He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and fore finger. He was aware of the difference between his light footsteps and Ashton's heavy, confident ones. He wished he would stop picking up those small details. They were piling up in his head, taking up space he desperately headed, and he feared by the end of things he would have his own library of random facts about Ashton.
That wasn't useful or healthy at all.
"They're stopping."
Ren looked up. The Hunters were at the end of the alleyway. The woman—Remy—was pointing down at the scanner and talking to the men. She had a scowl on her face.
Ren and Ashton ducked behind a wide tree. Ren didn't know if it was necessary, but he was all in favor of not being caught.
"Do you know where they're going?" He tried to not think about how close they were again. Somehow he managed to just focus on the three Hunters and not on how easy it would be to press his body against Ashton's.
"I have no idea."
Ren pressed his lips together. "Hell Hounds. They're familiar with them."
Ashton didn't say anything. He just stared at the backs of the Hunters. Ren shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. A shiver went through him. He shuddered, clenching his jaw so his teeth wouldn't chatter.
They followed them for a while longer without anything major happening. Ren wouldn't say he got bored easily, but he was getting this nervous tic he didn't like. His fingers thrummed the inside of his jacket pocket. He chewed on his bottom lip.
"Stop that." Ashton put his hand on Ren's wrist.
Ren jumped as Ashton's cold fingertips grazed over his skin. He pulled away, careful to not make a scene that would draw the Hunters' attention.
"What?"
Ashton pulled his hand away. "You fidgeting. It's annoying."
Ren wrinkled his nose. "Piss off."
Ashton frowned and looked like he was about to argue further, but Ren walked away before he had the chance. He wasn't running because he was scared of Ashton. He knew he couldn't do anything to him until their deal was finished. He was running because he could feel the buzzing within him coming to the surface.
He didn't know what had set it off. He wasn't that angry. He'd only been a little surprised when Ashton had put his hand on him.
Though he didn't like that Ashton had noticed the shaking in his hands. He'd seen it before—he'd pointed it out before and hadn't been as nice about it as he'd just been. The thing inside him really didn't make sense. It was thirsty for blood and violence. It didn't matter where it came from. All that mattered was that it got it when it wanted it.
But it also wanted Ashton for another reason beside how good his blood tasted. It was like the thing inside him was drawn to something about Ashton that Ren couldn't see.
The appeal was there if Ashton wasn't such an asshole. His personality made him ugly and that was the end of it.
It wasn't like Ashton being nice would change things.
Ren wasn't paying attention to where he was going. He was caught up in the swirling thoughts of mayhem. His fangs ached for blood—blood it couldn't have.
"Get out of the way before you get us caught!" Ashton hissed from behind him.
Ren looked up and saw that he was in direct line of sight with the Hunters. He grumbled swears to himself as he moved away before Ashton had an aneurysm.
"Better?" He tossed a quick look over his shoulder.
Ashton glared at him.
"I hate you."
Ren snickered.
For another thirty minutes, they followed the Hunters. They headed to the forest surrounding Crystal Mountain. They were most likely heading to the spot where he and Ashton had come in contact with the Hell Hounds.
They took the long path around and instead of crossing over the old highway, they went through town.
Ren noticeably stiffened as they officially entered the heart of Montis.
There was a clear difference between the actual town of Montis and the broken down blocks west of it.
But it wasn't the people in the town that made Montis that much different than the blocks wasting away.
The scenery was sad. The buildings were intact—they were well kept because they were all that the small town could offer. The streets were clean and the roads weren't too fucked up. Surprisingly, it wasn't shabby like others outside of small towns would think it would be.
It should have been welcoming.
It wasn't.
Ren could feel the air change. He could feel the atmosphere tighten around his neck. Invisible hands clenched around his throat, thumbs pressing into his Adam's apple to jolt a sharp pain down to his sternum. He'd felt them before. He'd felt it so many times he knew the feeling when he felt it.
When he looked at the semi-empty store fronts, he felt a million eyes on him. The people of Montis were watching him. They knew who he was. They knew what his father had done. Ren was no better than him in their eyes.
This town was a blood stain on the map. Any way he looked at it, all he could see were the horribly memories he had to deal with when he least expected them. He thought he would have forgotten them. The times someone said a snide remark toward him and his mom. When he fell on the playground and his teacher told him to suck it up when he asked for help.
The small things like a store clerk asking him to empty his pockets when he was three years old. Or all the times he was harassed durring lunch in middle school.
