Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1)

by Lauren Stewart

  He kept his focus solely on searching for magic. If they ran into another supernatural, Addison could try out her new skill in the field until Rhyse killed the being.

  “Do they have good food here?” she asked happily.

  “I do not know.”

  “You’re missing out on life’s greatest pleasure.”

  He watched her in total disagreement. He missed nothing—the joy he’d somehow brought her with a one-second phase, the slow rising of her chest as she breathed in deeply, contentedly. She pleased him. Far more than food ever could.

  Yet he had never felt more damned. This, whatever it was, had to stop immediately. “Food is like sleep—enjoyable but unnecessary.”

  “Then if you brought that big wad of cash, why don’t we go enjoy an unnecessary meal together?” How could she be so adaptable? He hadn’t been aware it was possible in humans—to anguish or fight one moment, then be content and amused the next. Perhaps it was a trait of the dat vitae.

  They sat in the hotel’s outdoor dining area with a direct view of the water. She asked the server about everything on the menu, unable to decide.

  “Sometimes you do not have to make a choice, Addison. Order all of them if you’d like.”

  “Only someone with too much money would say that. It would be incredibly wasteful”—she handed the menu to the server with a smile and then looked at Rhyse—“but I’m totally fine with wasting your money for you.”

  “Money can be wasted. Life should not.”

  “I don’t get you,” she said after the server had gone. “One minute you’re a predator and the next you’re almost normal. Am I missing something?”

  Yes. As was he. Whatever was happening between them was foreign, unparalleled, but he could not deny its existence. He enjoyed her company as he never had with another being.

  Except Addison not only brought him joy, she brought him danger. Each moment with her carried risk. He had never spared the life of an enemy and yet here he was, admiring the most dangerous being he’d ever come across. The way she fidgeted uncomfortably under his gaze, her awkward pauses when she had something to say but refused to speak the words. Not out of fear of death. Out of fear of getting what she wanted.

  Him. She wanted him almost as badly as he wanted her, and she was broadcasting it loudly.

  “You are not shielding at all, Addison.”

  A blush filled her cheeks. “Shit.”

  “The topic of your thoughts aside, your shield needs to become second nature, a muscle memory not a sympathetic reaction.”

  “I should’ve killed you while I had the chance.” She lifted her glass. “Then I never would have known what I was and wouldn’t need to shield.”

  “Until even the smallest amount of your blood was spilled and consequently you were murdered.”

  She coughed. “Yeah, well…yeah.” Once the food arrived, she spoke only about what she liked and what she detested. She demanded he try a few items and he acquiesced. To her demand. Unparalleled. Impossible.

  Once she finished eating, she squirmed in her chair, as if she was gearing herself up for something. As if she needed a running start to break through her inertia to speak.

  “You will hurt yourself if you delay any longer,” he said. “Say what you would say.”

  “Okay look, I enjoy an outing as much as the next hostage, but I really want to go home. My real home. In the city.”

  “Even if it means your death?”

  “You’re such a good teacher that I can shield now. It was the last grueling and truly awful hour that did it. Try me again.”

  “You are expecting it. Therefore, it is not a true test.”

  “Then do it hard and see if you can get in.”

  “Addison—”

  “Please, Rhyse. Just try.”

  On a sigh, he tried, pressing into her lightly, feeling her, testing her strength. Then harder but with care—too much too quickly would create damage.

  Her gasp was breathy. “Oh shit, I think I can feel you.”

  He pushed harder, feeling her press back with equal force. Her hands gripped the sides of the table, her mouth slightly open, the movement of her chest proving the shallowness of her breath.

  Where did her strength come from? Her magic or her soul?

  Her eyes seared into his when they weren’t fighting to close. He knew the reaction was only because she was concentrating, trying to forbid him entrance into her, but the reason didn’t matter. And it would drive him insane if it continued much longer.

  When it became a choice between pulling away from her or throwing the table out of the way and taking her as hard as he desired, he broke contact and closed his eyes to reclaim control.

  “Wow, that was…wow. I felt a ton of pressure building up, but no pain.” She let out a deep breath and smiled. “So…did you get inside me? Did I miss it?”

  “No, Addison.” He looked towards the water. “Once I have been inside you, you will miss me whenever I am not.”

  She cleared her throat. “You really should let me go, Rhyse. You’ve spent so much time with an almost-human that you’re picking up bad habits.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The corners of your mouth were fidgeting. See! They’re doing it again,” she teased. “It’s almost as if you were smiling.”

  “I do not fidget, and I do not smile.”

  She smirked, pointing to the corner of his mouth. “Then what do you call that?”

  “You”—are magical—“are very frustrating.”

  “I know a way to make me less frustrating. You could take me home and let me go back to my life.”

  He didn’t want to. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt this way, the last time he’d smiled. An immortal lifetime of amusements that weren’t amusing, of females who were nothing more than bodies to fulfill a need. Addison was so much more than that. She didn’t do what he told her to do. She didn’t listen. She questioned everything, and was incredibly annoying. Challenged him, angered him, and made him happy. So full of life and flaws and frailty, she moved him.

