Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (16 page)

“Lamere will be otherwise occupied at the
celebration.”

She looked at him seriously. “Isn’t your date
going to be pissed when you don’t pick her up with a corsage?”

“The Prime does not
date
.”

“Thanks for the invite, but I didn’t even go
to my high school prom.”

“This is not a negotiation, Addison. This is
a deal. Your…help,” he said with distaste, “for mine.”

“How can you help me?”

“If I were to bring you back to the city now,
you would not last a day. Your mind and body both scream ‘danger.’
Even beings who cannot read minds will feel it. I can teach you how
to shield.”

That would be awesome. “From
every
kind of super?”

He nodded. “If it is within your
capabilities. Because you are immune to compulsion, I am confident
that with practice you can learn how to block most other beings.
The angels and demons are more powerful in that regard; therefore,
you could not stop them if they are determined. But if you are
strong enough, you will feel a sharp pain when it happens and only
the first layer of thought will be visible—what you are thinking at
that particular moment. To protect your secrets, you must
concentrate on something else.” He cocked his head. “Or
some
one
else.”

Minus his last innuendo, she loved the idea.
Mostly because it would keep her alive. But deliberately going into
a roomful of supers didn’t sound conducive to that. “How do you
know I won’t just run for it before we get to the door?”

“I do not. But I
do
know that if you
were to run away, I would hunt you down and kill you. Is that an
adequate deterrent?”

She swallowed. “So I help you find out who
tried to kill you and you teach me how to shield?” Why he needed
her as a date was a wonder. As backup? Moral support? Neither of
those were things she could offer him. But
man,
did she want
to know how to shield. He was offering a huge prize for a contest
she couldn’t get out of, so she’d be stupid not to take it. “Then,
after the party, I’m free to do whatever I want and you won’t just
bring me back here, right?”

“I have enjoyed our time together as much as
you have, so no, I do not intend to bring you back here anytime
soon.”

She reached out to shake on it. “I hate you.”
Then suppressed a shiver when he took her hand and brought it to
his lips, kissing it delicately.

“And I you, Addison.”

After an eternity of total humiliation, she
stormed out of the dress shop with the box under her arm. She
should just drop it now, right in the street. But she held onto it,
so she could throw it in his face.

“Are you kidding me?” she shouted as soon as
she saw him in the alley.

“Does it not meet your standards?” Rhyse
asked, his eyes running up and down her body, admiring and
condescending at the same time. Not flattering in the least.
“Perhaps if it was made from denim or old t-shirts you would like
it more.”

“If I wear this, I won’t be able to run
away.”

“All the more reason to wear it. A chase
excites most races.”

“I’m not doing this. It’s stupid and
suicidal.”

“Once you can properly shield, none will know
you are dat vitae or a disposal technician.” He pulled her into him
and phased them back to his mountain place. “As a claimed human,
you are required to wear your hair up but do not overly make up
your face. Too much attention is undesirable.”

Claimed human, my ass.
She’d wear the
stupid dress and pretend like she didn’t hate him at the party. For
an hour, tops. But he could take his claiming and shove it…right
into his chest.

~ ~ ~

Micah, an angel

“You called for me, Sebastian?”

“Yes, Micah.” The angel’s brow tightened with
a severity of emotion uncommon in their kind.

“Is everything all right?”

“Everything is as it must be, but that
discussion must wait for a moment.” He skipped all preamble and got
right to the point. “A potential new seer needs guidance.”
Potential? “It’s a special case, so I’m giving it to you.”

“I’m honored.” When Sebastian hesitated
another moment, Micah felt the tension of his elder fill his own
being.

“The child passed while in a coma and it is
unknown if she will come out of the state or not. If she does, she
will need to be informed of our world and her place in it.”

Micah was unsure of why Sebastian felt the
need to explain something all angels knew, or why he referred to
this one as a ‘special case.’ Thus far, it sounded like many
others. But he would be patient because the alternative was
useless. He would find out when he was supposed to find out.

“You will visit immediately and report
back.”

Another out-of-the-ordinary comment—if the
child was still in a coma and
had
been long enough to pass
and then return as a seer, was speed really an issue? Additionally,
an angel was never told to work quickly because it was unnecessary.
They worked hard and quickly because humans and seers depended on
them.

“Of course. And the other thing?”

Sebastian sat down and took a breath. “You
have been chosen.”

“Chosen for—?”

“To stand as champion for our kind at the
anniversary of the Treaty of All Races.”

With that, Micah understood Sebastian’s
agitation, because he felt something akin to it himself.

“It’s a great honor, Micah.”

He nodded because he agreed—being chosen as
the strongest of his race was an honor. One he would gladly do
without, because acting as champion would change him for
eternity.

“Micah?” When Sebastian repeated his name but
with a bit more concern, Micah realized he’d lost himself for a
moment.

He swallowed and focused on his elder. “I’m
happy the others will avoid it for another hundred years.” Unable
to find anything else kind or grateful or hopeful to say, Micah
left in silence.

Although there were moments of pure joy in an
angel’s existence, much of what they did was unpleasant. But these
tasks were equally if not more important—things vital to both
worlds that only angels were capable of, giving them responsibility
as well as purpose. Tasks Micah thought he would forever do. He’d
been wrong.

The contest would not end until only one
champion remained. If he lost, he would never again see heaven. As
an angel, he was a true immortal, so nothing could end his
being
. But if he won, he would
wish
there was—because
to win meant to perform the one act that would guarantee his fall.
Even though as champion he could return to grace, would he deserve
to do so?

Rhyse had guided multiple newly turned
vampires into their world. He controlled numerous races and every
supernatural in the North American zone, but the woman in front of
him was beyond his understanding. Every comment was snide, and her
stubbornness knew no limits. When she stopped bickering long enough
to try, the skill came quickly. However, had he known how much pain
it would bring, he would never have struck the deal.