They were melding together to form one big pot of shit being thrown at him. He shouldn't be able to remember them. He shouldn't have to remember them. But as he looked around his home town, he didn't just see gloomy buildings and cracked sidewalks.
He saw every person who hated him. He saw them glaring at him because it was his fault that they were unsafe. It was his fault that their lives were shit.
He was the wrong and they were the right.
The streets were bare. There were a few people in the grocery store. They were watching him. No. That wasn't true. It was in his head. They hadn't noticed him or Ashton.
Even so, his gut twisted and the nape of his neck itched.
Breathe. They don't care about you. They don't see you. It's not real.
It felt real. He hated that. He hated that he couldn't convince his stupid mind that what he was imagining wasn't reality. He was lost in a battle between the fear and the reassurance that he wasn't going to be murdered today.
He made sure Ashton couldn't see his face. He already knew there was fear etched there. Maybe even a hint of sickness that would no doubt be a big sign that he was at his weakest. Except, of course, it wasn't. It could get worse. It wouldn't take much to shove him down to a melted mess of sobs.
The shaking in his hands wasn't just because of the buzzing inside him. It was the monster following him and the millions of eyes that he still couldn't convince himself were nothing.
His stride didn't slow down. He made sure to keep a few steps in front of Ashton so he didn't get a chance to see how un-put together he was.
Slowly, the more he stared at the backs of the Hunters the more he was able to fall into a trance. They were far away, just dots in the distance, and when they disappeared into the forest, Ren couldn't see them at all.
It was only when they stepped away from the paved streets that Ren felt the heavy tension lessen. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air was different. It wasn't heavy. It was crisp and it wasn't poisoned by the intrusive thoughts of the past.
The worry was still under his skin, itching him, piercing him deep enough to scar. But he couldn't do anything about that. It would never go away. A part of him would always be afraid of the evil inside humans.
The Hunters weren't long gone in the forest. Their colors were lost in the scraggly and naked branches of the large trees. Their twisted bodies covered the Hunters from Ren's sight. They weren't too far away though. They could turn around and in no time they would be right upon him and Ashton.
What would happen then? Did Ashton have a plan for something like that?
Ren snorted. He was tired of all this. He was tired of being on the edge of death. He was tired of always being afraid of something that was bigger than himself.
It would be so much easier if he wanted to die. Unfortunately, he wanted to live.
How fucked up was that?
Again, he was getting lost in his thoughts. He was agitated, his hands twitching, and his mind blinded by all the horrible memories of being born into a cruel world.
He turned completely around.
"Where are you going?"
It might have been the one time he'd actually thrown Ashton for a loop. It was also the only time he didn't fucking care about what he was thinking or about what he thought about Ren. He wanted to get the hell out of there and not think a second more about the Hunters.
He'd only made it a few feet away when Ashton grabbed his arm and wrenched him back. He let out a frustrated growl and tugged his arm out of Ashton's ridiculously strong grip.
"I'm going home," he hissed. Ashton gave him a "what the fuck" look, but that wasn't enough to make him lower his voice. "I'm tired of doing this wild goose chase. They're not going to lead us to the Hunter Society base like you thought. Admit it, okay? You were wrong."
Irrational. He was being fucking irrational, but he was tired. His nerves were all over the place and while he wanted to be stronger—while he wanted to be that person who protected his family—there were times he needed to be real with himself. This was one of those times.
He wasn't cut out for this. He was going to have a heart attack if he took another step in that forest.
"I'm not wrong!"
Ashton wrapped his arms around Ren's chest and yanked him back. Ren's eyes went wide as his back was slammed against Ashton's chest.
He was frozen. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't blink. He stared at the tiny buildings dotting the road in front of them. Ashton's large hands gripped onto Ren's hoodie like he thought Ren was going fall through his fingers like water. Except Ren couldn't think anymore. The thoughts that had buzzed all around him were finally silent.
All it really took was for everything to go wrong.
Because everything about Ashton was wrong.
He was the thing destroying Ren's life. And if the racing of his heart or the rush of blood in his eardrums wasn't enough, the ache in his stomach was the cherry on top of the shit storm.
He felt sick by the touch. The warmth of Ashton's body against his, the sinking of his fingers into Ren's chest, and the curling lust in his abdomen brought upon waves of disgust.
But he couldn't sort through it all. His mind was a puddle of mush.
"Don't fuck this up," Ashton bit though his clenched teeth. "They're looking for the Hounds. They're too stupid to think about what the Hounds are looking for."
Ren clenched his hands into fists. "They're looking for the portal."
"Right. They're trying to go home."
