Chapter 18

All the pain the Hound felt was heavy in the air. Ren would have been able to feel it even if he didn't have this confusing "talent". Everything was hitting him like a bag of bricks. It mixed with his own. 

The men beat the Hound, tearing whimpers and faint gurgling growls from it. Ren wanted it to stop. He knew he shouldn't feel sorry for it when it had been trying to kill him and had left him with a deep gash in his side. 

But it was in misery. It was being tortured.

He couldn't look anymore. His eyes welled up with unshed tears. 

"Tell me why I shouldn't shoot you two right now."

Ren pressed his lips together, biting back a "fuck you" that might get them both shot. 

Ashton cockily stepped forward.

"Don't." Remy directed the barrel toward Ashton. "The next time you do that I'm putting a bullet through your head. Got it?"

Ren was only a little surprised the Hunter didn't call them blood sucking leeches. She hadn't seemed as bad as the other men, but Ren should have known better to just assume. She was a Hunter after all. She had to be fucked up to even think about being in their ranks. 

"We were just walking through."

By the look on her face, she didn't believe him.

Ashton nodded toward Ren. "He lived near by. I swear."

Ashton's swears were empty unless they were joined by blood. 

Ren gritted his teeth and pressed his hand hard against his side. 

Remy caught sight of the movement. 

"Shouldn't you be healed by now?"

Ren really tried to bite down the snippy remark. He seethed and bit his bottom lip, but he just couldn't take it anymore. He was fucking dying and none of them fucking cared.

"I'm a half-breed. Can't you tell?" He couldn't even hold back the sneer.

Remy simply stared. That was the same time when the other two men stepped away from the now mangled corpse of the Hound. It looked like roadkill. Ren couldn't look at it longer than a second before he became sick.

Kenny twirled his knife. There was a disgusted look on his face.

"A human fucked a fanger to make you?"

Ren didn't even think about clarifying what had happened for him to be made. 

Kenny had this manic look in his eyes that made Ren even more unsettled. It was obvious Kenny wanted nothing more to slice Ren open. And Ashton. 

The guy had even admitted he just want to hunt things down. 

"Stop." Malcolm slapped his hand in the middle of Kenny's chest.

"Are you serious—"

"Shut up."

Malcolm stared Ren and Ashton down. He felt just as bad as the other two—Ren wasn't an idiot to believe any of them had a shed of kindness for vampires inside of them. But Malcolm looked like he was thinking about the consequences of killing them. 

"What are your names?"

Ren wasn't going to tell them. He didn't care if they threatened to kill them. He wasn't going to lead them to his mom.

He assumed Ashton would do the same.

"He needs a doctor." Ashton hadn't moved closer, but it felt like he had. 

It was like he was right by Ren's side, holding him. It didn't ease the pain, but it subsided some of the panic rising in him. The thing was gone—a faint hum in the distance—and he couldn't fall back on it for support. 

His eyes drooped. He was hungry and weak. He just knew he was going to drop to the ground if he didn't stop the bleeding.

Was this how he was going to die?

He guessed it wasn't the most pathetic way to go out. Not everyone could say they died from being torn apart by a Hell Hound. 

"Names." Malcolm didn't miss a beat. He didn't even blink.

Cold hearted bastard. 

Ren wished he could read minds. He wished he knew what Ashton was thinking. He felt his feelings, but he was so weak he couldn't make them out like he used to. They were faint whispers. 

Ren glanced out of the corner of his eye at Ashton. He just saw the tic in his jaw. That said enough.

"He needs—"

"You need to tell me your names. Now."

Ren was shaking now. His hands and feet were cold. The frost of numbness was crawling up his limbs, making its way to the center of his heart. It would be too late for him then.

"Ashton..." Ren whispered the name. He wasn't giving it away. He just wanted Ashton to know it was okay. 

Ashton's jaw tightened even more. His name was too hushed for the Hunters to pick up on. And if they saw Ren's lips move, they didn't say anything. Though, it was probably hard to tell the difference between him speaking and his chattering teeth.

Cold. So cold. It wasn't long now. He almost welcomed it. Just to get away from this agonizing moment. 

"He's Ren."

"Last name."

Ashton clenched his fists. 

"Cornelli," Ren sputtered. He panted. He looked at the Hunter with glazed eyes. "Can I sit?"

He was already falling. 

Kenny stepped forward, his hand tight around the handle of his knife. Malcolm held him back.

He was on the ground. He didn't remember if he'd fallen or if he'd sat on his own. He brushed he thought off, worried about the pain and the Hunters.

The Hounds as well. Where were they? Had the Hunters killed them?

