Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1)

by Lauren Stewart

  “My ‘stench,’ as you so kindly call it, only clings to a woman in certain instances. Otherwise, beings will sense a claiming has occurred but not by which vampire.”

  “What other circumstances?”

  “If the woman…enjoys it. Which I am sure someone like you would not do.”

  “You’re damned straight someone like me wouldn’t.”

  “Then you agree.” He came towards her.

  “Ye—wait,” she said, throwing her hands out. “No, I’m not agreeing to anything.” And she’d be able to think a lot more clearly if he’d back off.

  “Then perhaps you should look into getting that tattoo.”

  “Aren’t there any other claiming rituals? Ones that don’t involve blood or sex?”

  He shook his head. “We creatures and our bodily fluid exchanges.”

  “Can’t you, like, sweat on me or something? Do you sweat?”

  He laughed. “Only during the claiming. In which case, I assume we’d both be sweating.”

  Damn it. Those images were going to be stuck in her head for a very long time. Maybe they’d be a welcome distraction when a roomful of vamps all took a bite out of her. Until they dusted and every super knew about her lame superpower.

  Shit. She needed to be claimed. “What if we just make out a little? And you, like, drool on me a bit?”

  “I suspect not, but would you like to try?”

  “No,” she said, her head giving the opposite answer.

  The next moment, he was in front of her—very, very close in front of her. “We will start with a kiss. See how it goes, as they say. Then we will be able to judge more accurately. Are you ready?”

  “Um…”

  “Relax, Addison. It is just a kiss.” His breath warmed her cheek, his lips sliding from her ear to her mouth, barely touching. “But whatever you do, try not to enjoy it,” he whispered a moment before his mouth met hers.

  There is no try, there is just do. There is also just fail, which Addison was doing incredibly well. His lips were soft, sweet tasting. He slipped his arms around her to bring her closer. His touch was light, not brutal like she imagined a vampire’s would be, not hard like the rest of his body. The contradiction was disorienting in the best possible way.

  He coaxed her mouth open to deepen the kiss, slowly exploring her. It didn’t make sense. He was dangerous, a killer. How could he possibly be so gentle? Maybe living indefinitely gave a being more patience with everything. Everything? She wondered if—

  Don’t wonder about that because it’s never going to happen!

  After a little moan snuck out of her mouth, gentle turned into overwhelming and moved all the way to regret for all the time they’d spent fighting instead of doing this. If he wasn’t holding her so tightly, she’d fall over…or rip off his clothes. He was in complete control of the kiss, her body, her mind.

  When he said her name and ground himself against her, every nerve in her body shot a message to her brain. Most of them screamed, ‘Whatever the hell you do, please make sure it isn’t anything that might make this stop!’ And a few yelled, ‘If you don’t make this stop right now, there’s a high probability you will never feel anything good ever again because all of your pleasure centers are about to explode!’

  Okay, she’d changed her mind—this wasn’t that terrible after all. And just to be safe, they should probably do the whole ritual-enjoyment thing. Just to be safe.

  He held her shoulders to stop her from moving with him as he pulled away. “Astonishingly, you were correct.”

  “Huh?” She couldn’t stop staring at his lips. Great lips. Great other stuff too.

  “You were correct. It is faint, and it would be a far better and more enjoyable experience to complete the ritual, but I do sense a claiming has occurred. Most will probably simply assume it was by a young vampire.”

  “Huh?” In fact, all his stuff was pretty great. Including his voice—the one she should probably be listening to.

  “Had we continued, I believe you would have been unable to hold back…your enjoyment of me, and then all would know it was me who claimed you.”

  She blinked to wake herself up. “What?”

  “A claiming, Addison. I have claimed you.”

  She jolted out of…whatever he’d done to her, as if he’d just doused her with cold water. “Like hell I’ve been claimed, especially by you. You can’t claim me, Rhyse. I am unclaimable, thank you very much.”

  He listened to her rant with a look bordering on wonder but with more irritation in it. “I admitted you were correct and I was not. Perhaps you should focus on that coup d’état.”

  After a few quick breaths and some space between them, she said, “Yeah, I think I will.” Oh shit, she’d been claimed.

  Thirty-one

  The hall wasn’t what Addison expected. Probably because it wasn’t a hall. The gigantic fortress with its never-ending lawns and thick stone fence was called “Raven Hall.” Only the sickeningly wealthy named their houses. She should’ve known a super event wouldn’t be held at a community center or a lodge. When they did shit like this, they did it well.

  “Whose place is this?” she asked, her eyes running over the side of the mansion, knowing it would be at least twice the size from the front.

  “It is mine.”

  She looked at him. “They’re having a party at your place and you not being there yet doesn’t seem weird to anyone?” Not that she imagined him peeling shrimp all day or sticking tray after tray of canapés into the oven, but—“Never mind. Of course it’s yours.”

  Why was she here? She couldn’t even use the excuse that he’d compelled her. He’d be hanging out under a tree around the corner while she went inside a house of horrors. But she’d be a good girl, wave goodbye and tell him she’d be right back, and then go into the building and keep walking. Find the easiest way out the back and run as fast as nearly humanly possible. She could find a way out of the estate before Rhyse started wondering why she wasn’t coming back out.

