Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) Read online

  “Maybe.” Yes, because it might help her kill someone who was already dead. And no, for the same reason.

  “Until the Treaty went into effect, I never thought to leave them alive. None of us did. It was a terrible time for all of us. The human victims and the supernaturals who preyed on them.”

  “I have a pretty hard time feeling sorry for predators.”

  “As do I,” he said quietly.

  What did that mean? He didn’t explain, she didn’t ask, and the silence was awkward.

  “I don’t need to kill you. You’re getting better.”

  “Far too slowly. If I had nourishment, we could both move on from this unfortunate situation sooner.”

  She set the glass of water on the nightstand just in time for a huge yawn-and-stretch to happen.

  “You are fatigued.”

  “That’s what happens when you can’t use your bed because a vamp’s in it.”

  “Lie down.” His eyes were heated, staring at the slash of skin between her jeans and her t-shirt.

  “Yeah, right,” she said, pulling her shirt down. “Let me guess, I can lie down right on top of you and fall asleep with my neck near your mouth.”

  “It would be satisfactory were you simply to lie down on top of me, provided you remove your clothing. And mine.” If it had been anyone else she could’ve thought of a good comeback, something to put him in his place. But unfortunately, her mind went haywire when he said stuff like that and the only thing she could think of saying was, ‘Gladly.’ Stupid vampire pheromones.

  “It only excites me to see you blush, Addison. The blood coming to your face and chest, your increased heat and speed of your breath.”

  Damn it. She couldn’t take much more—except the breathing part. She wanted more of that.

  “You are a terrible host. With what would you have me amuse myself? You do not feed me, you tell me to leave, and you have not once joined me in bed.”

  She bit back what she really wanted to say and went into the living room. As much as she wanted a nap, it didn’t seem smart with a hungry vampire in the next room. So she huddled on the couch with a wooden stake, a cross, and some holy water. And then, like an idiot, she fell asleep.

  Ten

  It was already late afternoon when Addison jolted awake, confused and groggy. She wasn’t dead. Great. She wasn’t a vampire. Also great.

  “Addison!”

  She still had that pesky houseguest issue. Not at all great.

  “Addison,” he called again. “I…need your help.” It must have been hard for him to say that—a language barrier comprised only of words like ‘please,’ ‘thank you,’ and requests for help.

  “With what?” she asked from the doorway.

  “My wound should have healed, regardless of my thirst. I believe something is still inside slowing the process down, a splinter perhaps. If you want me to go, you need to take it out.” He opened and closed his hands, which were thankfully still bound by the silver chains. “You could, of course, release me so I may attend to it myself.”

  ‘Shocked stupid’ was what she’d probably call how she felt. He wanted her to dig wood out of his chest? “I’m not... I can’t...”

  “You must. Or call a healer and I will wipe their mind. But it needs to be soon.”

  “Can’t you just alter their memories? Not wipe their mind, just alter their memories.”

  “If she can do what needs to be done in a short enough time yes, but I do not think that is possible. Even then, wiping is cleaner.”

  “Then no,” she said quickly.

  “Explain your fear.”

  “You mean besides having a vamp in my bed?”

  He sighed. “I do not understand humans. Make a decision. And know the longer I am uncomfortable, the more likely it is I will blame you.”

  Vampire threats seemed meaner than human threats. Maybe because he could back it up painfully, or that he spoke so calmly about her death, or that he hadn’t actually mentioned death, leaving it vague enough for her to assume whatever he was planning would be as painful as he could make it.

  But this could also be the perfect bargaining chip—her life for saving his…again. And this time, he’d see it and not be able to pretend it hadn’t happened. Just a quick peek under his jacket to judge how awful it would be. She approached him, every step its own separate trial. Her gaze darted between the wide hole in his chest to his eyes, not trusting anything. “At least the bleeding stopped.”

  “That is why there can be no further delay. If my flesh heals around a splinter of wood, it will be much harder to remove, perhaps even impossible.”

