Ren jolted awake. He gasped, sucking in the scream lodged in his throat. He swallowed his tongue and he choked. His eyes were wide as he looked around.
This was Ashton's room. He was lying in Ashton's bed.
He kicked the thick duvet off. Sweat ran down his face and down his back. His clothes stuck to him. Small hot flashes ran down his body like chills, but he was frantic as he jumped off the bed, circling it as he surveyed the large room. The sun shined through the windows. In the daylight, the room was grander than it had been before. The gold details shined and though it seemed Ashton liked dark colors, the bright light made it feel less like a prison.
Ren remembered the pain. He remembered waking up to the Mantels watching over him. And he remembered how Ashton had left him to suffer at the hands of his mother.
Ren was blind to the rage. He grabbed the heaviest thing he could find—a thin lamp. He ripped the cord out of the wall and pulled the shade off of it. The shade fell to the ground and rolled away somewhere under the large bed in the center of the room. He held the base of the lamp tightly in both hands. He walked to the opposite side of the door that led out to the hallway and toward the desk pushed against the wall.
That was about the time when he heard the yelling.
He braced himself, his grip tightening even more as he heard a flurry of footsteps getting closer to the door.
The yells were muffled until the door flew open.
"Where is he? I swear to God if I don't find him—"
Margret Cornelli stopped mid-scream as her eyes met Ren's.
Ren lowered the lamp in shock.
"Mom?"
There were no words that would make sense to him at that moment. He vaguely remembered her journal and the mention of the Mantels, but it didn't click until now that she might actually know them.
There were a series of emotions that flashed across Margret's face. First there was relief. The stress hidden in her brows fell away, smoothing out the harsh lines that made her look ten years older. Then, there was joy. It was different than the kind of happiness he was used to seeing on her face. This was grander, like she'd received everything she'd ever asked for. But the last emotions she settled on was disappointment and anger.
Ren flinched as her eyes narrowed on him.
"You're never leaving the house again. Ever." Ren looked away as her words hit him. His stomach was heavy and his eyes watered. He didn't understand this feeling.
She yanked him into a tight hug. She kissed his cheek, her hands clutching so tight to his back that the hug became uncomfortable, but he didn't try to get away. He basked in the touch, wishing he could stay in her embrace a little long. He longed for the days when he could ask for small innocent intimacies like this. The days as a child had been stolen from him and he hated being an adult.
"What were you thinking? I thought they got you," she whispered.
He didn't know what she was talking about for a second. Then, it hit him.
The Hunter Society.
She thought they hurt him.
If she knew he'd been held at gun point by them, she'd kill him herself.
Someone cleared their throat.
Margret pulled away and turned around.
The Mantels—all four of them—were standing in the hallway. Ren's eyes immediately went to Ashton who was standing with his arms crossed behind the other three. He was slightly hidden by the shadows and he wasn't looking at him. He was looking at the floor, his face void as usual. Ren couldn't just let it slip by. He clung to the obvious disconcertment.
He clenched his jaw.
Mrs. Mantel hitched her raised eyebrow higher. "Temperamental as always. You haven't changed at all."
Margret wrinkled her nose. "Likewise. Now, get out of my way."
She steered Ren to leave the room, but Mrs. Mantel was a step ahead of her.
Ren couldn't believe it when his mom didn't move back. She stood her ground even when Mrs. Mantel flashed her red eyes.
Mrs. Mantel, however, wasn't surprised at all. She glowered down at Margret like she was looking at the dumbest animal on the planet, but it was like she'd dealt with it many times before.
Mrs. Mantel didn't try to stop Margret after that. She stood where she was, eyes glowing red, looking regal and feral at the same time. Ren had only half a brain to process what was going on in front of him. The other half of his mind was rolling in a sea of contempt as his body kept remembering the intense pain.
Before either of them could make it further into the hall, Mr. Mantel put his arm out.
The man was thin and tall. He loomed wherever he went and it didn't help that his features were dark as shadows. He was horrifying to look at because this was the type of person Ren thought of when he thought about out of control vampires. They took what they wanted because they were at the top of the food chain. They had the power to have everything they wanted and it didn't matter if people got hurt in the end.
