Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1)

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Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) Page 7

by Lauren Stewart


  She glanced back and saw him…ignoring every other human on the street. He chased only her, his easy strides overtaking her panicky, lame ones. Fumbling along the sidewalk in search of a shred of sunlight, she headed for the closest intersection, pushing people out of the way and hurdling over a leash stretched between a man and his dog.

  Even though good manners seemed far less important than running for her life, she said ‘sorry’ to everyone she bumped into or mowed over, or who jumped out of the way. Unfortunately, she was creating a long line of pissed-off people for him to follow.

  A couple drops of blood and he goes fucking ballistic. Why did he tell her to run? So murdering her would be more fun?

  The past couple days flashed through her mind. At the end of each, a big ‘you’re so fucking stupid’ sticker was slapped across the image.

  You can’t trust a vamp. You can’t think a vamp wants to be friends or will take pity on you or feel obligated to you when you help them. They are killers and the only thing that stops them from killing whoever they want to is the Treaty and the threat of execution.

  But he was the Prime. So rules were nonsense everybody else had to follow.

  Wood. Look for wood. Or a church.

  She didn’t even hear him. But she sure as hell felt his hand on the back of her neck. She stumbled and heard him curse as she fell out of his grasp. She scrambled to her feet and turned.

  “I told you to run,” he growled, taunting. Why was he being so cruel?

  She was going to die. Here in the street. Shit. She couldn’t die in the street. All these humans would witness him tearing her apart, and they’d have to get wiped. If she was going to die anyway, she couldn’t ruin their lives on her way out.

  She yanked open a glass door and ran into…a high-end kitchenware shop. Look for a weapon. While she pawed through the display to grab a large silver kitchen platter, she heard the ding of the doorbell. She turned around, holding the platter in front of her like a shield. A shitty shield.

  His eyes burned red. Some breeds of demon’s eyes were red, not vamps. But it wasn’t the color that meant death—it was the darkness behind them.

  “Did you know?” he asked as he walked forward.

  Two women stood behind the counter, one with a phone in her hand. “I’m calling the police if you don’t get out right now.”

  “Call them!” Addison yelled. Even the Prime couldn’t avoid trouble if the human police were involved. Probably.

  “I’ll do it,” the woman said.

  He looked in their direction and closed his eyes.

  “Don’t!” Addison screamed, lunging forward.

  Can’t move faster than a vamp. The women looked stunned, blinking as if they’d just woken up. And then they crumbled, falling behind the counter as if they’d gone back to sleep. When they woke up for real, they wouldn’t remember anything. Unless they’d been wiped a few times prior to this. Then instead of waking up, they’d live in a permanent nightmare filled with monsters and shadows.

  His steps faltered as if he was running out of steam, but he kept moving. Addison bumped into a display table and scooted to the side so she could go around. She bolted for the counter the women had fallen behind, hoping to…shit…to get the phone and dial 9-1-1 before he drained her completely. Good luck with that.

  She didn’t make it. He grabbed her from behind and she spun, holding that stupid silver platter in front of her until he yanked it from her and tossed it over his shoulder.

  “Stainless steel,” he said. “You should know the difference.”

  She stumbled back until her ass hit the counter. It was over. It had been over ever since those chains came off. Ever since she brought him into her apartment. Into her life.

  “I saved you. I could’ve left you outside until the sun came up.”

  “I imagine you wish you had.”

  “Can you…can you not kill me? Just take some, but not all?”

  He brushed her hair behind her shoulder and curled his fingers around the nape of her neck, whispering, “Do you trust me that much?”

  “I don’t even trust you a little.” She felt the sting of tears. “I don’t want to be turned. If you drain me, let me die.”

  He ran his other hand up her shoulder, to her throat and slowly closed his fingers around it. One wrong move and her neck would break. “To drain you I would have to drink from you. And that, my pet, I will not do.”

  She didn’t know what he meant, but now seemed like a bad time to argue.

  The red in his eyes wasn’t as bright as it had been. “Did you know what you are? How many of you exist?”

  She didn’t answer, partially because speaking required the air he was cutting off. Then his hands were gone, just like the rest of him.

  Was it over?

  One of the women behind the counter moaned. What the fuck? Addison went to make sure they weren’t hurt.

  Rhyse was on top of her, his fangs obviously burrowed in her neck. The woman moaned again, her legs wrapping around him. One hand clutched his shoulder and the other slapped the wall, searching for a hold.

  It had to have been shock that made Addison not look away. Or run away. The woman’s moans got louder, then crested, and her body went limp. Not in a dead way but in an I-just-had-the-best-orgasm-of-my-life way.

  Get out of here.

  “Leave and they will die.” His voice stopped her after only two steps. “Stay and they will wake up from a very pleasant, very erotic dream.”

  She ground her teeth when she heard another moan. He must have moved on to the other woman. With two to feed from, there was less of a chance he would drain them, but… “Why should I trust you?”

  The woman’s moans stopped and she whined, “No,” in frustration.

  “I do not care if you trust me,” he said. “Only that you obey me.”

  “Fuck you.” But she didn’t move. “Are they alive?”