  And he wanted her. The fact that she wouldn’t have him made him want her all the more, until his body reacted in a foreign way. A hurt different than he’d woken up with but equally as painful. As the Prime, his expectations were met before he spoke. Everything was provided for him. He never questioned how. A want fulfilled before it had time to grow into a need.

  Now…he didn’t just want Addison. He needed her.

  When the restaurant shut down, Rhyse paid for everything Addison had ordered. He also included a very large tip. The restaurant staff had all gone home happy, leaving them to stay as long as they wanted.

  “Why am I here, besides the fact that you want to get into my pants?” she asked. “I’m terrible company. I make you yell and break furniture and grumble under your breath a lot. I’m sure you can find someone else to do your bidding who will be a heck of a lot easier to be with.”

  “Undoubtedly.” He paused. “Perhaps it is because you make me feel…young.”

  She laughed. “Like you’re only one hundred again?”

  “Hardly,” he scoffed. “More like one hundred and fifty or so.”

  “Careful, Rhyse, the corners of your mouth are fidgeting again.”

  “It is your fault—your humanity is leaking all over me. In fact, there have been a few terrible moments recently when I felt almost human again.”

  She lowered her eyes and picked at a flaw on the wooden table. “You hated being human that much?”

  Yes, he did. “I hated being afraid, being hungry, and not in control of anything.” Now his only fear was for her safety, his only hunger for her, and the only thing he couldn’t control was her. Damn it. His power blended with the foreign sense of humanity that only a small amount of her blood and having her near had given him.

  “Being human nowadays isn’t that bad. I mean, now you probably wouldn’t be starving or have the same kinds of issues as you did
back in the old days.”

  “Humans will always be afraid, will always strive to control what cannot be controlled.”

  “True, but it has its perks.”

  “Such as?” When he’d lost his sense of fear, he also lost the feeling of adrenaline and excitement in doing something new. As a vampire, taking risks meant nothing. Fear was integral to life, mortality integral to living. He’d never realized it before. Addison had taught him and, in doing so, had weakened him.

  “Well, for starters, humans can have a good time without their faces cracking. You should try it. Let go a little.” She reached towards him.

  “What are you doing?” He held himself away.

  “I wanted to show you that a smile won’t kill you or make you any less kingly.”

  He took her hands and set them down on the table, covering them with his until he realized it.

  So weakened. Far more than he’d been with a stake in his chest. He should kill her now. Her earlier meal could be considered her last and she seemed content. A being couldn’t expect much more than that before they died. It would take him three seconds to snap her beautiful neck, and then he would be free.

  He should kill her. And he would.

  A bit later.

  Twenty-nine

  “Stop looking at me like you want to eat me,” she said. “I’m not a healthy choice, remember?”

  His expression didn’t change. “Have you ever had one of us?”

  She rocked back in her chair. “A vamp? Why do you want to know that?”

  He stared at her intensely, silently. Borderline scarily.

  Wait a minute. “What, are you jealous?”

  “Of course not. I ask only out of curiosity.” He didn’t look curious. He looked…possessive, as if someone had just laid claim to his favorite toy. She was not his toy.

  “You want a list of names or what?” Not that the list would have anything on it. The first quality Addison looked for in a potential sexual partner was humanity—one hundred percent humanity.

  “No. The names do not matter. I will be better.”

  “Jesus. Cocky much?”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I know I will be better because I have no greater goal than to see your face in ecstasy. No greater desire than to hear you cry out my name as you come, over and over. Feel you shudder and go limp under me, unable to control your own body. Unable to think or breathe or remember anything but what it felt like to have me inside you. That is why I will be better. Not because I’m arrogant. Because I will do everything in my power to make it the best experience of your life.”

  “Oh.” Crap. She needed to think of a bunch of comebacks for when he said shit like that. Because ‘oh’ and ‘um’ weren’t cutting it.

  “You will see soon enough.”

  She cleared her throat. “What’s the day after ‘never’ called? That’s when I’ll say yes.”

  “Not that long, I promise you. ‘Yes’ is a very small word, so easy to say. After you say it, you will take back every insult you’ve ever said to me, you will beg for more, and you will understand exactly who I am and what I can do.”

  She kept her mouth shut because whatever she said would sound completely lame. He was probably right about all of it. Even now, she could feel the change in her. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore, which was incredibly stupid. Even stupider, she was actually starting to like him. Her captor, her enemy, the sexiest being she’d ever seen, was also the only one who could keep her safe. The only one who wanted to keep her safe.

  But what did her in, what was the most confusing and horrible, were the moments of kindness that seeped through his bored and condescending demeanor. She didn’t think he even noticed when it was happening. Little hints of something deeper, something unbelievable, something practically illegal. Beyond needing her help to find out who tried to kill him and beyond the oracle’s claims that they would be safer if they stayed together.

