him of being awful for hiding one thing away. Going to the Mines was going to be the best for all of them, but what did hiding the fact that he was a witch do anything for him?
Now he had to worry someone could find that out. Witches were just as bad as vampires. Possibly even worse in the eyes of humans. Witches were deceiving creatures who stole children, ate men, and slaughtered anyone just for the fun of it. In simple terms, they were nothing more than savages. They lived in the wastelands, the parts of North America that had been deemed inhabitable.
He was thinking all this while he waited for the school parking lot to clear out and the last of the students to leave. He'd tuned them all out and hadn't noticed he was the only one there. Then, he heard a faint noise from behind him. He stood in a second.
Ashton was there. He wore a blank face, one that made him look far older than he was. His hair looked lighter in the sun—more golden than Ren would have thought. He wore a black coat that reached his knees. His sweater matched his gray slacks.
His light skin looked even whiter against the dark colors. Ren tried to not think about how smooth Ashton's cheeks looked. Or about how he wanted to know how it would feel to graze his knuckles against Ashton's jaw.
"What the Hell are you wearing?" Ren couldn't help but gawk. Ashton looked like he came straight out of a fashion magazine. If anyone was here, Ashton would surely as Hell draw a crowd.
Ashton didn't look at all amused. He gave Ren a drawl stare. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say anything."
He stuck his hands into the pockets of his pants. He glanced around, eyes lidded. They weren't as red as they had been last night, but they were a faint pink that still had Ren on edge.
Ren narrowed his own eyes, trying to get a better look at them. Ashton's eyes were surrounded by dark circles. They weren't too dark that anyone would notice if they weren't looking. It wasn't any of Ren's business. He didn't even care about what was happening in the Mantel's life.
But it was curious.
He also didn't like that he had to be around a vampire who was on the verge of starvation.
Ashton caught him looking. His mouth turned down into a deep scowl. "It's just a fucking coat for Christ's sake."
Ren couldn't hold back the sharp laugh that bubbled in his chest. He cut it short, but it was too late. Ashton glared at him though it wasn't threatening when his pale cheeks were turning a dark shade of red.
The color matched well with his eyes.
Ren wasn't going to tell him that. He'd die of embarrassment if he did.
"Never mind," Ashton grumbled. "Let's go before someone sees us together."
Yeah. Because that was the thing they should be worrying about right now. Not that they were about to crash a Hunter Society rally or that Ashton looked like he was about to attack the next living thing he saw.
Ren thought they were alone as they walked around the corner of the school. He was proven wrong when Darrien turned the next corner. He was about ten feet away from them, but he'd already noticed them.
"Who the Hell is that?" Ashton hissed as low as he could.
Ren had gone rigid. He didn't know why Darrien was still hanging around, but it couldn't have been for a good reason.
He couldn't say anything. His lips were sealed, like someone had glued them together when he wasn't looking.
Darrien slowly walked toward them. His eyes were solely on Ashton and if he knew anything about vampires, he would know the last thing he should be doing is heading toward one that was hungry.
He stopped four feet from them. He tucked something away in his pocket. Ren just caught the corner of it. A box. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought it was a cigarette box. But he couldn't imagine Darrien smoking at all.
Darrien locked eyes with Ashton. It wasn't that the world stopped turning. It didn't feel like anything at all. Worlds were colliding in the quietest of ways—in a way that Ren couldn't explain and he wasn't going to try to.
He held his breath as the two of them eyed each other, both analyzing for a threat. The thick air surrounding them clogged Ren's throat. He finally let out a breath, breathing once more, but it felt different. There was a stiff weight inside of his lungs that made him itch from the inside.
He wanted to claw at his chest to ease the irritation. He wanted to dig his nails in until he drew blood and the irritation was replaced with just raw pain.
"Hi," Darrien said, breaking the silence. He finally broke the gaze with Ashton. He looked at Ren. "I was looking for you."
The awkwardness in the air was driving Ren crazy. He had to fight with his legs to keep still and not bolt.
The way Darrien said he was looking for Ren sounded ominous. It entailed something more. That "more" was what Ren couldn't quite grasp.
Ren licked his lips a couple of times. He had to play it cool. He and Ashton weren't doing anything wrong. They were just standing outside the school. He was scared of nothing.
But when he glanced at Ashton from the corner of his eyes, his confidence plummeted.
Ashton's eyes had turned from light pink to a dark red. He was clenching his fists inside the pockets of his pants so much so that his veins were popping.
Ren turned away, eyes wide, as he felt his own gums ache.
Fuck. They were so fucked.
Ren had to think fast. His ears rang as he watched in slow motion as Ashton pulled his hand out of his pocket. The melodic beat of his own heart was wedged in his throat and in both of his ears. His face was flushed, eyes burning just like his fangs were, and not even the cold air could cut through the heat. He was chained to the ground. His limbs were full of cement and just when he needed to react, he lost all ability to do anything.