  “Of course. It is against the law to kill humans.”

  “Then let me go.”

  “You are not human, Addison.” His voice came from just over her shoulder.

  “I am. I promise. Totally human.” Somehow he’d missed the fact that seers were human, despite her telling him at least five times.

  She heard the shuffling of fabric and looked down to see him wrapping his already-bloody shirt around the arm she’d cut. He tied a knot with the sleeves and pulled it tight. Was he worried about a little blood slipping out and being wasted? There was no part of this that she understood.

  She sucked in a breath when he put his hands on her hipbones. Then another as they slid to her belly and down, pressing her back into him. She felt his heat and a vibration on her back as he made a sound similar to a cat’s purr but scarier. Clenching her eyes shut, she waited for death.

  “You should thank them.” His voice was all sex. Dangerous, risky, awesome sex. “They just saved your life.”

  They did? “Thank you,” she called out with a shaking voice. “Now that your belly’s full, how about you back off a little?”

  “I should kill you.”

  “I totally disagree.”

  After a moment he stepped away, sighing as if he’d just made a really tough decision and wasn’t sure it was the right one.

  “So,” she said, heading for the door, “it seems like you’re feeling better, which is great. I’m really happy for you. Since you don’t need me anymore, I’m gonna go now. See you around.”

  “Come to me, Addison.” His eyes were back to their original inhumanly beautiful color. Though he didn’t quite look calm, he did look satisfied.

  “No.”

  “Come to me or I will snap your neck.”

  “Okay.”

  “If you had simply brought a human to me, this all could have been avoided.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” Total lie—she wasn’t thinking a goddamn thing besides, ‘Shiiiiit!’

  “You and I have things to discuss and a few memories to alter
along the way back to your home.”

  Damn it on many counts. “Alter or wipe?”

  “Alter, of course. Although my strength has returned, wiping that many minds would still be highly taxing. I prefer to save my power for other activities.”

  Like…? Nah, she didn’t want to know.

  He opened the door and gestured for her to go first. Which he’d probably never done before. Minions opened doors for him and she doubted chivalry ranked high on his list of valuable traits. But she went because when you gotta go, you gotta go.

  “Did you know?” he asked.

  What was it with that question? “Know what? That your victims come while you feed? Yeah, I heard it happens occasionally.”

  “Always. They always come while I feed. If it were possible, I would show you.”

  “I just heard more proof than I wanted, thanks.”

  “It would be far more enjoyable to feel yourself come than to hear her do it.” He walked behind her so closely, their steps exactly in sync. In sync with a vampire.

  “Obviously you’re good to go, at least enough to chase and almost kill me,” she said. “So my work here is done and you should probably go home. Your own home.”

  “That is no longer an option.”

  “Do you mind explaining why?”

  “Because I now know what you are.”

  “You’re new to explaining things, aren’t you? I’m going to need more than that, preferably something that makes sense.” Crap. She stopped abruptly. If he wasn’t a vamp, he would have crashed into her, but he was, so he didn’t.

  “I don’t know where we are,” she said. “My work route is in the opposite direction, so I don’t come to this side very often. Especially not the backstreets—they aren’t safe.”

  “You are safe with me.”

  “Says the guy who barely stopped himself from murdering me a minute ago.”

  “But I did stop. And prior to that, I very graciously told you to run.” He paused. “It was a need, greater than the hunger.” His voice softened, as if he didn’t understand what was going on, either. “I would have killed you if I’d caught you before its effects wore off.”

  “Effect of what?”

  “Do you really not know?” He spun her around. “Let me into your mind.”

  She shrugged. “Even if I knew how to let you, I wouldn’t.” The idea of a vamp poking around in her head was hugely unpleasant. If he was going to poke around anywhere, she’d prefer another location. Ugh, really? Thoughts like that were yet another reason why she couldn’t ‘let him into her mind.’ Stress was making her hormonal—a completely normal human reaction to living at the brink of death…always.

  “Do not move.” If he wasn’t gripping her arms so tightly, she would’ve run for it—totally useless, but why make it even easier for him to kill her? He shut his eyes and relaxed, a smug look on his face. “Yes, it would be as enjoyable as you imagine. But right now, think about my question: Did you know what your blood would do to me?”

  There was no way her blood had created that reaction. He’d barely had any. And she’d just gotten a checkup—she was cootie-free.

  “How could you not know?” He opened his eyes to look at her in wonder. “You are correct in that you carry no disease, not that human diseases affect me. But neither do they affect you. I reacted to your blood…because it is not human.”

  What the hell? Why was she even listening and considering the idea that he might not be psychotic? Of course, she was human. “Ye—”

  “Your protestations do not change anything. Vampires know many things and one of the things we know best is blood. Yours is not human.” He turned her around by her shoulders and shoved her forward. “If you are what I believe you are, then we both have grave problems. We will speak of it no more until we are inside.”

  Addison stopped thinking, because nothing in her mind right now was good or even coherent. She focused on her feet. One foot, then the other. Repeat. Don’t run into walls. That was pretty much the extent of her current capabilities. She definitely wasn’t going to think about blood or humans or not-humans or murder or anything other than her feet.

