Authors: Lauren Stewart
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Supernatural
Addison nodded. “I guess he doesn’t think you’re worth it—not a personal jab, Keira, I’m sure you’d totally be worth it.”
“Worth what?”
“Whatever their punishment is. No one knows the details. Again, it’s just an educated guess, but the theory is there’s a price to pay, a punishment from the Devil, that stops them. So it’s only worth it to the ones who have nothing to lose. The demon you met has the best life any of them can ever have. He’d be stupid to do anything that could ruin that.”
Keira’s stomach dropped. She’d never felt quite this dumb. He must have thought she was a joke without a punch line—wanting anything from a demon. “It seemed like he really wanted to.” Damn it, she hadn’t planned to say it aloud.
“He’s Level One, so maybe he’s at the end of his fifty years topside.” Addison sighed. “My best advice would be to avoid him altogether. We can have someone else take your place on the hunt. Although, if the demon is going after the vamp anyway, why not just let him finish it? As long as the vamp isn’t a danger anymore, it doesn’t matter who actually does the dusting.”
“But he… Taking Lamere down would have special meaning to me.”
Thankfully, Addison’s expression changed to one of concern, not pity. “Were you a toy?” A toy—whore for the supers, a position in sexual slavery that came with a lot of perks. Ones that couldn’t possibly be worth the price they paid for them. No, Keira had never been a toy. Because it had only been
one
super and there hadn’t been a single perk.
Keira shook her head, keeping her lips pressed together for as long as she could. If she didn’t tell them the truth, they’d put someone else on the hunt for Lamere, and she’d never have a chance to pay the bastard back.
Here goes.
“I…um…” Her voice was weak, and she couldn’t look at either woman. Being a toy was bad enough, but this…“I got drafted late. I became a seer at sixteen, but the angels didn’t find me until I was twenty.” She waited for them to understand without her actually having to say it. Because she really didn’t want to have to say it.
“So you…” They didn’t get it.
Big breath. “Lamere found me when I was seventeen.” For three years, Lamere had done whatever he wanted to her, all of which involved pain, force, and penetration.
“Oh shit,” one of them said. Keira couldn’t tell which because she couldn’t move. Looking anyone in the eye was completely out of the question. The carpet was nice though. Safe. Non-judgmental. No reflection.
“He had you for three years?” Parker asked quietly. “Unsanctioned?” Thankfully they were smart, so all Keira had to do was nod.
Being taken, possessed unsanctioned was the greatest fear any of them had. No rules, all brutality.
“Damn it!” Addison shot to her feet. “This is a perfect example of the system not working. One of the bastards finds a newbie before the angels do, and they know how to hide them.” Her voice softened. “It should never have happened, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am that it did.”
“It was a long time ago, but thanks.” She’d told exactly three more people than she ever had before. In as many days. Who knew it would be so fun? “It’s been a pretty emotional week.” She needed a drink. A big one. “Do you guys keep anything stronger than cookies around here?”
Addison started walking. “Come on. I need you to talk to someone. He’s a bit hard to get hold of, but I’ll figure it out on the way.”
“Wait, I—”
am having a hard time believing I told anyone, let alone a demon and my idol, so I’m going to need a second here to imagine who could possibly be next.
Her parents, maybe. Her fourth grade teacher. The only person who’d be worse would be the Prime of North America.
“Addison, wait! I’m supposed to be somewhere in a little while, so maybe…um…maybe another time or something.”
Addison stopped and turned around, taking a deep breath. “You’ve never told anyone before, have you?”
Keira shook her head.
The dat vitae walked back as if it was no big deal, like she was ready to move on to another topic. “Thank you. For trusting me. Us.” She gestured to Parker. “When you’re ready, there’s someone else I would really, really like you to tell. He needs to understand what’s being done to us, and I think your story, with as much detail as you can manage, would go a long way to making a difference. When you’re ready.”
Keira wanted to. If it would help the Rising, she’d try, but… “It’s hard for me to talk about.” Her eyes clouded, so she focused on the ceiling light. “I’m not sure I even can.” Saying exactly what went on would mean remembering it, reliving it. What Lamere had done to her had emptied her of fear, used it all up until she didn’t have any left. Now that she was free, even when she had a knife to her throat, she was only afraid of one thing. One thing that would haunt her forever.
