Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1)

by Lauren Stewart

  “Like now.”

  “Another vampire.”

  “I could offer the vamp my wrist. It takes more time to bleed out from your wrist.”

  “Your cleverness is unparalleled.” Her sarcasm had rubbed off on him. “If you ask politely, I am sure he would be happy to accommodate you in any way he can.”

  “So I’m basically screwed no matter what.”

  “Let me finish. Witches are irritating but smart. Not particularly strong physically, though, and they are a lower race. So, there you have it—given the right circumstances, you could prevail over a witch and a ghost.”

  “But ghosts don’t really do anything.”

  “They can but choose not to. Be on guard for flying objects and you should be fine.”

  “You’re a great help. What would I do without you?”

  “You would die, Addison,” he said softly. “You would die.”

  She said nothing, but her reaction was profound and powerful—as if all light and joy had drained from her, leaving her completely empty, as cold and void as he had been for centuries. Since the time he understood redemption was impossible, so he stopped reaching for it.

  That was the moment Rhyse broke.

  Without warning, he felt himself change, weaken. Lose. He shook with the weight and speed of his transformation, unable to tear his eyes from the being at fault. Rhyse’s strength and power remained as they were, but everything else was different.

  And, as much as he told himself he wished it hadn’t happened, that he’d never met her or tasted her blood, in truth he would have it no other way. If anyone found out, if anyone knew how excruciatingly human he felt, so many would perish.

  Twenty-five

  Rhyse stumbled back a step and then disappeared without a word. But nothing could’ve topped his last ones: ‘You would die, Addison. You would die.’

  True hopelessness sucks. For a moment, Addison wanted nothing more than to curl up into a fetal position and hide in his bed for the rest of her life. It was a long moment, and the desire would probably never be too far from her conscious mind again.

  She’d been lucky so far. No one had found out what she was because she hadn’t even known what she was. But luck always ran out eventually, as did the will to keep fighting. She was so tired of being afraid and things always getting worse, not better. Was it even worth it?

  It wasn’t as if this was the first or second or tenth time she’d thought she was going to die. What made this one different and so much more depressing was because, for once, she’d thought she had a chance to live. What screwed her up had been believing something good might happen and then taking the three-mile drop back to reality. Ironic, because there’d never been a better reason for someone to kill her.

  But this time, she had him. And he was strong and powerful and seemed to think she could do something for him. Somehow, she forgot she was an idiot to hope for anything better and that it wouldn’t always be like this.

  He left her alone for a while. Long enough for her to figure out that she wanted to keep hoping. For her mom and for herself. She wanted to live, and there was only one way that was going to happen.

  “Rhyse!” She found him in the library again, facing the window, his back to her. “You were right—I need…you.” It was beyond horrible to know how much, almost as bad as knowing how much she wanted him. They both knew she was lying every time she claimed not to be interested, but he was waiting for her to admit it. Being patient with her, allowing her to be the one to decide.

  Vampires—let alone their king—didn’t respect seers. But she was dat vitae—something new to him, a novelty.

  “Why are you helping me?” she asked.

  It took him a minute to answer and when he did, he seemed far more irritated than he’d been before that minute had passed. “Because you will help me.”

  What could she possibly do that he couldn’t? “I don’t think that’s the whole reason.”

  “I want my position back and my enemies dead. Is that a satisfactory enough reason for you?”

  “I’m a pain in the ass.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Then why do you put up with me? Why not stick me in the dungeon and find someone you can do your mind-control shit on?”

  “In part, I do not know.” Only his lips moved. “In another, I cannot express it.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  His eyes met hers, holding her—but not with anger, with care. Like you would cradle a wounded animal. “May the powers help me, there are brief moments when I enjoy having you near me.”

  “Oh.”

  “My admission does not mean I will not kill you if necessary.” He walked back to the window, his voice as cold as the frost beyond it. “And of course, you have not yet spread your legs for me, and that is something I look forward to.”

  “You’re going to be looking for a while, then.”

  “I will wait. If it takes forty years, I will wait.”

  She laughed. “In forty years, I’ll be a senior citizen.”

  “And you will still be the most beautiful creature I’ve ever gazed upon.”

  After coughing to cover her shock, she rolled her eyes, thankful he wasn’t facing her. Because there was no way he meant that, and he would’ve enjoyed the depth of her blush. “Ha ha. Vamps only want young and tight. Not wrinkles or imperfection. You may think I’m good enough to fuck now, but give me a few years and I guarantee you’ll lose interest.”

  “I have been surrounded by perfection for hundreds of years. Yet I have known you for a matter of weeks—less than a blink of time for me—and I have never wanted anyone more. You are beautiful and…tight, as you say, but so are millions of other women. Women who would not deny me. Women who would not frustrate me. Yet here I stand. Waiting to hear you say yes. Do you think I would do that for a simple fuck?” He shook his head. “If I wanted only to fulfill a need, I would choose someone who is far less trouble. What I want is more than to own your body for a few nights.”

  “So you want to…own my body for, what, a long weekend?”