"He's not leaving." Mr. Mantel's eyes were narrowed and locked with Margret's. His gaze had almost a softness to it that Ren didn't like at all. It was worse than the cold looks he'd received from him and his wife.
Ren didn't like the implications of the look being given to his mother.
"Excuse me?" It was obvious Margret was at her pushing point.
Ren's heart had dropped to the pit of his stomach. His throat closed up tight. His hands shook as he felt the thing pushing up, trying to take control. The conflicting reactions sent his mind into a whirlwind. However, it was the ghost touch of pain that pushed him over the edge. Without thinking, he pushed Margret behind him and stood up to the pale thin man.
Ashton vaguely looked like his father. They did share a certain hardness, a twisted mouth when they didn't like something, and a signature murderous glare.
Ren didn't like Ashton, but he loathed Mr. Mantel. He knew a douchebag when he saw one.
Like all the others, he thought Ren was a disgusting mutt that needed to be put down.
Mr. Mantel looked Ren up and down. "Are you going to fight me?"
There was no amusement in his voice.
Ren practically snarled. "Fuck you."
The bottled anger popped. He punched, aiming straight for Mr. Mantel's face.
He didn't miss, but his fist never came into contact.
Mr. Mantel caught Ren's fist. He pulled Ren forward and forced him to turn around. Ren's arm was wrenched behind his back and up toward the back of his neck.
He hissed as his shoulder was pulled tight. His fangs popped out from his gums and he just knew his eyes were glowing red.
Margret stared wide-eyed at him.
It was just a second suspended in time, but as he stared at her, it felt like eternity.
Shame washed over him not because he failed to defend himself and her, but because she could see this side of him.
He hated being a vampire. All it ever did was ruin their lives.
But to Ren's surprise, Margret didn't look at him in horror.
"Get your fucking hands off my son."
Bright turquoise shimmers erupted in the irises of Margret's eyes.
The air in the room was sucked into a vacuum. Ren's body froze. The thing shivered and twisted as it was chained by another force emitting from Margret like a light. He didn't know what he was feeling. The air was replaced by something heavy that weighed down on his skin and made his mind go fuzzy.
He wasn't scared though. He knew it was his mom. His body knew he wasn't actually in danger, but the thing didn't like it. It fought and yelled. As it became more irritated, Ren became weak to it. He was sick from the inside, but he tried to mask it from the outside.
Sweat covered his face, but he ignored it.
Mr. Mantel dropped Ren's hand.
Ren wrenched his fist away, embarrassed and so confused by what was going on around him. It wasn't just the fact that his mom knew who the Mantels were in the first place, or that she knew them more closely than he was comfortable with.
It was those eyes.
He rubbed his wrist where Mr. Mantel had grabbed him. It ached where he'd pressed his fingers in hard, leaving red marks. Ren gaped at Margret. The purple glow faded, but he could still see the hints of color.
She was a witch. He already knew that.
But he'd never seen it. This made it real. And he'd never come to terms with it.
He had to now. And he was just fucking done with dealing with all this shit at once. His mind wasn't cut out from all the tugging back and forth.
Mr. Mantel stepped back. He wasn't giving up. The spark in his eyes and the hardness of his mouth told them both that he wasn't done. He was simply letting this go because it was easier.
Ren didn't expect to be grabbed by the bicep and hauled away from the scene. He knew it was his mom, but that didn't help calm the thing. It flared up, seeking for a way to break from the chains Ren tried to use to keep it contained in. He was losing the battle, but it was because of his love and protective nature for his mom that he didn't lash out at her.
The Mantels let them go. But not even halfway down the hall did Mr. Mantel call out to them.
"They made a contract, Margret."
She halted.
Ren looked back. He didn't mean to search Ashton out. It was instinct, a sad need to know what his reaction was to this.
When Ren met Ashton's eyes, he wished he hadn't. Ashton's eyes were narrowed. His brown eyes were darkened by the swirling dark emotions inside of him. If Ren wasn't so tired—so drained—he might have been able to know just what Ashton was thinking.