Ren closed his eyes. "Okay. Enlighten me. What are your plans for when they do find the Hounds?"
Ashton placed his chin on Ren's shoulder. Ren stilled when he felt Ashton's warm breath fan over his ear.
"How does a game of cat and mouse sound?"
***
Ren's throat closed up. His air was cut off for a second time, but it wasn't just because of how close Ashton was. It was the deepening of his voice. The rumble and the hint of deviance that made the arousal flare up in Ren's gut. His stomach quaked and his breath hitched. Ashton's hands were locked onto him and for a second, he wished he had the guts to turn around and take what he'd been thinking about for a while.
He was afraid though. He couldn't even think it because then it would be too real. He'd be giving in to dark thing that wanted so much of him that there would be no Ren Cornelli left.
A cat and mouse game. It wasn't just his imagination. That's really what Ashton had said.
Ren grabbed Ashton's wrist. Another second passed and he was frozen with his fingers tightly wound around Ashton's hand. The pad's of his fingers sunk deep into his wrist, not wanting to let go. Even this small amount of touching was too much for Ren's racing heart. He felt he was going to pass out from all the erupting feelings inside of him.
That prolonged second was already burned into his memory. The smell of Ashton, the feel of his body—his warmth, and the tickle of his breath on Ren's neck. He couldn't do this. He needed to get out of there before he did something he deeply regretted.
But his body wasn't moving anymore.
And then—like a switch had been flipped—he came out of it.
He saw the color red not because of his anger. It was the color of lust that flooded his vision. It had taken over him once more and it was a loss of power that flipped his stomach around and around. He pulled out of Ashton's embrace. He leaned over, his hands braced on his slightly bent knees, and he panted. His mind was swirling, all rays of colors and emotions filtering through him.
Ashton placed his hand to Ren's shoulder blade. Ren hunched away. His eyes automatically closing as he grimaced.
Ashton didn't press. His touch was faint, barely felt through the layers of clothes Ren had on, but even still, Ren could feel him all around. He couldn't escape the feelings hurling from Ashton to him. He was a furnace of emotions. They were dripping off him.
Ren didn't know why it was worse now. It had been fine before. The emotions he felt when the school had been bombarded with protests had been bad, but this felt so much worse. It was like Ashton was right inside his head. He was screaming through a megaphone and he was only getting louder.
Ashton hesitated. Ren could feel that too. He could feel it like he was the one hesitating and also feel it because it wasn't him. It was confusing all around—like his hand had gone numb and it was him that was actually touching his back.
"Are you sick?"
Ren squeezed his eyes close harder. "It's nothing."
It was a bold-face lie. Ashton must have heard how fake it was.
Ashton's hand moved and Ren's chest wasn't so tight anymore. However, his eyes flew open when Ashton's hand instead pressed softly to the nape of Ren's neck.
"We can go back." Ashton's voice was too soft. It wasn't like the Mantel at all.
It felt like a trap. Ren stared at the ground. The pounding in his head wasn't gone and the sickness in his stomach had only gotten worse. The touch on his neck should have made both of those things worse.
They didn't.
It actually fucking helped.
Ren swallowed the large lump in his throat. He straightened, pulling away from Ashton's touch.
When he saw Ashton's face, his gut clenched even more.
He wasn't himself was Ren's first thought. There was no way Ashton had been in his right mind when he'd been kind to Ren. But the look on Ashton's face made it more evident there was something wrong.
He looked concerned.
It was there. Ren was seeing it with his own eyes.
But Ashton must have seen how bewildered Ren was. He turned away, wiping his face, and the next time he looked at Ren, he was wearing a deep frown.
His eyes weren't red this time. They were, however, rimmed red. He looked far older than he was—like he'd seen so many things that no one should see in their lifetime. It wasn't just the murder Ren could see reflected back in those dark eyes. He saw trauma he knew Ashton would never tell him. He saw things he couldn't imagine and he didn't want to.
Ashton ran his hand over his face. He stared down at Ren. That stare pierced Ren like a stake. He felt the tip of it wedge itself between his ribs and force itself out his back through his shoulder blades. The pain bloomed like a moonflower under a full moon. As beautiful as Ashton was, he was poisonous. He was the kind of poison that tasted sweet, but at the very last second—the moment you knew you were going to die—it turned bitter.
"Go then."
Ashton waited. He stood there, the wind blowing through his hair and ruffling his coat. He looked back at Ren as if there wasn't anything wrong with the situation.
Ren was going to turn. He was going to walk away.
But he just stood there.