  Flesh. Gross word. Always. Her hands trembled as she grabbed his shirt on either edge of the hole and ripped. Oh, shit. Amazing chest. Except for the horrifying hole in it.

  “Be right back.” In the bathroom mirror, she saw the expression of terror on her face. Then she grabbed a towel and splashed water on both. “You can do this. It’s not like you’re gonna kill him. Think of it like you’re deboning a chicken.” She had no idea how to debone a chicken…nor did she ever want to.

  She pulled a chair over to the side of the bed and wiped at the blood on his chest so she could see better.

  He flinched.

  “Sorry.”

  His brows came together in wonder.

  She dabbed again, not looking at his face. “Have you ever heard the story of the lion and the mouse?”

  “Stories are for children. I have not been a child for a very, very long time.”

  “Yeah well, this one’s good for all ages. So there’s this lion who’s the terror of the Serengeti or whatever, and everyone’s terrified of him.” Once she’d wiped off the area, she leaned closer to look inside the hole. Eww. “And he catches a mouse. Now, a cute little mouse obviously isn’t enough for the lion to eat, so maybe food is scarce or maybe he’s just mean.” She put her finger on his skin a few inches away from the wound and pulled it open.

  “Anyway, the smart little mouse talks him out of eating her—we’ll say it’s a female mouse ’cause it’s easier.” She grimaced when she saw the wood. But it wasn’t just a splinter—it was one huge splinter and a bunch of smaller ones, some of which glimmered as if they were metallic. She grabbed the chunky one and wiggled to dislodge it. “So a few days later, the lion is crying in pain.”

  He shuddered as she eased the splinter out. “Like that?”

  “Way worse. Hang on.” She smiled, holding it up for him to see. “But don’t get too excited, because there are a few more.”

  “Then you will have time to finish your tale.” He probably wasn’t even listening to the story, but was distracted by the words. Hopefully, he’d get the point by osmosis.

  “Turned out, the lion had a splinter in his toe.” She removed the shards one by one as she spoke, putting them on the nightstand. Some were definitely silver. The wooden stake had been pimped out to be as painful as possible in the millisecond between puncturing the vamp’s heart and dusting. Somebody must really not like him. The silver was also probably the thing that slowed his healing.

  She continued her story. “So, this cute little mouse is the only one who will help the ferocious lion, because he’s been a total jackass to everyone else. After the mouse takes the splinter out, the lion is absolutely thrilled that he didn’t eat her. So they lived happily ever after… and never saw each other again.” She got as close as she could, checking to see if she’d missed any. Nope. “All done.” She sat back and felt her adrenaline turn down a few notches.

  “Do you think I am an imbecile?”

  “What?” she asked, her adrenaline going right back up. “No, I mean it. At least, I can’t see any more in there.”

  “Not about that. You did well. I can feel the difference already. I meant about your fable.”

  “So you’ve heard it before?”

  “Never. But I know a similar one. About a scorpion. Have you heard it?”

  She wished she could remove the sarc
asm in his voice as easily as she’d taken the wood from his chest.

  “I can tell by your expression that you have.”

  The scorpion and the frog. Sure, she knew it. Scorpion needed a ride across the river and promised the frog he wouldn’t sting if he took him over. Scorpion stung frog and then they both died tragically because the scorpion couldn’t stop what was in his nature.

  Bastard. “Why’d you have to do that?” she whined. “I just helped you and you thank me with another threat. Do you even know how to speak without them?”

  “There are two scorpion tales, Addison. Shall I tell you the one to which I was referring?”

  “If I don’t like it, can I shove one of these back in?” she asked, glancing at the splinters.

  “I would like to sit up.”

  “You’re on your own there, scorpion.”

  “And I repeat: you are a terrible host. It is important you understand what I am. My story makes a more direct point than your sad attempt at allegory.”

  “I like allegory.”

