Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) Read online

  She shivered and then scratched her forehead, smiling uncomfortably.

  He pulled back, confused. “Why do you smile?”

  “It’s not possible for your brain to tickle, is it?”

  “Tickle.”

  She nodded. “Tickle.” With one word, she emasculated him, proved he was weaker than he ever imagined possible.

  “That cannot be.”

  “I would’ve thought so too, but it’s the only way I can describe it.” She looked behind her, then at him before wiping her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Come to me,” he commanded with more force than he’d used in centuries.

  “You don’t hear the word ‘no’ very often, do you? It means that I’m not going to do what you ask me to.” It was almost as if she didn’t know who he was. More likely, she knew how limited her remaining days were, regardless of how she behaved. Perhaps he should remind her how many ways there were to die and how painful each could be.

  “I am not asking.”

  “Did you use your power?”

  He said nothing, his pride suddenly something easily swept away. Just as whoever had put him in this position would be, as soon as he was strong enough to do it.

  “You did!” she shouted, pacing across the room. “You tried to use your power on me when all I’m doing is trying to help you.” She stopped and looked at him. “Why didn’t it work?”

  “It did work.”

  “When?”

  “You came to me when I commanded you to.”

  “No, I came to you because I decided to.”

  “Why would you do anything I wish you to of your own volition?”

  “Because evidently I have a death wish and you have some kickass pheromones or something. If you really did it, do it again.”

  “I do not care to.”…admit that he may have already burned through his remaining power. “I wish to feed.”

  “Then compel me to feed you.”

  “No.” But he tried. He felt himself move into her mind as with any being, but he could only see a whisper of her thoughts. The rest were blurred to him. Even against a newly turned vampire, it was unheard of for a human to do. Although every now and again, one was found to have greater-than-average abilities.

  She shook her head, putting a hand to her temple. “Are you doing it?”

  In frustration, he pushed harder, violently. Something slammed into him—not his body, his power. Something unseen, unknown, shoved him out of her mind. Impossible.

  He studied her. None of the lower races were capable of it, so he ignored them altogether. A mage, then? He’d never met one strong enough to do anything like that, and he didn’t sense the magic of a mage or the insanity it caused. Obviously, his power was diminished due to the injury to his body. Once he fed, the chains would mean nothing. She would mean nothing, regardless of what she was. More than how she did it, he wanted to know about the creature who would defy him so boldly, so dangerously.

  “Have you ever been compelled?”

  “No.” She grimaced. “I used that word you don’t know the meaning of again. I’m not a big fan of hanging out with vamps.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Listen, I want you to go away a lot more than you want to go away. So all we’re waiting on is for me to figure out how to do it.” She was so very mortal.

  “Why do you fidget so much?”

  She stopped shifting from leg to leg and gripped her thighs to still her hands. “I’m not. And, even if I was, it would be totally natural.”

  “Extraneous movement is just that—extraneous. Why would one spend a portion of what is a very short time on the planet doing something extraneous?”

  “Weren’t you human at some point?”

  “Of course. Thankfully it did not last.”

  “Right, I’m sure it felt great to get over that pesky mortality thing. And the morality thing too, I guess.”

  “It makes you happy to believe I lack a sense of morality.” Even if he cared what a seer thought of him, he knew nothing he said would change her mind.

  “I haven’t been happy for about…” She checked her watch. “Six years.”

  “Not even a blink of time to me.”

  She sat down and studied him for a moment. “It was just horrible, wasn’t it? Being human?”

  “Constantly living in fear of pain, starvation, and death? Yes, those things are horrible.” Rhyse didn’t know why he spoke to her—he had no interest in lower beings. Perhaps it was because it had been centuries since someone had dared speak to him as if he were a peer. Not that this seer was even close to being mistaken for his peer. She was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Or both.

  “So feeling nothing is better?”

  “I still feel hunger, and you have seen me at my weakest. However, being without fear is priceless.”

  “There’s always a price. You just aren’t the one to pay it.”

  “You are referring to those we feed from.” He continued after she nodded. “It has been centuries since I drank from a human who did not desire it.”

  “Because you compel them and then alter their memory so they don’t remember how awful it was.”

  “It is not awful, and they offer themselves willingly, knowing exactly what will happen. We alter their memories for no other reason than to protect the Highworld. You claim to be human, yet you know very little about their race. How are we depicted in their world? Not solely as demons as we once were. Now vampires are powerful, erotic, often bonded to one human by an emotion that, in reality, we cannot feel. It is not our fault they prefer fantasy over reality.”

  “And the reality is you’re just death in a pretty package.”

  “We do not have to kill to feed. It happens on occasion, but the system prevents countless human deaths.”

  “Tell that to the free-range kills.”

  “The—?” Ah-ha. The sanctioned kills. “One per human generation versus one every few days. Do you really desire to return to that?”

  “What I’d really like is for you to keep your fangs in your pants and stop killing any of us.”

  “Impossible. Neither prohibition nor abstinence work.” The system was not perfect but, in three hundred years, no one had come up with anything better, and no one had the strength and will to break the Treaty.