  Screw the oracle—that old bat didn’t know shit. They’d be stronger together. Please. The only thing that would happen if she stuck around was that she would die now instead of tomorrow, and every extra day counts. So thanks, but no thanks.

  She had to hand it to Rhyse though—he taught her how to shield so well even he didn’t know what she was planning. The other supers wouldn’t bother. Seers were far too unimportant to read unless they were acting suspiciously. So, all she had to do was keep her shield up and act submissive.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I truly hate you for making me do this,” she grumbled.

  “I was under the impression you hated me prior to this.”

  “We’re both right.” She took a deep breath, stopping when her breasts seemed very close to popping out of the corset. “I need another second.”

  “They will all be gone by the time you have gathered enough courage. You do not need courage, Addison. The only things you need are your shield, your ID, and your ears.”

  “Easy for you to say. You like these beings.”

  “I do not like any being. Stop stalling and go. I will be right here waiting for you. Two minutes.” He shoved her forward. “After you have told me what I need to know, I will take you to your horrible home and you will be free of me.”

  “There’s no place like home.” Focus on that. And your shield. And making sure you don’t trip on your dress. And not bumping into any being or plants or walls. And getting out as fast as you can.

  And…damn, this wasn’t going to be easy.

  A bunch of vamps waiting outside watched her like she was a food truck as she walked up the steps, clutching her badge in her hand, ready to flash it. But every time she got within a foot or so of anyone, they inhaled deeply, tilted their heads as if trying to recognize the scent, and then turned back to their seer companions. A few male weres growled from deep in their chests, but who knew what that meant? A warning not to get too close, a
compliment on her dress, or an invitation to a late-night human sacrifice as the guest of honor?

  Inside the hall, a number of angels who didn’t have companions and a few demon couples watched her rush by them. Since by law demons weren’t allowed to touch humans, they stayed together, even though ‘couples’ was totally the wrong word to use—normally, beings had to like each other to be a couple. There were only a handful of mages—at least that Addison saw—probably because they didn’t qualify as great party guests. She didn’t see any witches at all, but since Rhyse said every land-dwelling race was required to send a body of representatives, Addison figured the witches were coven-ing somewhere nearby. All the seers focused on their feet or the super they were with, but never anywhere else.

  At least Rhyse’s partial claiming seemed to be working. The more supers she passed, the more her confidence grew. Not enough to let go of her badge, but enough to stop sweating so much she was afraid she’d lose her grip on it.

  She walked down a hallway, hoping to run into an exit before running into trouble. When the hall dead-ended, she tried not to think of that as a bad omen and went back into the foyer where most of the guests were. There had to be an exit across the way.

  As soon as she reached the middle of the room, a bell rang and everyone started moving. She tried to squeeze her way out of the enormous crowd, but going any other way than downstream was impossible. Like heading into a funnel, the group tightened as they neared two enormous open doors. Getting battered from all sides, Addison focused on keeping her shield up and avoiding anyone she might piss off. Most supers shopped in the big-and-tall department, so she couldn’t see what was beyond the doors at all.

  As soon as they passed through the doors, the guests spread in all directions, leaving Addison to head any way other than back out. Time to switch to plan B—do what she was supposed to do until she could figure out a way to get out of it.

  Easy. Like a walk in the park…that turned out to be a cemetery.

  Thirty-two

  The house itself was larger than one of those embarrassingly small 10,000-square-foot hovels, of course, but there was definitely some magic involved here in the ballroom—the ceiling had to be at least five stories high and the room felt like it was about a quarter-mile from side to side.

  Addison ducked her head down when a werewolf looked at her through narrowed eyes. Weres had that whole dominance-submissive thing and obviously a seer was never the former. But how could Addison see who had taken over if she couldn’t look at anyone? She pretended to admire the art on the walls—walls didn’t care if you were submissive or not—and used her peripheral vision to check the supers out.

  She jumped when someone touched her shoulder.

  “I did not mean to startle you,” a deep, melodic voice said. “I only wish to know who you belong to.”

  Belong to. She bit back her comment because it would only get her killed and kept her eyes on the being’s chest, which just happened to be at eye level. White tux, white shirt, white tie, wings tucked away. An angel.

  “Lamere,” she said quietly, hoping he didn’t know the guy.

  “Lamere?” he asked sadly. “Really? Well, that’s…a surprise.”

  She didn’t know how to react, because all she knew about Lamere was that he didn’t date a lot.

  “And he leaves you alone?”

  “He’s not here yet.” And I hope not ever.

  “Then until he arrives, I would keep you company. It’s not wise to leave a…seer alone on nights like this.”

  “I’ve been claimed.” Kind of.

  “Is that what it is?”

  “What what is?” Shit. She tightened her shield, focusing on how incredibly white his suit was. Dirt was probably forbidden to touch an angel.

  “Never mind,” he said lightly. “Perhaps I could just keep you company for a time. You may look upon me if you wish.”