  “Do you like honesty as much? I am a vampire. I became the Prime for a reason. I am nothing like your lion because if a lion is badly injured by its enemy, it will run away. I do not run away, nor do I let my enemies do so.”

  “I wasn’t the one who staked you.”

  “Of course you were not. You are too weak.”

  “‘Thanks,’ said the person who just saved your life. Twice.”

  “You are not the enemy I seek. When I find them, I will successfully do to them what they tried and failed to do to me.”

  “Or they could try again and be successful the second time.”

  He almost laughed—the sound was there but not the smile. “If you put a scorpion in the ring with a dog, which walks out? Especially if that scorpion is immortal? It simply waits until the dog gets close enough, maybe even until its body is in its jaw. And then the scorpion stings. Over and over until the dog is paralyzed. And again until the dog dies. Then the victorious scorpion frees itself—regardless of how much of its body must be left between the animal’s teeth. Because it knows it can regenerate whatever it has lost. That is how I war. That is how I kill. And that is how I conquer.”

  “So…what you’re saying is you don’t like dogs?” It just came out—she didn’t know why. Probably the ongoing near-death experience she was having.

  “What?” He paused in frustration. “I imagine your kind would find that funny.”

  “Some might…maybe. But I get it. You’re badass, persistent, and deadly. And since I’m screwed no matter what, I’ll make as many jokes as I can because they distract me from how scared I am.” She stopped before she got all emotional and had to explain why water was coming out of her eyes.

  He studied her so intently, she almost felt violated. She gathered up her supplies and backed up, holding the pieces of wood out. “Do you want to keep these as souvenirs?”

  “Do you wish to be turned, Addison?”

  “Into a vampire? No way.”

  “You have no desire for immortality? Strength? Power?”

  “It’s not worth the downside.”

  “The way we feed.” He nodded. “I assure you, it is quite pleasurable for both parties.”

  “The parties I go to don’t include manipulation and altering someone’s memories.” Although she didn’t go to any of the other kind of parties, either.

  “I will not alter your memories—it is something you should remember.”

  “Can we stop talking about this, please?” She moved some clothes off a chair on the other side of the room, sat down, and put her face in her hands. Was she just going to wait until he healed? What if it took a week? Or more? She couldn’t take the stress and uncertainty.

  Kill him or feed him. Two horrible options. Choose one.

  “How much do you need?” she asked with a stiff jaw.

  “Enough to satisfy my hunger.” Somehow he knew exactly what she was talking about—probably because it was all he ever thought about. Well, that and killing dogs.

  “I hope your hunger is satisfied with a few drops then.” She wasn’t going to give him more than that.

  “Are you offering yourself to me, Addison?”

  “Just a little bit of me.” If he was fully sated, he’d be strong enough to break the chains and take all he wanted.

  “Have you ever donated before?”

  “Donated,” she muttered. “As if it’s voluntary.”

  “It is. The system requires it. We do not force anyone. They come to us willingly.”

  She scoffed. “Except for toys.”

  “What are toys?”

  Right, the deceptive vernacular of the high races. “Toys—the seers in the boxes. I mean, the houses.”

  “Ah, the diversions. They are provided for and protected from harm.”

  “Where do you get all your misinformation?” she parodied. “My friend is a toy, and he’s constantly harmed.”

  “And then healed by our blood.”

  “Big fucking deal. Your blood can’t fix all the damage.”

  “I am sure he finds pleasure in his relations.” He turned away, dismissing her. “Perhaps it is something he is uncomfortable discussing with you.”

  “He doesn’t have to. What you do to him is in his eyes. Why do you think they try to bust out?”

  “I was not aware they did. I do not visit the houses.”

  “Because the ‘diversions’ are brought to you.”

  He shook his head. “Humans are far too fragile to be desirable bedmates for any worthwhile length of time.”

  “Tell that to Logan’s clients. You think they even care? Every rogue seer comes from the boxes. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Give me your wrist,” he growled. “I am no longer interested in what a trash collector thinks.”