“Why can you not do it without argument?” He
slammed his fist down on the mantel. It cracked and buckled,
raining pieces of stone onto the ground.

“Why can you not control your temper?” she
mimicked.

He didn’t think—he reacted. Her chair was on
its back a few feet away and she was underneath him, his hand
around her throat, her chest jumping with each gasp for air.

“You weigh a ton,” she squeezed out. “Is this
part of the training?”

He sensed her desire, but he also knew that
her mind was far stronger than her body’s wants or needs. Yet
another thing that made her different from any other being he’d
met.

“You are the most impossible being I have
ever known. Nothing comes without contradiction, including
yourself.” He loosened his grip only slightly.

“What does that mean?” Her struggle to push
him away was perfunctory, even for her. She smelled clean, female,
her heat increasing its depth until it was all he knew—her scent,
her touch, her voice, her need.

“You want me, Addison.”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Which am I to believe?” He nudged her legs
apart just enough to fit his thigh between them, pressing until she
whimpered and pushed back. “Your words or your body? Each denies
what the other demands.”

“My words are telling you no. My body is just
reacting to stimulus.” Unconsciously, she looked to his lips,
wetting her own.

“Yet your mind controls both. Your instinct
drives towards that which you are too stubborn to admit needing. It
is in the way you look at me, how your scent changes when I am
near, despite what you claim to want. You will not allow yourself
to receive what I would freely give.”

“Nothing is ever free,” she whispered. Did
she know she was rocking her hips up, bringing them closer
together?

“An even exchange, then. I will give you
pleasure, nothing more. You will give the same to me, nothing
more.” He wanted to take her mouth. He
should
take her
mouth. He was the Prime—it was his right, but something unknown
stopped him. “Another thing I do not understand about you.” Another
thing he didn’t understand about himself. “What holds you
back?”

“Being with you would be very bad for my
health.”

“I have already told you I will not hurt
you.”

“I meant my
mental
health.”

She was a puzzle he would solve. Even if it
took eons, he would understand her wholly. Even if he had to find a
way to
turn
her, he would not allow her to die while he
didn’t know and before he’d been inside her.

His hand caressed the length of her neck, his
fingers tracing her jaw, then her lips. “Would you think me
arrogant if I tell you I know you will give yourself to me
eventually?”

“Yep. And
way
overconfident.”

Things like this didn’t happen to him. Beings
like this didn’t exist for him. No one would talk to him the way
she did, frustrate him the way she did, forbid him anything.

“My life would be far easier if I simply
killed you.” He swept his lips across her neck, lingering where he
would take her first if he could.

She swallowed. “You can’t kill me. You’d go
all human.”

“Do you think I kill all my enemies by biting
them? Most taste vile, especially werewolves. Their flavor is
similar to cow—not that I could have made that comparison before I
met you, of course. No, Addison, there are many, many ways to kill
without spilling a drop.” He ran his tongue along her carotid, the
taste of her skin almost as incredible as her blood had been.

She shuddered underneath him, her exhalation
nearly a moan. “But if you killed me, you wouldn’t be able to fuck
me. Oh shit, you’re already dead, so I bet you’re into the
postmortem thing, aren’t you?”

He sprang off her, disgusted with himself,
turning away from her but not
walking
away from her. Because
he was incapable of doing so. “I have no desire to hear more of
your insults.” He heard her get up, set the chair right.

“Why did you break the fireplace?”

Because you have caged me.
“Sometimes
violence is necessary and is something we must respect.”

She scoffed. “I don’t respect violence.”

“Then respect
me
.” He glared, furious
at her for causing these desires, for making him like this. “And
grow up.”

“What does
that
mean?”

“All worlds are violent. All beings are
violent. Accept it and be glad I took my frustration out on the
mantel instead of you.”

“I am.” She paused for a moment, a human
moment. “Will you teach me how to fight supers?”

“Of course.” he said dryly. “You do not mind
staying here for the next five years, do you? Because that is how
long it will take until you could best even the weakest of
werewolves.”

“How long will it take to best
you
?
Whatever it is, I’m in.”

He could’ve shown her what he was capable of,
how he had killed countless enemies, proven she was absolutely
powerless to stop him from taking whatever he wanted. But she
needed to be strong, against others and against him. And he needed
to regain control of himself if he was to get anything but
frustration from this situation.

“You will never be able to fight one of us
hand to hand,” he said after a deep breath. “You must use the
strengths you already have.”

“Like what?” She waited for his response. “I
said, ‘Like what.’”

“I heard you. I am still trying to think of
one.” He turned away to hide his amusement. When it passed, he
continued. “Each opponent must be treated differently. Every race
has a different weakness. You can outsmart the majority of lower
shifters and most species of demons. Angels will not attack unless
provoked, so do not bleed anywhere near their mouths.”

“Thanks for the tip,” she grumbled.

“Fortunately, the mages’ magic commonly
erodes their brains; therefore they are not overly intelligent.
Unfortunately and for the same reason, they are highly
unpredictable and illogical. I suggest you run. The fae spend
little time with other supernaturals, preferring to amuse
themselves with humans, but do not make one angry. And may the
powers help you if you find yourself alone with a vampire.”

“Like now.”

“
Another
vampire.”

“I could offer the vamp my wrist. It takes
more time to bleed out from your wrist.”

“Your cleverness is unparalleled.” Her
sarcasm had rubbed off on him. “If you ask politely, I am sure he
would be happy to accommodate you in any way he can.”

“So I’m basically screwed no matter
what.”

“Let me finish. Witches are irritating but
smart. Not particularly strong physically, though, and they are a
lower race. So, there you have it—given the right circumstances,
you could prevail over a witch and a ghost.”