  She did. He was huge—broad chested, tall, as flawless as all of them were. A long time ago she’d wondered why the high races—aside from most demon subspecies and some of the weres—seemed like they hit the jackpot in the genetics department. Vamps chose who they turned and a pretty face on an angel probably helped them do their jobs. The demons who were human looking, meaning they had all their pieces where humans did and their coloring just made them look exotic, were insanely attractive. Maybe something about temptation, but she’d stopped caring before she figured it out.

  This one had eyes almost as beautiful as Rhyse’s and light brown hair that looked so thick and soft, she’d confess all her sins to just touch it. His eyes never left hers and, for some reason, she felt like he knew what she was. She drew back a step.

  “You have nothing to fear from me. My name is”—his lips stilled—“Micah.”

  Okay, that was very weird. “I thought angels didn’t say their names out loud or let anyone know what they are.” It was something about the way they were summoned.

  “The first is always true—our names must never be spoken aloud except by another angel.” Micah smiled. “The second is commonly true but there are exceptions. Tonight is a strange night and you are—”

  “Strange?”

  “Unusual. I believe you can be trusted to keep a secret. I hope it wasn’t a mistake.” He paused. “You may call me ‘M’ when you’re speaking, but must not ever tell anyone else what it is.”

  She leaned towards him and whispered, “I’m Addison. But don’t tell anyone.”

  His teeth were even whiter than his suit. “If you ever need anything”—he mouthed ‘Addison’—“please contact me.”

  “How?”

  “Say my whole name inside your mind.”

  “And click my heels together three times?”

  He smiled again. “You can if you’d like, but the only requirement is to say my whole name and ask for my assistance with your whole heart.”

  “Thanks.” It couldn’t hurt to have access to an angel.

  He bowed and stepped back.

  “Wait, M—” She shut her mouth before she blew it. “Can you tell me what’s going to happen tonight?”

  “Well…” He came closer and stood next to her so they both faced the center of the room. Beings of every kind and shape milled around. Some eating, others not. Some drinking, others not. There were sure a lot of them.

  “We all pretend that we are happy to be here,” Micah said, “and then at midnight, the leader of each race will stand there”—he motioned to the center of the dance floor—“and pledge their continued fidelity to the Treaty.”

  “Sounds like one hell of a party.”

  “I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Once they are done, each race will present their greatest warrior.”

  “For a beauty contest kind of thing?”

  “No. For a fight to the death.”

  “They celebrate peace with a fight to the death?”

  He nodded. “Those who signed the original treaty were all leaders of their races. Now, for political reasons, the strongest of their race apart from the leader is chosen. Sacrificing their greatest warrior is in honor of those who gave their lives for what we have now.”

  That the leaders weren’t offering themselves up for the ‘honor’ was absolutely the least shocking thing she’d ever heard. “What happens after they kill each other?”

  “The dead are taken away, and the victor is awarded a trophy.”

  “They do it for a lousy trophy?”

  “It is a great honor to be chosen, to be acknowledged as the strongest of your race. But it is not just a lousy trophy. It is magical. One wish, whatever the champion desires, whenever he or she chooses to use it.”

  “Well, that’s something, I guess.”

  “It is something. A great something. To be granted your heart’s desire, immortality, or for an immortal to reclaim his or her life if he is killed. Those are not trivial things.”

  “What would you wish for?”

  He sighed. “I cannot say.”

&
nbsp; “Me, neither.” Because he was an angel and would be appalled by the amount of curse words her wish would include. “Do all the races participate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even seers?”

  “Yes.”

  A seer against any other race wouldn’t stand a chance. Not even a slim one. Whoever the unlucky bastard they’d nominated was dead meat. Then she realized that there was no leader of the seer community. They were all slaves.

  Before she could ask, Micah stepped in front of her and bowed. “It is almost time. I’m sure Lamere would not miss the fight, so I should leave you now.”

  “Thanks, M. It was nice to meet you.”

  “And you, Addison. I wish you peace.” If only an angel had the power to make that happen.

  As soon as he walked away, she looked for a place to hide. She didn’t want to watch the fight and would be screwed if Lamere showed up, but she needed to see who stood up as the king of the vamps.

  When the clock struck midnight, the hall went silent. Then, without a glance or request from any of the supers, their seer companions slowly moved backwards until they stood with their backs to the walls on all sides of the great room. Addison couldn’t believe how many of them there were—more than any other race.

  A traitorous and dangerous thought appeared in her mind. We don’t even fight anymore. If we all worked together… She shook it off. Not my problem. Hell, she wasn’t even a seer.

  It took a long time to get a crowd that large to settle, but once they had, they also pulled back from the center of the dance floor, exposing a huge pentagram drawn on the floor with lines of salt. A little man walked each line with his head down, probably verifying whatever magic they held.

  After being announced by name and status, the leader of each race stepped across the line. The order seemed arbitrary—weakest to strongest would have started with the seers but that didn’t happen. Mages, werewolves, witches, oh my. They twitched as they stepped into the pentagram, as if the design’s magic continued upwards from the line. Then some guy she’d never seen before, looking smug and unafraid, went into the pentagram to stand for the seers.