Then, he was released. It was like he'd been stung up and then the strings had been cut.
He firmly wrapped his left hand around Ashton's right wrist. He kept it steady with all his strength in case Ashton was actually trying to kill Darrien. He expected some resistance, but when he got nothing, he furrowed his brows. He didn't chance looking at Ashton. He already knew he would see Ashton's red eyes. Ren hadn't forgotten how he'd felt last night when they'd been so close. He was stronger now, but he could still feel the pull inside of him that was calling for more.
"If you don't mind, we have somewhere to be." Ren dragged Ashton away from the building.
Darrien raised both brows. Ren didn't care if it was rude or that it was suspicious. He needed to get Ashton out of there right the fuck now. They were turning the corner again, heading in the opposite direction of his house when Ashton yanked his arm away.
"I can fucking walk," he spat out.
They hadn't made it that far. Darrien could be right behind them. Instead of arguing like Ren wanted to, he kept on marching, hoping Ashton would follow.
When he heard heavy footsteps—ones that sounded more like stomps than steps—some tension left his shoulders. He was still anxious, waiting for Darrien to come running after them. That would be when all Hell broke loose. Forget Hell Hounds and his mom being a witch, Darrien being attacked by Ashton with Ren there would be the quickest way for the both of them to be killed.
The government was bad enough. He didn't want to find out how bad it was now with the Hunter Society back with their hands in the politicians' pockets.
Ren was out of breath, practically running toward the end of the street. He knew this block. It was going to lead them to Main Street. He stopped, looked around, and ran a hand through his hair. Ashton was staring at him with that stupid frown on his face. The one that meant he was a split second from storming off.
It was funny how much Ren knew about Ashton even though they hadn't known each other for long. It wasn't because Ashton wore his emotions on his sleeve or that he was an open book. Ren guessed on some level, they were more alike than they were different. However, their differences set them so apart they could never get along.
Ren hated Ashton Mantel.
He hated everything about him and more.
Ashton let out a frustrated noise. "Who the fuck was that?"
He pointed in the general direction they'd come from.
Ren tried to ignore him, turning to walk down a gravel road that would keep them away from the busy street.
"Oh, let me guess, he's a vampire sympathizer and he wants to be your friend." He snorted. "Fucking pathetic. Don't tell me you're fucking that lump of meat?"
Ren clenched his hands.
He wasn't going to do it. He wasn't going to do anything. Ashton wanted a reaction. That's all he wanted. He wanted to get under Ren's skin and make him embarrass himself.
The beating of his heart was lost as the heaviness in his chest took over. It was a need. A lust for mayhem and blood. He wanted to turn around and rip Ashton's throat out. The burning inside of him was getting higher and higher.
His vision was blurry. The path in front of him was nothing but a swirl of colors. His feet were steady. The need was taking over, putting him on autopilot.
Ashton laughed. "You're fucking joking right? That's disgusting."
Ren turned around. He caught Ashton off guard. Ashton took a step back, but it was too late.
Ren punched him in the face.
He did it as hard as he could. He heard a crunch under his knuckles, felt the splitting pain that traveled up his wrist and to his shoulder. The scent of blood hit the air. His fangs elongated, his gums ached, and the need inside of him became too much. He was riding on the high. It was dangerous. This feeling inside of him. He was lost to it, almost blacking out, but he was still there to feel everything.
It felt like himself, but it wasn't. It was almost like there were two of him in the same body.
Ashton sputtered. He covered his bloody face as he stumbled back. He almost tripped over the rocks, yet he was able to catch his balance.
He pulled his hand away. His red eyes stared down at his bloody palm.
Ren stared as well.
The scent was strong. Stronger than anything Ren had known. He'd smelled human blood before. He'd smelled his mother's blood before—witch blood. Human blood was savory while his mom's blood had a hint of spice.
This smell—the scent that drove the feeling inside of him wild—was sweet. It was so sweet it made his back molars ache in anticipation. He didn't know if it was just vampire blood in general or if it was Ashton's in particular. He only knew he wanted it so much. He knew what it tasted like, when he bit Ashton on the night they met.
That seemed like so long ago.
And he hadn't been this angry. He hadn't been on the verge of killing someone.
He was losing control and he didn't know at what lengths he would go to get what he wanted.
Ashton looked up. He met Ren's eyes.
"Is that all you got?"
He lifted his bloody hand to his mouth. He slowly licked from the bottom of his palm all the way to the tip of his fingers. He swiped his tongue over his upper lip. A light stain of pink was left on his lips. His eyes pulsed and glowed a bright red.
Ren felt something else tug within him. A fleeting thought about backing down and sinking to his knees. He pulled away from it. It wasn't a thought of his own.