  She scoffed. “Well, thank the powers everybody’s free to slaughter their own kind.”

  “The system you detest stopped the constant wars between the races,” he said, not knowing why he desired to convince her of something she could never comprehend. “Wars that cost many, many lives—both supernatural and human. As long as the Treaty itself is not defied, the races can do as they like among their own. Each time we war against each other, beings who are uninvolved die, and the Highworld’s secrecy is threatened.”

  “There has to be a way that doesn’t include using seers as servants or snacks.”

  He couldn’t expect a seer to understand something as complicated as Highworld politics; therefore, he would not discuss it, or anything else, with the seer. “When you think of something better, please let me know.”

  “I will.” She spoke without emotion, staring not at him but through him. Ignoring a being who was never, ever ignored. And it bothered him to no end.

  Rhyse’s skill with anticipating the actions of others was one reason he was the Prime, but this one refused to act predictably, as if she deliberately went against her own best interests. It created a sense of curiosity he had never believed he’d feel again, and was as unexpected as his physical weakness.

  He was at her mercy. Vulnerable. Yet instead of using his weakness to gain power for herself as any rational being would, she seemed to truly want to heal him. As if she valued his life at the expense of her own. Very soon, he would kill her with a lift of his hand, a touch, yet she didn’t seem to care enough to kill him now, as she should. Being unable to determine her motives made him far more uncomfortable th
an the silver chains or the lumpy mattress. He greatly disliked being uncomfortable.

  “Do you often strap males to your bed, or am I the first?”

  “Be quiet.” When he hissed at the command, she held up her hands. “Please.” Better, but far from good enough. Her tone held too much sarcasm. “I need to think.”

  He didn’t need to read her mind to know what she was thinking—her body gave her away. The way she leaned towards him one moment then rocked back as soon as she realized she’d moved closer. Her inner struggle apparent on her face, the darting of her gaze from him to the stake on the nightstand to the drapery on the windows. But always back to him.

  She wanted him to die, but wouldn’t do it herself. She wanted him but wouldn’t let herself. The latter was common—particularly in humans. The draw of pleasure, the yearning for death. Long ago, Rhyse found he had no desire to give them what they longed for—a taste of damnation and immortality. There were other females to fulfill his physical needs who were not as bothersome.

  This one had seen him weak, kept him captive, and spoke to him as if he wasn’t who he was. It was not amusing, and he had no desire to be here any longer than absolutely necessary. Yet she was different, intriguing. Her scent for one. Perhaps he would wait before putting her down, just until he knew what she was.

  She was simply as all lower beings were, and although Rhyse had never considered or cared about what that meant, he did now. She was nothing of importance, nothing more than a servant, who despite her tongue had to understand that every supernatural race would stop at nothing to keep her from stepping out of her place.

  “When you find out who tried to kill you,” she said, her eyes shining, “kill him once for me, too. If it wasn’t for him, I’d still have a life. A shitty one, but at least it was a life.”

  Rhyse didn’t respond, focusing instead on the beginnings of a plan. He could use her to investigate the attempted coup and reveal the enemy he sought. Any other being would be noticed, suspected, but not a seer. He almost laughed at the perversity—she was now the most trustworthy and important ally he had.

  The seer stood, sighed, and walked away. Under her awful clothing was something truly beautiful. It would be a shame when her life force left that body. First he would recover and, if she didn’t free him, he would free himself. Then she would aid him in discovering which of his people had done this to him. Then she and his enemy would die.

  “I’m gonna go freak out in the living room for a little while,” she said from the doorway. “Wanna watch a movie until you do the coma thing?” She seemed to miss the absurdity of the question, making him wonder about her sanity. If he had any intention of exchanging blood with her, he could heal her mind of that.

  But of course, he would not exchange blood with her—he would take blood from her.

  “Is that a ‘yes’?” She went to the bureau and set a laptop computer on top of it, aiming the monitor so he could see it. “I only have Netflix, but they have a lot of good stuff. What do you normally watch?”

  “Was that a serious question?” he asked after a moment. “You are asking the vampire you strapped to your bed what kind of films he enjoys?”

  “I need to figure out how the hell I’m going to get out of this without dying and you—well, both of us are stuck here until I do.” She turned back to the computer and clicked a few times. How about Angel?” She laughed nervously. “This is so messed up.”

  When she turned towards him, he saw tragedy in her eyes, an open soul unlike any he’d seen outside of the angels.

  “Are you nephilium?” he asked quietly, without thinking. She would be the first half-angel since the Treaty went into effect, but it was possible.

  “It’s just a show. He’s not an actual angel, he’s a vamp. And he’s in love with—Yeah, total fiction. It would probably horrify you. Or make you want to stake yourself.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re watching it.” She took a breath. “Look, I don’t want you to die, but I don’t want me to die, either. So, if there’s a way…Never mind. I’m gonna go now.”

  Perhaps he wouldn’t kill her after all. Even though he was the Prime, he would follow the law until it proved impossible. Her mind would be wiped of this entire episode once she had served her purpose. But before that, he would discover what she was, and he would take her to bed.