  One of the most annoying things about him was his ability to be still, to say nothing, and let her mind go to all the most horrible places it could.

  “No, Addison.” When he finally turned, he didn’t look at her—he looked inside her, making her feel more exposed than she’d ever been. “What I want is to own every part of you. Every part.”

  The way his mouth remained just a tiny bit open was dangerously appealing, bordered by lips that she was dying to feel. Would they be cold because he was dead? Hard like the rest of his body…and his mind? Or would they have just the right amount of give, as soft as they looked from a few feet away, until she didn’t want soft anymore, and he kissed her like she imagined he made love. Hot intensity—

  Oh, shit. She blinked and shook her way back to reality. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t that stupid. It was probably the altitude messing with her brain. The altitude, and him.

  “I need to go home,” she said. “To be around normal people, do something other than this for a while. Please, Rhyse. Or I’m gonna lose it.”

  After a pause, he said, “The city is too dangerous for you still. I can take you somewhere else, near humans, where there is less of a chance we will run into supernaturals. But only if I deem your shield strong enough.”

  She spread her feet apart and bent her knees. “Bring it, Vamp.”

  He stared at her long enough to make her uncomfortable. Then really uncomfortable. Then really, really uncomfortable.

  “Are you reading my mind or imagining me naked?” she asked impatiently.

  “Have I never told you how good I am at multi-tasking?”

  She gasped and turned bright red without losing eye contact. It was tough. “Multi-tasking is impossible. Scientists have proven it.”

  “The same scientists who believe telepathy and the supernatural do not exist?”

  “Are you saying you don’t bel
ieve in science?”

  “Of course not. I am simply proving that scientists are sometimes wrong and that I can do an assortment of other things while imagining you naked.”

  “Can we just get back to the test?” It was no use. Her thoughts bounced from one thing to another. If he could catch one of them, he’d be way ahead of her. She focused on his face—the sharp angles offset by the soft curve of his lips, the way he was still looking at her as if he couldn’t wait to take a big bite out of her neck for another taste of her blood.

  What the hell? “Well…?”

  He nodded solemnly. “You cannot stop thinking how attracted you are to me. Wondering if being with me would compare to all the fantasies you have had of us being together, my body on yours, your hips curling to force me deeper into you.”

  “Whoa, were you off!” Although now she couldn’t think of anything but that. “First, I thought about how your clothes are always perfect even though I’ve never seen a dry cleaning bag around here. And then I wondered if you use a really expensive shampoo or if it’s just part of being undead that keeps your hair so healthy.”

  He sighed. “Mine was far more interesting.”

  “Did I pass your test?”

  “You have earned a short break. A very short break.” He spoke as he walked to the door. “When clothes are left in plastic, they become musty. All senses—including smell—are heightened in my kind; therefore, I choose my toiletries not by price but by scent.”

  He turned around slowly. “And I look at you as I do not because I want to taste your blood, but because I find you incredibly beautiful and fascinating.” He cocked his head to the side. “Although, I suppose if you removed the blood from your assertion, it would be accurate. I would very much like to taste you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. But not to speak, because she couldn’t think of a single fucking thing to say.

  “You need more practice, Addison, and more discipline.”

  What she needed was a way to burn off all this sexual frustration. Or she was going to combust.

  Twenty-six

  After a few more exhausting hours of bickering and training, Addison gave up. She couldn’t concentrate at all anymore. Of course, he chastised her for that because danger didn’t wait patiently until she was ready to focus and blah, blah, blah.

  She wasn’t stupid and she wasn’t a baby, even though she slammed the bathroom door behind her like a petulant child. But she was tired, homesick, and possibly experiencing a slow, drawn-out mental breakdown.

  He didn’t understand because he wasn’t even close to human, but if he kept drilling and pushing her, she would lose it permanently. Maybe that’s what he was going for—to drive her completely insane so supers wouldn’t dare look inside her screwed-up head.

  After an hour of peaceful alone time, he phased just in front of her.

  “Stop doing that!” she snapped, her hand over the heart that had almost burst. “I’m not immortal.”

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  “A few hours ago. Why?”

  “I do not want you to vomit.” He grabbed her waist, spun her around, and pulled her against him.

  She’d have to ask him about these travel arrangements because feeling as much as she could feel when their bodies were smashed together wasn’t conducive to clean thoughts. Although it did give her extra incentive to block him out of her mind. In the time it took her to blink, they were somewhere else. Somewhere warm and humid.

  “Where are we?” In an enormous house with huge windows and brightly colored walls, furniture, and accents—way too cheery to belong to a vamp.

  “My home in St. Lucia.” Of course he had a home in St. Lucia. Why wouldn’t he? If Addison had an exorbitant amount of money made over a couple centuries, she’d probably have a home in St. Lucia, too. She went to the window and looked down onto a long slope. The moon was high, making the water shimmer and providing enough light to see a hotel in the middle of a fishing village at the base of the mountain.

  “Impressive. Do you bring all the people you kidnap here?”