That didn't seem likely. Maybe they had gone back to where they'd come from.

He doubted they were going to be gone for long. They hadn't gotten what they wanted.

Him. They wanted him.

It was horrifying and unbelievable. He didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to be believe all the things he was learning. It was burning down the walls of his normal life. He was now finding out his life wasn't at all normal. 

A phone was ringing.

It was Malcolm's.

He answered it. The high tension in the air didn't dissipate as he placed the cell to his ear. The two other Hunters glared at Ren and Ashton. Ren wished he had the strength to glare back at them. He felt even weaker knowing his life was at their mercy. 

"We're—" Malcolm pressed his lips together. He looked at the sky. His jaw tightened. 

Ren could hear the voice through the receiver. It was distorted by static and the words were spoken too fast to make out any of it. He doubted he would have been able to hear it even if the conversation was clear given his state. The headache was so bad it felt like his head was being squeezed to the point of exploding. 

"I heard you." Malcolm ended the phone call.

As he shoved the cellphone into the pocket of his coat, he turned and walked away.

"Let them go. We have a job to finish."

Kenny sputtered. "What the fuck Mac? They were obviously tailing us!"

Malcolm shook his head. "We're leaving."

"Mac—"

Remy shoved Kenny. "Go. They're nothin' but little fangers."

Ren spat blood on the ground. Remy gave him the side eye. She still held her guns in her hands, but she'd lowered them to her side. 

The Hunters moved fast. They weren't agile or discreet as they disrupted the peaceful forest. They clamored like everything belonged to them or that they deserved any sort of respect.

When they were finally gone from Ren's eyesight, Ashton dropped to a crouch in front of him. 

He grabbed Ren's wrist. Ren hissed as a new shot of pain pierced the area around the wound. His skin felt like it had been seared off. He could barely feel it, but he was sure that was because his mind was trying to block out the pain.

"Hold onto me."

Ren didn't have time to ask what Ashton was doing before his arms were being thrown around Ashton's neck. Ashton slipped his right arm under the back of his knees and his left under Ren's back.

If he wasn't being assaulted by the piercing stabs in his side he would have flushed. He would have tried to fight out of Ashton's grip. A little out of his mind, he didn't mind being handled like this. He pressed closer to Ashton's chest, sighing in relief as he let his body relax.

Ashton was warm. He was like a furnace while the dark forest was a freezing pit. Ren let all his embarrassment drift away. He didn't care at the moment if Ashton was a Mantel. The thing didn't care either.

The forest was a blur as Ashton walked far away from the dead Hound. He walked in the opposite direction of the Hunters. Ren was drifting in and out of sleep. He felt Ashton. His steady heart beat, his gentle but firm hands that kept Ren safe, and his hard chest that was just as comfy as a pillow.

"Hey."

He was so out of it he hadn't realized they'd stopped. Ashton had placed him down in a grassy area of the forest, still holding him so his weight wasn't fully on his bad side.

Ren didn't want to keep his eyes open. He just wanted to sleep.

"Cold," he whispered. His bottom lip caught on his fangs. 

He furrowed his brows.

He hadn't noticed he was hungry either.

Ashton furrowed his brows. He grabbed the hem of Ren's shirt and lifted it up. The look on his face was one Ren didn't want to see. For that split second Ashton couldn't keep a poker face, he showed Ren the situation was worse than bad. This only cemented the fear inside him.

He shivered. 

He'd come to terms with death long ago. It was the elephant in the room he had to address early on. But he didn't want to die. He was afraid of what was on the other side—if there was anything. 

And he didn't want to leave behind his mom. As selfish as that was. 

But fear was a thing no one could explain. He couldn't explain why he wasn't angry at the world for letting death exist and he couldn't explain why he was so scared of the darkness that would greet him in the end.

Ashton peeled away Ren's shirt. It felt like he was ripping off a part of his skin. He was numb, but he could still feel the soft shocks of pain shooting up his spine. Tears slid down his cheeks, yet, he wasn't crying. His mouth was distorted into a grimace, but his eyes were wide open, staring down at what Ashton was doing. 

Ashton pressed his thumb right to the edge of the wound. Ren jerked forward with the last bit of strength he had. He clenched his teeth and glared at Ashton.

"Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?" 

Ashton's facial expression didn't change. He simply stared down at the wound. 

"It's not healing."

Ren growled in the back of his throat. "Wow. You're a fucking genius."

Ashton's intense stare flickered away from Ren's wound and up to meet Ren's eyes. 

"I mean," he punctuated, "It's not healing at all."

Before Ren even had a chance to contemplate what Ashton meant, Ashton ripped Ren's shirt from the collar all the way down to the bottom hem. Ren gaped as Ashton nonchalantly pulled the fabric to the side so that he could get a clear look at Ren's chest.