But he could guess.
Ashton knew about Ren. He knew about him being a witch.
When Ashton looked away, that was when Ren felt the most betrayed. It didn't make sense, but it didn't have to. He was angry and so mad he couldn't do anything. He was helpless, even more so than when he'd been bleeding in Ashton's arms.
There was a brief moment where Margret stared back at Mr. Mantel and Ren stared at Ashton's turned faced. The hall was silent except for the chatter of birds. The bright sunlight streamed in through the large glass windows at the end of the hall. Mrs. Mantel and Kai were spectators but just as much as a threat.
Ren felt when his mom stopped whatever she was doing. The air wasn't as thick and it wasn't suctioning around him.
She turned around.
"Then you'll do your damndest to keep my son alive."
Ren didn't fight as she pulled him down the stairs and out of the front door.
He prepared the entire way back to their house for the dressing down he knew was to come.
Ren had fucked up.
***
Margret slammed the front door close.
Ren opened his mouth—not really sure what he was planning on saying—but before he could get one word out, she held up her hand. She shook her head.
"Stop." She took a deep breath. She closed her eyes as she did and when she opened them, there was something unsteady about them that made Ren sick to his stomach.
This wasn't his mom. Well, this wasn't a side of his mom he'd ever seen before. It was like someone had stripped everything motherly about her away, leaving just a woman who seemed like she was out for murder.
Ren knew that he wasn't a good son. If he was a good son, he wouldn't have found out about being a witch and he would have never met the Mantels. He wouldn't be suffering from this urge to hurt people and he would have kept his mom safe.
The Hunter Society wouldn't know his name and he wouldn't have fucking made a contract with Ashton.
But he always thought he could try harder. He was doing his best and he thought that would make up for some of the things he fucked up.
That wasn't the case though. Not at all.
"I want to make myself clear," she said slowly. She enunciated each word so he couldn't possibly miss them. "I don't give a damn about the Mantels. I care about you, okay?"
Ren's hands were shaking. He nodded.
"Good." She studied his face.
Finally, he saw some resemblance of his mom there.
"Come here." She beckoned him with a hand.
He was hesitant, afraid of the person he'd seen, but it was his mom commanding him now. He let her pull him into her arms and cradle his head like he was a small child. He felt like one. He felt like he was only a foot tall and she was consoling him after he'd had a nightmare. He remembered one night in particular when a strong storm had brought lightning and rolling thunder to the small town. She'd cradled him just like she was now as he cried softly into her chest.
She pressed her hand to the back of his head. Her fingers carded through his hair.
"How long have you known?"
His heart dropped.
"Not long." His throat was dry.
He didn't expect for him to reveal that he knew about that like this. Perhaps he was wishing too much for a better time because if he was being honest with himself, nothing ever went his way. And nothing ever turned out for the better.
She nodded. She pulled away and he was shocked to find tears in her eyes.
His throat constricted even harder.
"Were you going to tell me?" He clenched his fists by his sides.
She looked away. "No."
He was expecting that. He just didn't know that it was going to hurt so much.
He knew he shouldn't be angry. He might have done the same thing if it was his kid he was trying to keep safe. There might have been a bigger target on his back if people found out he was part vampire and part witch.
And how would her life have been?
In some circles, witches were worse than vampires. They were seducers that lured people to the forest and sacrificed them to their Gods.
But he couldn't help feeling so betrayed. She'd lied about everything. She lied about his father for years until he found out the truth from gossipers. She lied about his grandparents not being in her life until he found the pictures in the attic.
And then she lied about him just being part human and vampire.
He furrowed his brows. He glared at the wall behind her. As much as he hated her right then, he couldn't look at her face when he was so angry. It didn't feel right.
"Am I human at all?"
His gut clenched in anticipation.
Please. Please let me at least a little normal.
He needed something to hold onto. He needed a breath of air so he wasn't drowning in all the lies.
She turned away. "I didn't know it mattered."
His anger flared. "Of course it matters. How many full-breeds do you see surviving in this fucking town?"
She whirled back around.
"Don't talk to me like that!"