  “I am not your jailer, Addison. If you would truly prefer I bring you to the city, I will.” He walked away from her, going outside. “You can pretend you are a seer and enjoy your freedom right up until you are killed. I hope six or seven minutes of freedom is enough for you.”

  Stepping carefully to avoid muddy areas, she followed him into a forest of tropical fruit trees. It smelled incredible. The sweetness of exotic fruit mixed with the fresh, earthy scent of a very recent rain.

  “Seers aren’t free—they’re owned by the collective whether you admit it or not. We’re drafted, told what job we’re best suited for, and we do what we’re supposed to.”

  “I think I preferred your company while you were asleep.”

  “Yeah well, if I could, I’d tie you to my bed again.” Damn it. Insults don’t work when they sound that kinky. “You’re the Prime. Why don’t you change things?”

  He picked a mango off one of the trees and handed it to her. “The politics of our world are not simple. Different factions, different needs, different methods of attaining those needs. The system we have today is the best answer to all of that. Yes, there are drawbacks and not everyone gets what they want. However it is much better than it used to be.”

  “Are you serious?” she asked, wiping the mango juice from her chin. “Not everyone gets what they want? I think everyone is pretty happy with what they get. Everyone except the seers.”

  “We all have our jobs to do, our roles to play.”

  “Around a hundred and fifty years ago—you may remember ’cause you were probably there—slavery was abolished in the states. Which side were you on?”

  When he stopped and turned, he looked offended. “The inequality and injustices of the human world have absolutely nothing to do with me.”

  “Then what about the inequality in the Heights? What about the seers?”

  “The seers are not slaves. They hold key positions that allow our world to exist without inflicting incredible damage on the human world. Would a human trash collector consider him or herself a slave? Of course not. Seers are paid, choose their own place of living, their own mate and, with the proper visas, can travel anywhere in the world.” He started walking again.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it is for a toy to get out of the box?”

  “Exactly the same as for the typical human born in poverty. This is not something new to either world. Those raised with means are educated and able to find work in a field of their choosing. Those who are not so fortunate must work harder to free themselves and get where they desire to be. Ours is no different than any other society. Except we have fewer laws.”

  “And if someone breaks one, they die.” She almost ran into him when he stopped suddenly, turned slowly.

  “When a member of the Highworld breaks a law, many die, Addison. From both worlds.”

  “But—” She stopped talking because she was afraid he was right. And he’d had a few more hundred years to come up with a good argument.

  “I do not know a way to make you understand,” he said softly. “Not because I think you are unintelligent—you are remarkably so for someone with your lifespan—but because, if I were to tell you more, I would lose everything.” Cupping her chin in his hand, he ran his thumb along her jaw, wiping a drop of juice off. “And then who would you have to torment?”

  “No one’s irreplaceable.” That sounded a lot breathier than she would’ve liked.

  He looked at her intently for a moment. “Completely erroneous, Addison. In my years, I have encountered two beings so singular, to replace them or to forget them would be utterly impossible.”

  Twenty-seven

  ~ ~ ~

  Tempest & Graham

  Tempest stared at Graham, wondering when he’d lost his mind. “So we’re just not going to mention it to anyone and hope they don’t notice?”

  Graham turned to her. “If anyone
finds out Rhyse is missing, they will presume he is dead. Then the fight for the crown will begin and, if the new king isn’t strong enough, the other races may vie to become Prime.”

  “We’re just putting off the inevitable.”

  “You and I are in service to King Rhyse, Prime of the North American zone. When a new king takes power, the first thing he will do is kill all of those close to the old king. Is that something you’re in a rush to have happen?”

  “No,” she grumbled.

  “Then we wait until we are absolutely sure he is gone. Until someone takes responsibility or you read something in someone’s mind, we keep looking. Once a new king is crowned, there will be no need to put off the inevitable, Tempest. It will happen regardless of what we do—thus my use of the word ‘inevitable’. So, I would like to make sure we’ve tried everything before then.”

  “What’s the plan for when he doesn’t show up at the Treaty celebration?”

  “I will cover for him.” He looked solemn, more than usual, but he was talking more than she’d ever heard him talk. Tempest wasn’t sure why Graham was so devoted to the Prime, more than anyone else, or why he couldn’t admit the Prime might be dead. She already had her finger on the escape button and would push it for both of them if she had to.

  “If a vampire is to blame,” Graham said, “that is when they will most likely lay claim to the throne.”

  “And if they do?”

  “If they do, we will kill them before they kill us. Then we enjoy ourselves as much as we can before the next new king sends a demon after us.”

  “Why don’t you just take over?”

  “I’ve stood beside our king for over a century, Tempest, so I know what the position entails. And I would rather meet the sun than claim the crown.”

  Twenty-eight

  After Rhyse watched her explore the house and gardens a bit, he took her to the village at the base of the mountain. She was pretending to be annoyed, but it was impossible for her to contain her excitement. Because of the time of night, the street was almost empty, so she babbled on about the architecture of the buildings and the sound of the waves.