Ren flushed from his cheeks down to the top of his chest, but Ashton wasn't paying attention to that. 

He was looking at the old scar on Ren's left shoulder.

It had taken three long days to heal and had taken all of his energy.

This time the bite was a lot worse.

He lightly set his hand on Ren's shoulder. He ran his thumb over the scar, tracing it from the crease of his armpit and up to the curve of his neck. Ren swallowed. He held still as Ashton took in the mark. Ren couldn't read him at all. His face was a blank slate. 

Ren wished he was stronger. He wished he could overcome this pain. He wished he was more vampire than witch so he could heal.

He wished he was brave enough to give up.

"Please," he spoke. It was a broken plea he didn't know where it had come from.

Ashton's eyes slightly widened, but Ren was closing his eyes so he missed the small gifted expression.

The last thing he felt before he fell into darkness was Ashton picking him up once more.

***

"What is that?"

Ren hadn't opened his eyes yet. He was too afraid of what he would find. And he was slightly hoping he was in a dream. That maybe if he held out for long enough he would wake up and find that he'd fallen asleep with the TV on. 

He knew that wasn't the case.

He was weak, but he could feel the people around him. It wasn't just that he could sense them with his body. It was the ability he hadn't had before—the one where he could feel people's emotions like he was reading the weather.

The pain was faint, covered in layers of fogginess he couldn't name. He tried to stay as still as he could, but his hands twitched. He was laying on something. It was hard and solid.

Cold like ice.

"Answer me."

The voice was just as cold as the thing he was laying on—metal perhaps? He pressed his fingertips to the surface slowly so no one notice.

"Ren. I know you're awake."

Ashton slid his fingers around Ren's wrist. His middle finger pressed over Ren's pulse point. His heart sped up even more.

He still didn't open his eyes. 

The person before—a man—yanked Ashton's hand away from Ren's wrist.

"What have you done, Ashton?"

Ren jolted as he was slapped with anger and deceit. He opened his eyes in panic, moving away from the man who was spitting fire.

He didn't get far. He sat up but groaned as his stomach was hit with a wave of hot pain. It was like a hundred needles with sharp prongs stabbed into his gut. 

He panted as his eyes flickered around the room, looking at everything, but not processing it all. His heart lodged in the middle of his throat. He clawed at his chest as if that was going to fix the helplessness he felt. Four people watched him, one of them, Ashton. And the thing he was laying on was thankfully not a metal surgical table like he feared. It was an island table in the middle of a small kitchen.

The man who struck fear into him had the same piercing look Ashton had sometimes. The man's hair was pitch black and slicked back so only a few locks of hair was touching his brow. He was dressed like he was going out for a dinner party, but Ren was starting to become used to Ashton's particular fashion choices. At this point, it didn't seem odd.

That didn't matter though. What mattered was that the man looked like he wanted to do nothing more than slit Ren's throat. 

Things were a blur. He couldn't focus his eyes for long before his vision swirled. The man's disgusted gaze made Ren sick in return. He couldn't move as the pain struck him like lightning, forcing him to stay on the island as he was surrounded by the Mantel family.

Ashton stepped between Ren and his father. He stayed away from Ren—Ren didn't know if it was because he wanted to appease his father or Ren. 

"I made a contract with him."

Ren wished he was dead then. The look on Mr. Mantel's face could have seared Ashton's face off if he tried hard enough. The man's light skin looked deadlier paired with the changing of his brown eyes. They changed to the bright red Ren had seen numerous times on Ashton's face, but this time, it felt like he was staring into the eyes of a snake ready to snap. 

A laugh broke through the tension. It was Kai—the red head.

He was the only one out of the bunch who was dressed somewhat casual. He wore a black long sleeve shirt and black fitted pants. He smirked, not bothering to hold back his amusement. 

"And you all thought I was the idiot between the two of us."

"Fuck off," Ashton spat.

Kai's eyes flashed red. "Try that again and I'll break every bone in your body."

Ashton started, but he stopped when his mom—Mrs. Mantel—snapped her fingers.

Her thin blond brows pulled down as she glared not at Ashton or Kai, but at Ren.

"He's dying."

There wasn't an ounce of worry. She didn't care. Her blue eyes looked down at Ren, not seeing a person in pain, but a thing hindering her child.

"Yes."

Kai let out a choked laugh.

Mr. Mantel smacked him upside he head. "Out."

"I'm going! Jesus."

The door slammed and then Mr. Mantel was beside Mrs. Mantel. They painted a dreary but beautiful painting together. They were dark and light, strangely mystical though it was obvious they weren't the nice type.

