Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (18 page)

“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.”

~ ~ ~

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.”

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.

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.

“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.