  Back at her apartment, the first thing out of his mouth wasn’t an explanation—at least not one that made sense. “I believe you are dat vitae.”

  There’s a point at which the human brain is in such a state of shock that it becomes utterly useless. And, despite what the mad king over there claimed, Addison was human and had a human brain. A human brain that was well beyond the point of utter uselessness. Therefore, had he told her she was on fire, her reaction would’ve been the same.

  She shrugged. “Okay.”

  He took her by the shoulders, making her focus on him. “It is said that the dat vitae died out long before even my human life began. Whoever said that was wrong.”

  Twelve

  Although all oracles were blind, it didn’t seem appropriate to visit bare chested. Rhyse’s shirt was ruined even before it came in contact with Addison’s blood, so he slipped his suit jacket on, catching her stare with his own.

  “I just wanted to see how your booboo is doing,” she said uncomfortably.

  He ran his hand across his chest. Once he’d fed and she had removed the splinters—wood and silver—the wound had healed as it should have and left no scar.

  “How considerate of you.” While he appreciated beauty, he was not moved by it. He knew his own attractiveness, as did all of his kind, as should all beings. Yet Addison seemed unaware of how the light caressed her cheekbones, how her eyes reflected the life inside her. Perhaps because she’d grown up as a human, she held the same insecurities they all did. Except she was no more human than he was.

  On the scale of worst-case scenarios, his current situation could very well break the scale. Although the violent effects of her blood had faded, his would-be assassin was still unknown, and standing in front of him was a being who could tear the entire Highworld apart. He should kill her now and walk away, but for the first time, his curiosity overwhelmed his commonsense.

  Regardless, before he killed her, he had to find out if she was alone—if more dat vitae lived in his zone or any other. He hoped he was wrong, that he’d reacted as he had and now felt so different for another reason. There was only one way to know for certain without exposing either of them. An oracle.

  But the oracle wouldn’t talk to him about another. She would, however, talk to the being herself. Addison.

  Rhyse wouldn’t be allowed to ask the oracle about the dat vitae without Addison there. Therefore, he couldn’t kill her yet, not until he knew how many other vitae there were in the world.

  The first taste of her was divinity, not because he hadn’t fed in a long while, but for the same reason it was poison. As the deadly nightshade’s beauty disguises its danger, so too did her blood. He’d felt pain tear through him, take over his mind and make him lose control. If he’d taken more, if he’d fed from her vein, his violence would have forced him to tear her apart barehanded. Even the silver chains were nothing against the craving for her murder. Only because he’d had so little was he able to control himself inasmuch as he had, until the effect passed through him, as would a snake’s venom for a human.

  As it was, he’d lost a bit of himself already. He felt it. The taint of her blood had changed him, made him less than he was. He knew this as he knew himself. Although, perhaps he didn’t know himself as well as he had hours ago.

  If what he believed was true, Addison was a being from time lost, one he’d heard whispers of centuries ago, but who no longer existed. Tales of a supernatural’s self, immortality, and power stolen and replaced with humanity, in all its weakness.

  “Get dressed,” he said. “We must go out.”

  “I am dressed and I’m kind of tired.” Her voice was weak. “I had a hard day. Why don’t you go without me?”

  His eyes ran the length of her, lingering in a few areas more than others. Her face was near perfection, her neck divin
e, all the way down to where her unfortunate shirt began. He could tell that her waist was small, her hips curved, her legs long and fit, but they were covered by a hideous fabric that formed some sort of pant. The horror ended at dirty running shoes. Why she chose to hide under clothing he was hard pressed to refer to as clothing was beyond him.

  “I meant get dressed in something you do not sleep in.”

  “I don’t sleep in these,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. “These are my work clothes.” Her voice dropped to a mumble no human could hear. “And my off-work clothes.”

  “You deliberately dress to look unattractive. Why?”

  Her jaw dropped open. “Excuse me? It might be a good idea to be a little nicer. Because, in case you didn’t notice, I saved your life.”

  “And then tried to kill me—first with a stake, then sunlight, and then with your blood. Although each was unsuccessful, attempts were made.”

  “I’m not changing my clothes. And I’m not going anywhere.”

  “If you value your life—as horrible as it may be—you will come with me.”

  “Where?”

  Why must she always question him? It was infuriating, and he’d killed beings for far less. But he neither desired to see her executed nor for her to continue directing her inappropriate frustration at him. “We must speak with someone who knows more about the dat vitae than any other, even the historians.”

  “I’m not dat whatever. Promise. Maybe you’re just allergic to me or something.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes, as if the actions would negate the truth.

  “I have tasted the blood of every race except theirs. And I have heard stories.”

  “Like bedtime stories? Because those are made up, mostly to teach morality. So, obviously it couldn’t have been those.”

  “I hope you are amusing yourself, because your chiding does nothing but make me want to gag you. This may mean your death; therefore, you may want to pay attention.”

  She glared at him. “What in the last few days hasn’t meant my death?”

  He didn’t answer her directly because they both already knew what it would be. “You are not what you have always believed yourself to be. Are you not curious to find out more?”

 

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