But the second she started remembering what she’d lived through, all her fear would come back, and it would fill her up, and it would never go away.
“It’s okay,” Addison said, but Keira saw the disappointment in her eyes. “You don’t have to.”
“But I could show him these.” With a shaking hand Keira lifted her shirt, just enough to show the scars on her stomach. Slashes that went from her pelvis to her chest.
Addison’s mouth was tight, and Parker gasped. “Keira, I… You’re unbelievably brave. Take whatever time you need. When you’re ready to show him, I’ll be standing right next to you.”
“Me too,” Parker said from a few feet behind her. Keira knew she’d seen the scars as well because they continued all the way around her body. Almost identical, because Lamere valued symmetry. Symmetry, proportion, balance, and pain.
“Who do you want me to show?” Keira asked.
“An old friend, who’s also a vampire.”
Keira flinched, pulling her shirt down as if the fabric would protect her. She killed vampires—she didn’t show her weakness to them. A demon was a hundred times further than she ever thought she’d go. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
“Living through what you did is proof you can do anything. But take some time to think about it. Until then, I’ll speak to him about pulling the Fosfer demon off the hunt for Lamere. He has some input into that kind of thing and is a good friend to our cause when he can be. But I have to give him a reason. And you have the best reason out of all the reasons for anything.”
Keira had always wondered if the Rising had spies working close to the council, but close enough to have a say? And to actually
be
a super? Nope. Even her imagination hadn’t gone that far. Why would a super want anything to change? They had it pretty damn good.
“With those scars,” Addison said, “Lamere gave you the right to kill him however you want to. Personally, I’d go with sunlight. It’s pretty horrible and takes the most time, so he’d suffer. I might even want to spread it out over a few days, but that’s me, so…”
It was a weird thing to be smiling about, but nothing was normal in the Heights. Nothing. “I’ve been fantasizing about it for a while now—lots of candles to set the mood, a big stake, a nice glass of wine to enjoy while I crush his ashes under my boot.”
“I’ll bring the wine,” Parker said. “You bring the boots. And Addison will bring the…the grumpy guy out front who won’t let her get farther than forty feet away.”
“Graham and I share a special bond,” Addison said, smiling. “Now, I have a demon to get rid of, don’t I? If you need anything—help, money, advice…”
“I’m good,” Keira said. “Thanks. I should take off.”
“Wait!” Parker said. “I have something for you. But you’re not allowed to judge me.”
When they got back into the main room, Parker went to a shelf, pulled out a paperback, and tossed it to Keira. “It’s not my best work, but it has a little more about the most common demon breeds in there.”
Keira turned the book right side up. There was a guy’s bare chest on the cover, flames behind him, and a pitchfork forming the ‘W’ in the title. “It’s…fiction.”
“Not even very good fiction,” Parker said. “I’m a historian, not a writer. Anyway, the important stuff is there. Ignore the fluff around it—that’s just in case the wrong person finds it. But that won’t happen because you—”
“Will guard it with my life.”
The historian’s eyes softened. “I was going to say you won’t lose it. Because you don’t lose anything, do you?”
“It’s been a long time since I had anything
to
lose.” Embarrassed by the empathy she saw in their eyes, Keira tucked it into her bag and left, thankful to know such great women and to be done with that fucking demon for good.
After Keira left, Addison looked at Parker. “Wow. That’s not good.”
“Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been…”
“Yeah, that would’ve been a lot worse.”
They were quiet for a while—neither of them would speak until both of them were ready. In six months, Parker had become like a sister to Addison, the only person she could count on one hundred percent, at least who was around and who wasn’t Graham.
He’d appointed himself her bodyguard for some reason, probably because his king told him to. Even though Graham wasn’t a vampire anymore—totally Addison’s fault but for a good cause—she knew he was still completely loyal to Rhyse.
She was lucky to have him. Even though he didn’t have any powers, he was still smart and knew the signs of danger. Not that Addison had gone anywhere lately. Not since making a decision that cost twenty seers their lives.