Her eyes flashed that brilliant blue he'd seen at the Mantels' house. The color was like the moon, but brighter and blue like the ocean under a black light.
Ren slightly cowered back. His knees almost buckled right out beneath him, but the thing was wound up. It didn't see his mom; it saw a threat.
"Being human doesn't solve anything and I won't let anyone shame me for protecting you."
She was shaking, yet she was firm. "We're not human. Not one ounce and I'm proud to say it."
Ren took a step back.
He wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her that all their problems were because they weren't human. But he agreed. He wasn't ashamed of who he was.
Or so he thought.
He just wished he wasn't anything. He wished he didn't have to deal with any of it.
The anger wasn't going away. It was stuck to him like glue.
Confidence struck him and he looked her in the eyes.
"I hate you."
The words were not what he wanted to say. His head was full of thoughts about how he wished she would have told him sooner or that she should have just killed him. But those three words must have been the worst.
Margret's eyes stopped glowing. The blue was snuffed out, returning to a dark brown. Her face fell. The anger that had painted her face in long strokes was replaced with dread.
He wished to take the words back.
But he didn't.
His upper lip curled. "What about the Mantels? What are you hiding about them?"
The flash of blue came back, but it disappeared in the next split-second.
"That's not important."
That made him angrier. He dug his nails harder into the flesh of his palm. He glared at her and this time he wasn't afraid to look in her eyes.
"What do you mean it's not important? They're the Mantels! They're the family that slaughtered thousands of humans during the war and hate anything that isn't a pure vampire! They kneel at the feet of the royal Sangui. How the hell is that not important?"
"Because we're talking about you!"
Margret screamed it. The house shook with the force.
Ren closed his mouth and his eyebrows rose as he stared at her. Her chest heaved and she looked just as shocked as he did.
She lowered her head and hid her face behind her hand. "I'm sorry. That was…that was wrong of me. I just—"
She let out a sigh.
"I don't want to talk about it. Not right now."
She looked so small standing there. He felt sorry for her. He was doing all this for her in the first place, but he wondered if he needed to. She was someone else. She was more powerful than she'd ever led on.
"Will you ever talk about it?"
The elephant in the room had been addressed, but it hadn't been explained. There was something sad about that. He thought finding out he was a witch was hard enough. He never counted on finding out that his mom was up to something just as nefarious as he was.
"I don't know."
Ren saw that one coming.
He turned away. He slumped on the couch and stared out the large window looking out over the backyard. The thing had settled down though it was still chewing on his insides. He'd never fully recovered from what Mrs. Mantel had done to him and he hadn't thought about how he felt about Ashton. He knew the next time he saw Ashton he might not be able to stop himself from attacking him.
He hated his guts right now.
Margret move to stand behind the couch. He felt her and some of her emotions. They were still muffled. He didn't know when he would get that power back fully.
He stared at his hands.
"I have powers," he admitted. He couldn't hide his irritation. Being around her was enough to make him want to punch the wall.
"I could feel them," she said. It was a faint whisper that could have been carried away on the back of a feather.
Ren twisted the hem of his shirt.
"You knew all along?" He spat it out. The foul taste made him feel even worse. It seemed like there wasn't a piece of his life that wasn't tainted with some sort of lie or omission.
"And what did you want me to say? That you were going to grow into strange senses?" He could feel her shaking her head. "I messed up. I'm sorry this is difficult for you, but it's done."
She walked around and sat beside him.
"The Mantels are horrible people. They've done—" She looked up. Her eyes were glistening. "I can't say it. Just know they're worse than what you've already seen."
The thing buzzed in his chest. He and it both agreed that he didn't like the Mantels. Ashton was…tolerable. At best.
He twisted harder on his shirt.
"I know. You don't have to tell me."
"Good." She looked away. They were both staring out the window.
It was strange how he didn't feel as close as he did before to her. He'd always come to her for his problems, spilled his heart, but it was this time, when he really needed it, he couldn't do it.
He wasn't going to lie and say he'd told her everything. There were things he kept away from her out of shame. The bullying, the threats, and how hard the hunger had become. Also the thing that was plaguing him.