  As if he would ever be interested. “You need human blood. Humans need things, too. But why would supers care about that?”

  “You sound like a rogue.”

  “I’m not.” Rogue was synonymous with dead. And frankly the things she’d just expressed were not only traitorous, but totally foreign to her. Even thinking about politics was too dangerous.

  “Your body creates the only true need I have. Millions of your blood cells are made and die every second, but it will take some time for you to replenish what I drink. Therefore, although I owe you nothing, I will repay you with a gift only the Prime can offer. Life. What you give me now, I will return to you at a time when you need it. But only once, Addison, and you must ask nicely. Perhaps while on your knees.”

  “If I’m dying, I’ll probably be on my knees anyway.” And she wouldn’t be feeling amorous. Could she trust him? Did it matter? She’d never get a better offer, that was for sure.

  “Give me what I need so that I can make sure you receive it.”

  As soon as she pulled up her sleeve, his fangs elongated, like she was a pig on a spit and just seeing her vein made his mouth water. Speaking of spit…she needed to open a vein she wouldn’t bleed out from. A vampire’s saliva could heal a wound, but Addison wasn’t stupid enough to get that close. Nor did she ever intend to be licked by a vampire. Gross.

  “Remember: I’m helping you. There are plenty of other people who’ll give you more later. But I am helping you now.” She scored her forearm and cursed loudly. When her blood was released, he inhaled and sighed. “I hope you appreciate this, because that really hurts. Like the lion and the mouse. You owe me.”

  “You have not given me anything yet. Unless you consider the silver burns gifts.” Both of them stared at her arm, mesmerized by the growing trail of red, held together by surface tension. “Addison, give it to me.”

  Ugh. “Okay.” She ran her hand down her arm, milking the blood out, and held it over his mouth from about a foot above. The first few drops landed on his chest, then his cheek. His tongue slid out to reach them. Kind of hot in an awful sort of way. The next drop hit his bottom lip and he groaned, the
sound from deep in his throat, almost like the growl of a lion. If a lion’s growl was incredibly sexy and put wicked, inappropriate ideas in your head. But she could handle this. He would get what he needed, and she wouldn’t be out much.

  Her blood fell in steady drops directly into his mouth.

  And then everything changed.

  Eleven

  Hissing, Rhyse spat out her blood, his eyes violent, glowing with rage. She stumbled back, not knowing if this was a normal part of a feeding because she’d never actually witnessed one. But regardless, he was totally lying about the enjoyment factor. His body shook, convulsed, and one of the thickest silver chains broke in half.

  Oh, shit! This isn’t normal. “Don’t kill me! You promised!” A lot of good that would do.

  “You are poison.” His body arched off the bed and he threw his head from side to side. Then he went completely still and turned to her, showing off pupils that were neither human nor super. They were like a snake’s, and they were red.

  “Run,” he growled, fighting to get the words out. “Find sunlight. Now.”

  “What’s happening?” Besides me being a goddamn deer! Move, you useless pile of—

  “I may not be able to control what I do when I catch you. Now, Addison!”

  His shout knocked her into something productive—fleeing. She wasn’t even out of the room when she heard the second silver chain break.

  ‘When’ he catches me?

  He’d either been faking his weakness the whole time, or all he needed was a couple drops of blood to go from zero to sixty in five seconds. Those chains weren’t enough to hold him down. He was too strong. Too old. You idiot! He’d just needed time to repair himself, and she was his amusement while he did it.

  She threw the door open and took the stairs two at a time. But the sun had already dropped behind the buildings across the street.

  No, no, no! She ran, knowing it was pointless. He’d catch up if he didn’t get distracted by someone else first. Her pathetic human legs were no match for him. The farther she ran, the more humans he would encounter, so by running and being an idiot, she might get them killed, too. But she couldn’t get her survival instinct to listen.