Parker still worked in the histories department, staying so they could access information they wouldn’t otherwise be able to. After the disaster, Addison had tried to send both of them away. She was too dangerous to be close to, and she couldn’t handle something happening to her best friend. Of course, she’d completely underestimated their stubbornness. At least Logan was safe with Rhyse. What started out as advanced mind-shielding lessons had evidently become a paid position. It worked out for the best…kind of. A job on Rhyse’s staff was a million times better than being in a toy box, and it came in handy occasionally. Like whenever Addison needed to send a message to Rhyse asking for help, or when Rhyse wrote her back to say he’d do what he could and finish the letter with how much he looked forward to the day she’d deliver a message in person, so he could see her, touch her, breathe her in.
It shouldn’t be possible to miss someone this much for this long.
“He’s gotta be insanely hot.” Parker sat down in front of the enormous book she had ‘borrowed’ from work. Since it had to go back before morning, they couldn’t afford to stop looking through it and taking pictures of pertinent pages. “And no, I didn’t mean to make the pun.”
“Huh?” Addison blinked her way out of the no-man’s land between what she wanted and what she could have. “What’d you say?”
“A hunter and a Fosfer demon. That’s as bad as a dat vitae and a vamp.” It was the first time either of them had mentioned Rhyse since the demon attack, because it was too difficult for Addison to think about, let alone talk about. Parker was one of five beings who knew the full story of her and Rhyse. And who knew that the story wasn’t over, at least in terms of the Rising.
“I heard good things about Keira from Nadine before she…um…you know. But I’d never officially met her.” Addison stretched and jogged in place until she got winded, which was actually only about thirty seconds later.
I need to get in shape.
A one hundred and fifty-year-old female werewolf could outrun her. “Keira is so…different than I imagined.”
“From the way she was gawking at you, I think she’d say the same about you.”
Addison shrugged. “She’s so cute and petite. And she kills things really, really well. Did you know about her scars?”
Parker shook her head. “She showed up out of nowhere. Nadine recruited her after seeing her take down two vamps.”
“At the same time?”
“Yep.”
“Wow.” That was impressive. It was almost impossible to take one down, something Addison knew from personal experience. Hell, she’d had Rhyse strapped to her bed, weakened from the stake in his chest, and she still hadn’t been able to dust him. Instead, she’d gone the truly stupid route and fallen in love with him.
“Good for her…and us.” There was safety in numbers and, thanks to Parker, seers had information that had only been available to a few of them before.
A rebellion is a funny thing—prophesied or not. Turns out, once people heard rumor of it beginning, they didn’t just jump onboard to pitch in and help. They didn’t stand up to their oppressors or do anything differently than they had the day before. Then, of course, everyone had heard about the disaster. Horrible news always travels faster than the good stuff, so even fewer people joined up after that.
The Rising was in the weeds with no grass roots to be seen. No, they were way below grass roots. Most of the time Addison felt like they were still stuck in the worm shit.
She left Rhyse because she’d believed she could make a difference. The only things that were different: She slept in an empty bed, twenty brave seers were dead, and her belief was going downhill as fast as her health.
“Kept and tortured by a vamp for three years...” Addison sat down, her headache back. “I’m not sure I could’ve handled that. You gotta respect how tough she is.”
“I knew there was something going on with her, but that? Can’t believe an angel didn’t get to her before Lamere did.”
“Even angels make mistakes.” She remembered the first time she met Micah, the only super she loved besides Rhyse. As an angel, he’d sensed she was different from the moment he saw her. After the celebration of the Treaty of All Races was overrun with demons and Addison accidentally turned a werewolf into a dog, the angel figured out exactly how different she was. By keeping her secret, he’d earned something hard to come by in their world. Trust.
Addison sent a message through Graham to Logan, coded as usual. But instead of the message having details, it had a request, one she was finally brave enough to make. Being afraid of seeing someone she loved after meeting Keira, who was brave enough to go after someone she
hated
, made things clearer.
Darkness was Rhyse’s thing, not hers. The less she saw of it, the better. Ten minutes after sundown at a public park—since supers tended to avoid public places that had no corners to hide behind—she sat on a bench waiting for Rhyse and calling herself names for being such a wuss. She couldn’t blame her shaking on the cold.