Those things were because of his vampire side. Those things were because he was weak and he didn't know how to control himself.
They had nothing to do with her.
"The contract won't end until it's fulfilled. You know that right?"
He tried to keep his cool. He wanted to blame it all on the thing buzzing in his chest, but it wasn't just the thing that was irritated.
"Yes. I know."
She hadn't looked at him. It shouldn't have meant anything. It didn't mean anything.
Yet, it did. Everything she was doing felt like it was pointed right at him. Like she was holding herself back from telling him how much of a disappointment he was. And as much as he tried, he couldn't completely convince himself she wasn't thinking about horrible things about him.
"I'm not going to let you leave the house until you tell me."
Her words were laced with something he couldn't recognize. Of course, when he truly needed his new capabilities, they weren't there. Her emotions were muddled, more so than the Mantels had been. This almost seemed like she was countering him.
His knee bounced. He'd let go of his poor shirt which was now wrinkled and twisted because he'd been toying with it so much. His hands didn't know what to do with themselves and they'd settled into that twitching that he was growing used to.
He licked his lips and watched as a flock of birds flew across the yard.
"You know about those dead kids they found?"
That got her attention.
Her eyes locked onto he side of his face. The intense gaze made him feel like he was a speck in a Petri dish.
"Yes." Her voice was faint. This time, he could tell she was scared. The worry in her voice was echoed in the small room. The walls felt like they were closing in on the two of them.
He was torn between being comforted that she was worried and worried about her reaction.
He looked down at his twitching fingers.
"We found one of them."
She didn't say anything for a long minute.
"What did you do?"
It wasn't an accusation thankfully.
He let out a shaky breath.
"We buried her at first."
"At first?"
He took a glance at her and then looked away again. Her brows were scrunched together and the only way he could describe the look on her face was disbelief.
"I met him there. I didn't know what to do so I just did what he said. We buried her and we left, promising we wouldn't talk about it again."
He covered his face with his hands, leaning over with his elbows on his knees.
"I lost grandpa's ring, Mom. I fucking lost it."
His throat clamped tight and hot tears slowly fell down his face. He choked as the constriction in his throat got worse the more he thought about how stupid he'd been. He hadn't been thinking. How was he supposed to think clearly when he found a dead body and met a full vampire on the same night?
The room was still and silent. His heart pounded in his ears, the blood rushing to his head. He was dizzy and sick to his stomach. The ring. How could he have lost the ring? It was the most important thing on him and he hadn't even thought about it once.
Even his own excuses weren't enough for him.
The silence carried on for far too long. He was angry. Angry at himself and angry at her for making him live through this life. Nothing was working to calm him down and he doubted there were any words she could say to him that would make things better.
She had to hate him. She had to regret ever having him or raising him.
"Look at me."
He couldn't. The hardness in her voice had him shaking.
Then, before he could even sense she was moving, she grabbed his shoulder.
He panicked.
He shoved her hand away. The shock rolled through him, but it was more than that. He was panting as a surge of anger bolted through him. The thing was at the surface. It was sniffing out for blood, hungry, and salivating for mutilation.
His eyes were slightly glazed by hunger. It was no longer just him and the thing. He was the thing. They were both in the same and there was no separation between the two.
He was blind, his own consciousness receding to the dark corners of his mind.
A scream spit through the darkness.
"Ren! Stop!"
Bright blue was gazing back at him and when he could see once more, he had his hands wrapped around her throat.
His eyes widened in horror. He scurried back. He'd pushed her to the floor.
His fangs throbbed and he touched them. He'd been about to bite her.
His mom. The one person he was supposed to protect.
"Ren. It's okay."
She tried to touch him again, but he didn't let her.
"Don't!"
He couldn't look at her. Shame burned his face.
This was what he was. A monster. He was a fuckup. He only ever caused problems and hurt people.
He fumbled to his feet.
"Ren!"
He ignored her cries as he ran to do the door.
And as he ran to the forest, he could still hear them.
It didn't matter. He wasn't going to come back.
He was going to die in the forest and that was going to be the one good thing he ever did.