  No, this was almost as if he cared about her.

  Id-i-ot. Stockholm syndrome at its finest. Any second, he could decide she was too much trouble and go find some other idiot to help him. Right after he murdered her.

  “I’m not ready to go back. Can I walk around a little? Burn off a few thousand calories?” Have a chance to breathe?

  They walked through the village, her full tummy and empty mind slowing them down.

  “This friend of yours,” he said as they stepped onto the sand. “The diversion. Tell me about him.”

  “Logan? He’s a toy in the Ladon Box. At least, he was the last time I saw him. Supposedly, he’s very sought after.”

  “That is a good thing. A more desired diversion commands a higher price and receives more gifts and other desirables.”

  “Wow. Okay, I can’t believe I’m explaining this to you. But, yeah, that’s the theory—and stop calling them diversions, they should at least be able to decide what they’re called.” She paused. “Don’t you have minions to tell you this stuff?”

  “Yes,” he said, looking at her pointedly.

  “I’m today’s minion, aren’t I?” When he didn’t answer, she sighed and continued. “Once a seer is put into a box, it’s better for them to be good at their job, which is why they work out so much and all that, but getting more money doesn’t mean they have it any better. Just like in the human world, the wealth doesn’t always go to the nicest and most thoughtful people. So while fewer supers can afford Logan, the ones who can aren’t as…respectful of his time or his body.”

  His steps slowed. “He is abused?”

  “Very.”

  “That does not make sense. The diversion system is built on the idea that the house is responsible for his welfare. Not adequately caring for him means they are going against their own best interests—legally and financially.”

  “Just that is proof that you haven’t been to one.”

  “I told you I have not.”

  “Right.” And the moment she trusted a vamp was the moment she deserved to die.

  Thirty

  Addison stared at her reflection for a really long time. The corset was painful, the dress was gorgeous, and neither of things mattered because there was no way in hell this was going to work. She found Rhyse in his usual place—staring out the window of his library.

  “I know I said I would do this, but I can’t. Isn’t there something else I could do? Anything else?” Anything that didn’t cause tremors? “There’s just no way I can go with you to this thing.”

  He whipped his head around. “Well, of course you cannot go with me. I am not going.”

  “What?”

  “You have misunderstood what is going to happen. I am not going to the celebration.”

  “No, I’m the one not going.”

  “If my enemies were to see me, they would know their efforts were not successful. We made a bargain, Addison. I held up my end, and now it is your turn. Do you want me out of your life or not?”

  “Yes.” It came out all whiny, damn it.

  “Then you are going.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Even whinier. Seriously, his vampire-enhanced hearing had to be hurting by now.

  “It will take two minutes to find out who has claimed my position. The vampire, or vampires, who are celebrating were the ones who plotted against me.”

  “Don’t you have any friends you could call and ask?”

  “Vampires do not have friends. We have peers, underlings, and apart from the Primes of each zone, superiors. But we do not befriend each other. Anyone I call may be the being who staked me. Therefore, it is your commission to find out what I need to know.”

  “No way. I don’t care who wanted you dusted.”

  “Stop using that expression. It is incredibly rude.”

  “Rude?” Unable to stay still any longer, she paced—not an easy thing to do without full breaths and with stupidly high heels. “What do you call sending me into a room full of bloodsuckers?”

  “Two minu
tes, Addison. You will have your badge. You will not be noticed beyond that.”

  “It’s not tattooed on me. What if I drop it?”

  “Hmm… Point made.” He looked at her neck, inhaling deeply. “I shall have to claim you.”

  “Hell, no! Wait. Have you completely forgotten that I’m death in a skirt? You can’t drink from—” She stumbled backwards, her hands out in front of her. As if that would stop him. “No fucking way.”

  He smirked. “Then you have heard of the alternative claiming ritual?”

  She had. “You creatures and your bodily fluid exchanges.” More pacing helped her shake it off. “I’m not screwing you to get into a party I don’t want to go to.”

  “Then hold tightly onto that badge.”

  So what if Addison saw it in a stupid vision and a crazy lady said it was gonna happen and Rhyse may have mentioned on more than one occasion that he’d be up for it and Addison found him incredibly attractive and couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like? It wasn’t going to happen. That timeline had changed.

  “You had your chance when I was all distraught, and you blew it. Actually, you had multiple chances if you count the three days I was asleep.”

  “You are suggesting I should regret not taking advantage of you while you were upset or unconscious?”

  “First off, I doubt you could even feel regret. And second, I’m just surprised you didn’t.”

  “Another time, then. In fact, you look quite tired, Addison. Perhaps you should take a nap.”

  She was ninety-nine percent sure he was teasing her.

  “No nap? Very well, until then, if you would like to not be claimed by a guest at the celebration…”

  “Not that I’m going to the stupid party, but if I did and you were to claim me in that way—not that I’d let you—your stench would be all over me and they’d know you were still alive. Or, you know, alive-ish.”