Ashton's words cut deeper than he ever thought could be possible. Yeah, Ashton was a dickhead and he was the biggest asshole he'd been forced to spend copious amounts of time with, but he wasn't the biggest douche in the world. That was reserved for the Regans of the world.
The sliver of kindness he'd shown Ren felt odd and so right at the same time. He couldn't let himself believe any of it was real.
"I'm fine," he choked out. He chewed on the inside of his lip as he looked past Ashton and toward the path the Hunters had disappeared on.
"We're going to lose them."
He didn't look at Ashton after that. He couldn't bring himself to see the deep frown on his face or the ice cold sharpness in his eyes.
This was just something he had to deal with. They weren't friends. They weren't anything. And anything that looked like kindness was just another form of manipulation.
The sun was close to setting when they finally caught up to the Hunters. They were bickering again about something Ren couldn't pick up on. Ashton wrinkled his nose as if he could hear them.
Ren raised a brow. Ashton shook his head.
They stood at the top of a slope high above where the Hunters were. The slope went up just a bit so Ren and Ashton had some covering. It was a good thing it had gotten dark because otherwise they might have been at a greater risk of being seen. Thankfully, the Hunters were too focused on finding the Hell Hounds than they were on being tracked by two teenage vampires.
Ren crouched by the slope and watched the Hunters. He was slightly amused by them, especially the Kenny guy. He was very expressive with his hands. He was a complete idiot by the looks of it. Typical of a guy who only wanted to be a Hunter so he could kill.
It reminded Ren of hunters who shot for sport. Nothing like killing something for the fun of it.
Ashton decided to stand and watch. He was completely still.
Ren didn't know how he did it. He was bursting with energy. It was thrumming through him like he was hooked to a live wire. He rapidly tapped his cold fingers to his knee. He was ready for something to happen though at the same time he was dreading it.
He turned his head just slightly in Ashton's direction, but his eyes were still locked on the three Hunters.
"So, what was your plan again?"
Cat and mouse. He remembered what he'd called it. It was just that it didn't actually mean anything.
Ashton had his hands in his pockets. He cocked his head as if he wanted to look down at Ren but had thought better of it. He watched the Hunters down below with a glazed look. Ren saw it before he quickly adverted his own eyes so that Ashton wouldn't see him staring.
It wasn't exactly Ashton he had to worry about. He had to worry about his own stupid body. It was starting to mess with his head.
"The Hunters are the mice," he slowly said. He pronounced each word as if he was testing them out for the first time. "The Hounds are the cats. The Hunters draw the Hounds out and we take advantage of the chaos."
A beat of silence fell between them.
The forest floor was cold and damp. His shoes and socks were soaked with the moisture. Each movement made it more obvious how uncomfortable he was. But he tried to keep as steady as he could while he was crouching. Fear prickled at the back of his neck had Ashton's breath had done.
Chaos. It described so much of Ashton, yet, it was the complete opposite of him. Ren couldn't get a grasp of who he really was nor did he really want to. Of course, there was some part of him—he would have said human but he wasn't—that was curious. The fear won out the war between the conflicting feelings. It was always the fear that won.
Or more lately, the anger.
On the outside, Ashton was everything Ren wasn't. He was elegant, collected, and eye-catching. It wasn't just that he was a vampire or that he was a Mantel. Even if he visited the country where vampires ruled—Sangui—he would stand out. Ren wasn't blind. He knew Ashton was good looking, but most vampires were. It was basically in their genetic makeup to be good looking.
Well, full vampires anyway.
It seemed in his makeup he'd carried on a lot more witch.
He didn't feel one way or another about.
The Hunters were back to arguing. It broke the silence. Birds hiding in the trees flew away from the ruckus. Ren's gaze was captured by them. He'd never wanted wings so bad.
He remembered Ashton's eyes. The chaos had been in them. It wasn't just something he felt. Ren had picked up on Ashton's chaotic emotions like they were building up to something more extreme. He saw them when they had looked at each other—when Ashton had touched his nape. He hadn't known what it was, but now he knew.
A monster hiding in sheep's clothing. Ren couldn't forget that.
"Fuck! They're here!"
Ren was yanked out of his stupor as the Hunters scrambled back. He went rigid as the Hunters pulled out their weapons.
Guns. Silver pistols that seemed to be taken straight out of an action movie. They gleamed even in the foggy sunlight.
Ren went to stand up, but he was stopped by Ashton's hand.
"Don't move."
Ren felt the Hounds before he saw them.
They were pounding in his head—the rage and the need for destruction.
Then he saw them.