Ashton wrinkled his nose. "There's something you're not telling me."
He wiped his hand on his thigh. The blood wasn't evident on the black material, but Ren knew it was there. He could see the imprint and his nose knew the smell.
His nose twitched. There was a heavy lump in his throat. It was making it hard to breathe. But he didn't want to breathe. If he did that, he'd just torture himself with the scent. The blood was calling to him. He was disgusted and so attracted to it at the same time that it tied his stomach up in knots.
He curled his upper lip.
"Get over yourself," he said. The threat was there, but it was empty on his part. The feeling inside of him wanted to fulfill it. It wanted to put Ashton in his rightful place under Ren's foot.
His vision was so blurred he could barely make out any details of Ashton's face. The one thing that pierced the fog was Ashton's brilliant red eyes. They weren't helping to calm the rising anger and mayhem inside of Ren.
Ashton snorted, turning his head to the side.
There was just a split second of silence before Ashton launched himself directly at Ren.
He slammed full force into Ren. They went down to the ground. Ren grunted as his back hit the rocky path. He gasped for a breath of air, but he was winded. He stared wide eyed up at the sky. The trees were swirling above him. There were traces of Ashton mixed in it. Around and around his vision went. Nausea rose within him. His body shook.
Ashton's blood dripped from his nose. It fell onto Ren's cheek.
The smell hit him full force.
He launched up, wrapping his arms tightly around Ashton's shoulders. He rolled them over so he was straddling Ashton's thighs.
They were a pile of limbs as they fought against one another. Ashton shoved the palm of his blood covered hand into Ren's face. Instead of flinching away from the pain, Ren opened his mouth and let his fangs graze the skin. Ashton let out a yelp as Ren clamped down on the hand.
Blood pooled in his mouth. He wrapped his own hands around Ashton's throat, keeping him down as he sunk his fangs deep inside Ashton's hand. The blood was all over his tongue, the roof of his mouth, and down his throat. His vision came back slightly, but the quench for death was still high in his system.
Both of their chests were heaving. As Ren looked up and locked eyes with Ashton, he saw how much Ashton wanted his blood. He saw the hunger, the desperation reflected in his eyes. This was one of the instances where they weren't so difference. They were alike in this moment, floating in the need to let their instincts take over.
The fight within him was waning. It was steady, still looming, but it wasn't clouding his vision. Slowly, he could feel it becoming one within him. It wasn't leaving like it usually did. It was still thriving inside.
But there was another feeling that he'd felt before.
He was hard.
The blood in his mouth had awakened lust. The sweet taste he couldn't get enough of was laced with an aphrodisiac.
Ashton hadn't pulled his hand away. They were both frozen in place.
Ren ran the tip of his tongue over the wounds he'd left. He panted as he sucked the tender skin. Ashton hissed. Beneath Ren's clenching hands, Ashton's throat tightened. His Adam's apple moved up and down.
Ren wanted to trace his fingers over the fragile bones. He could kill Ashton right now. All he had to do was tighten his hands. He'd cut off Ashton's airflow. And as Ashton took his last breath, Ren would drink his sweet blood until his body was empty.
Ashton's breath hitched.
"Your eyes…"
Ren simply stared down at him. He didn't know what he meant.
Ashton moved his hand away almost like he was going to touch Ren's eyes. Ren bit Ashton's pointer finger. It was a soft bite that didn't break skin, but it was a warning.
Ashton jerked his hand away. He was still at Ren's mercy, held down, but he wasn't afraid. He was still gaping at Ren's eyes.
"What?" Ren asked. His voice was rougher, lower than it usually was.
For a moment, Ashton didn't speak. His eyes had diminished in the time. They were a steady glow and he was still projecting the thought onto Ren to submit.
Persuasion. Ren only then realized that Ashton had one of the powers that full vampires could possess. He'd tried to do it to Ren the first time they met and he was trying to do it now.
It wasn't working though. Though it shouldn't have taken much since Ren was half vampire. It didn't matter that he was half witch either.
"They're grey."
Ashton was limp under him. Somehow, he managed to pull his hands away from Ashton's throat. He didn't want to let go. He wanted to pull Ashton toward him and just go to town on his throat.
Not to mention he was hard. He wasn't even going to start on decoding that. It was just the affects of feeding. That was it.
He rolled away to sit on the ground. He expected his hands to be shaking like they always were. He held them up, preparing for the inevitable sight.
They were still.
"I hope you enjoyed that. It's not going to happen again." Ashton got up. He pointed an accusing finger in Ren's face. "When we get back, you're going to fucking explain to me what the Hell is going on with you."
Ren glared as Ashton started to walk away.
"Fuck you!"
In answer, Ashton held up his middle finger.
And because Ren had the weakest spine on the fucking planet, he got up and followed him.