"Move out of the way, Ashton."

Mrs. Mantel didn't wait for him to obey. She walked around the island toward Ren. 

There was no where for him to go. He shuffled back, almost losing his balance. His hand slipped on the edge of the island. He caught himself just barely with his other hand, but she was there, behind him, too fast for him to keep an eye on. 

She placed her hand on his shoulder. That was all it took for him to fall down on the island, screaming in pain.

"Hush." 

He couldn't. The pain rocketing through him was so much worse than the pain of the bite. His insides melted down to hot liquid. He was pumped full of lava and his skin was being torn away. His nerves were pinched and pulled. Every inch of him experienced agony he didn't know existed. 

"This bite…" Mr. Mantel stayed away from his wife. He lingered by the end of the island, not watching Ren, but gazing at the wound on his side.

His body slumped as Mrs. Mantel removed her hand. He gasped. His lungs were weak, barely taking a small breath. His limbs jerked as shocks of electricity went through him. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and he couldn't swallow. His eyes rapidly flickered around the room. 

Tears of pain streamed down the sides of his face. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ashton watching him. Their gazes held. Ren pleaded for Ashton to not look away.

And he didn't.

"Hell Hound."

Mrs. Mantel didn't respond. She turned Ren's head to face her. Her ice cold eyes stared down at him. They inspected him, looking into his eyes for a response. 

"Eyes are dilated. He's responding well." She pulled her hand back, letting his head fall back to where it had been turned in Ashton's direction. He felt her hands prod at the sensitive skin where the wound was. "The healing has started. The blood—"

She shoved her finger into his exposed flesh. He jerked and more tears fell from his eyes. 

"The bleeding has stopped."

She removed her fingers. The pain lessened, but as it receded, the thing began to hum. If he wasn't so weak, he would have tried to rip her throat out.

She raised a thin brow. "He seemed so meek when I met him."

Mr. Mantel stiffened. "You've met this thing?"

Mrs. Mantel rolled her eyes. "I don't tell you everything."

She turned away from Ren. Ashton was still staring into Ren's eyes even when she snapped her fingers for his attention.

"I hope you've learned your lesson. Socializing with halfys bring nothing but trouble. Ashton Mantel, look at me right now."

That was when Ashton broke the connection between them. Ren pleaded again though he knew that Ashton couldn't hear him. He felt more alone than he'd ever felt before. The pain drifted from his body, but it was still present in his mind.

Mr. Mantel marched past Ashton. He barely casted a glare in Ren's direction. 

"Get to the boiler room before I drag you by your ear."

There was a second of stillness. Ren's mind was fleeting. He couldn't grasp onto any feeling. He tried to feel out Ashton's emotions, but he was only met by dark smoke and contempt that tasted like tar. For a second, he thought about Ashton's blood. His stomach grumbled and his teeth ached.

He felt better. Yet...

Ashton left. His vague form faded from Ren's eyesight.

Mr. Mantel left with him. 

The door closed.

"I had wondered if there was more going on with you two."

Mrs. Mantel ran her hand around the island. Soft clicks of her heels echoed in the small room. He saw now that this kitchen was for the staff. It was all metal on metal and so small it couldn't be converted to a room. 

She gazed down at him with a small smile on her face. Her eyes were lifeless. The smile was fake. 

"My son and a halfy…" She stopped. "I'd kill you if it didn't complicate things."

Ren ground his teeth. He thought it was strange she grouped Ashton's death with other 'things'. Though she looked like the abusive parent type. It was probably normal. 

The arch of her thin blond brow irritated him and the thing. He felt it rumbling in his chest. It was just as weak as he was. It was clawing to rise to the surface, but the pain buried it and the numbness made it easier for Ren to gain control where he usually wouldn't have been able to. 

"Go to sleep." She effortlessly pushed him down onto the island. 

He went down, his back hitting the metal. Where she touched him on his naked shoulder burned like he was being poked with a hot metal rod. He strained his neck as he swallowed down a scream. It tore through his throat. His head ached from slamming it onto the metal surface. His eyes went cross-eyed and what he could see was a blurry figure of Mrs. Mantel. He ground his teeth, but that didn't stop the blood curdling screams pulled out of him as easily as unraveling an old sweater.

He was floating in a sea of darkness. He could still feel her. The pain rippling through him was getting further and further away. That didn't mean he didn't still feel it. He wouldn't be able to forget this pain. This pain she'd unleashed onto him was worse than the Hounds' teeth. It was worse than any of the pain he'd felt in his short life. 

And then he was gone, enveloped by the cold dark pain.