  Humans were warm, soft, and shared their emotions openly. Mortal emotions. It had been so long since he’d spent any time with one, he’d forgotten how amusing they could be.

  Seven

  When Addison went back into her room, the vamp lay there, staring at her. Why wasn’t he asleep yet?

  “Reach into my pocket,” he said.

  Eww. “I never would’ve thought I’d be shocked to hear a vamp say something so deviant-sounding.”

  “There is cash in the pocket of my jacket. Take the monies and find me something potable. Something human.”

  “Sure, I’ll just go to a 7/11 and buy a six-pack.” She’d pulled the thick stack of bills out before she realized what buying him blood would entail. “I can’t. I’d have to find a bagboy and he’d want to know why a seer needs blood. Then, even if I could come up with an excuse, he’d have to go to a grocer, which would make it traceable.”

  “Bring a human to me—one who is not as stubborn as you are. I am stronger now and ready to use my power.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Okay, she was done thinking. And the answer was: “No way.” How could she pick someone to bring back here, knowing what he was going to do? A human sacrifice. He hadn’t fed in a while and his injury probably made his needs greater. As in, ten pints greater.

  She stopped thumping the wad of cash against her palm when she realized there was blood on the bottom of it. Eww-eww-eww. “A true example of blood money. Except in this case, it may actually have helped you stay alive…ish.” She set the stack of bills on her nightstand and wiped her hands on the sheet. Why not? It was already ruined. “Do you always carry that much money around?”

  “The lifestyle of the Prime is costly to maintain.”

  “No doubt. What do you do for him? Bodyguard? Head of the treasury? Hair stylist?”

  “I do nothing for him.” He sounded incredibly offended. “Because I am him.”

  Her head popped up. “Sorry, what?”

  He looked incredibly offended, too. “Impossible. How did you not know who I am? Have you never seen my face?” He shook his head. “I do not believe it.”

  “I spend most of my time with dead things.” Her brow furrowed. “That sounds a lot weirder than it is.” She peered down at him, trying to remember if she’d seen him before.

  He bared his teeth after she got close and before she stumbled multiple steps backwards.

  Oh, shit. The heated eyes. The fangs. The overall gorgeousness. Yeah, she’d seen him. In a painting on the wall at HQ. Just once, because there was no point to look more than that. Fact one: Vampires were unearthly beautiful. Fact two: They were killers. And the second made the first far less impressive.

  But there was no way. She had not brought the leader of the entire North American zone into her house. Into her life. No fucking way. “Were you really the Prime?”

  “I really am the Prime. Whoever tried to kill me failed.”

  “Well…aren’t you lucky?”

  “My kind does not give much credence to luck. Perhaps it is you—whatever you are—who is lucky.”

  The vampire king, the Prime of the North American zone, was lying in her bed tied up with necklaces.

  “Yeeeaaahh. I can’t see a single thing about this that makes me feel lucky.” The situation had just become four times worse. A couple silver chains weren’t going to keep her safe. There must have been swarms of beings looking for him, so any time she could’ve used to think and stay alive was gone.

  “You are confusing to me.” He paused. “And I dislike being confused very much. Tell me what you want.”

  “For you to get up and leave without stoppin
g for a snack until you’re out the door.”

  “And then?”

  “And then you pretend this never happened and don’t tell anyone else.” As if she was going to get that. Her only chance was to be out of here and searching for somewhere far, far, far away to hide before he recovered or someone came to get him.

  The Council wouldn’t bother sending a tracker for a random vamp, but for the Prime? Shit. She didn’t know how long it would take them to track her down and kill her, but whatever it was wasn’t enough.

  The only possible way she could get out of this with a heartbeat was to talk him out of mentioning her to anyone…ever. How hard could that be?

  “I could’ve left you in the garbage where I found you. But I didn’t. You owe me.”

  “I owe you nothing. You are required to serve me.”

  “I didn’t know you were the Prime until a minute ago, but I still helped you.” She cleared her throat to stop sounding so incredibly whiny. “That should count for something.”

  “You say all you desire is for me to leave, but that could not possibly be true. Of course, I have never been held hostage before; therefore, I defer to your knowledge on the subject. Whatever you ask, I will consider it as long as it is not offensive. And I am easily offended.”

  “I’m not holding you hostage.”

  “Then take off the chains and feed me.”

  “I’m not suicidal, either.”

  “If I tell you I will not bite?”

  “I’d say you were a liar.”

  The intensity of his eyes sharpened so abruptly she could almost feel its cut. “You call me a liar. Yet you expect me to believe you desire nothing but for me to go, while refusing to provide the means to make that possible.”

  What was she going to do? “I’m going out.” Running away. “Feel free to leave whenever. Or die whenever.”

  Unfortunately it was morning, so all he would do is sleep or go into a coma or whatever they did. They were dead, so maybe the daytime hibernation was a way to refuel—actually be dead for eight hours. And if she was really, really, really lucky, he’d stay that way.