Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (29 page)

Throughout his entire existence as a vampire,
Rhyse had given up only once—a time when he had desperately wanted
to hold onto his humanity, before he’d understood it was already
gone. A time so far in his past, he’d been someone else, nothing
akin to the man he became. The man he was for centuries
afterward.

The man he was, no longer.

Addison had changed him. The process had
begun when Rhyse ingested her blood, and it continued to grow every
moment he was with her.

Who he’d been was gone. Rhyse understood that
now.

It was useless to judge it as good or bad.
All he knew was that denying those emotions, or even fighting them,
only made him weaker. They had already conquered his mind, altered
his every thought, directed his every action.

Regardless of what he might have chosen or
which course he might otherwise have pursued, those emotions were
fact, and to ignore them was to ignore the truth. So he gave up,
and he gave in. He accepted all that it, and he, was—without
regret. The most important thing now was to decide the best course
of action from here.

The other high beings could never know. If
they thought him weak, he would be challenged. While he had the
strength to defeat any of them, singularly or in groups, if enough
came forward at the same time…some walls could never be broken.

He said goodbye to the creature he would give
up anything to protect, leaving her with an order that she only get
out of bed for food or bathroom, but under no circumstances was she
to put on clothing. She should rest, while he spent the day in
meetings to find out what had gone so wrong last night and who was
to blame. Their kiss was long and difficult to break.

She put her hands on his chest and pushed.
“Go away already, Rhyse. You’re going to kill me if you’re not
careful.”

No, he wouldn’t kill her—he would take very
good care of her. To do that, he had to reestablish himself as the
leader of this zone. Because if he were to lose power, many would
suffer. If he were to lose power, Addison would suffer.

And he would be lost.

Rhyse phased directly into the great room. Or
what
used
to be the great room, but was now burnt-out
wreckage. All the bodies were gone, ‘dusted’ either by demon fire
or by Addison’s peers. No,
he
was her peer now, one of very
few.

His servants ineffectually tried to clean up
the mess until he sent them away. Kindly—a request, not an order.
Everything he had been for hundreds of years was gone and, despite
the danger, the change pleased him. Of course, no one but Addison
could ever know that.

To avoid suspicion, he told the seers to get
out, slamming the massive doors behind them. He walked the
perimeter of the room, not expecting to see any clues as to what
had happened. And
that
expectation was met.

Because Logan had repaired the line, there
was no way of knowing who’d made the second break. As Rhyse
wandered, a list formed in his mind. One that rarely left it—the
name of each race in the same order they had always been. They were
all his responsibility—to protect and to control. It was also his
responsibility to find out who had released the demons. Perhaps, at
the same time, he would discover who’d tried to kill him.

One by one he named them, considering their
power and the political stability of their race, as well as their
ambition and desire for more control in the zone. Soon, he would
meet with them in the Council Hall and would hopefully garner more
information. But he needed help.

“Tempest.”

Rhyse had never been in her rooms, never
realized quite how much humanity remained in her—the need for
things, relics from her mortal life. He slit his wrist and let his
blood drip onto the female’s mouth. Although it was half an hour
before dawn, she was young and the sleep had already taken her. She
licked her lip nonetheless, moaning at his taste but not yet
opening her eyes. He lowered his arm to her mouth, allowing her to
latch on, watching her hips press upwards and feeling the
inevitable sexual desire that occurred during a feeding. Something
he could only partially experience with Addison. As much as he
wanted to, he would never pierce her skin, feel her blood pump into
his mouth and press against his tongue, or have that warmth slide
down his throat.

But perhaps there was a way. He’d equated her
blood with poison or a snake’s venom, both things humans could
build up immunity to. To protect herself, Addison could tie him to
a bed again, this time with much stronger chains. He was hardly
submissive but, to taste every part of her, he would do it.

He imagined himself bound beneath her, his
cock deep inside her. She moved on him, pleasuring them both. And
then she cut herself, let him watch her blood form into drops, feel
each of them fall into his open mouth, taste the most vital part of
her. They would do this over and over and over until he no longer
reacted violently, until he was immune to her power, until he could
sink his teeth into her neck as they both came.

Only when he was inches away from Tempest did
he regain himself, remember where he was, who he
wasn’t
with. He had no desire—physical or psychological—to be with anyone
other than Addison.

“Tempest, you must wake.”

As soon as she opened her eyes and saw who
she fed from, she panicked and let go. “I’m so sorry, my lord. I
thought I was—”

“Remember who was on top, young one. You
would not have taken had I not chosen to give.”

She jumped out of bed and stood at attention,
completely nude. As soon as she noticed, she cursed.

“I need you now,” he said impatiently.

“Oh. Okay, my lord, I…”

“Get dressed and meet me in my office.” Not
waiting for a response, he phased to his office and made the
necessary telephone calls. The leaders of each race had twenty
minutes to get here and were allowed one underling to accompany
them. Tempest knocked on his door only a few minutes later. “Come
in.”

“I’m glad you’re back, sire.”

He wasn’t—there was somewhere he’d much
rather be. But until dusk, he would get as much done as he could
and then leave to share the night with Addison.

“I recognize you are not used to being awake
during the day. My blood will keep the sleep from taking you, but
you must tell me when its effects begin to wear off, understand?
You are useless to me if you collapse when I need you.” After she
nodded, he went on. “The other Council members will be meeting
shortly. I want you to read as many of their minds as you can.”

She widened her eyes and then grimaced.

“Your trepidation is unnecessary.” Though
understandable considering that what he was asking her to do was
punishable by death.

“Maybe not for
you
.”

“I will not punish you for something I am
asking you to do. None of them will sense you, correct?” He’d been
aware of her talent since Graham recommended her, but had only seen
it performed once. Today would be the second and final time.
Unfortunately, he now had too much to lose to trust that she
wouldn’t attempt to use her talent on him.

“The angel and the demon might. Honestly,
I’ve never had the balls to try.”

What happened wasn’t the fault of a true
immortal, he knew. “Ignore them and focus on the others.” He
intended to be open and obvious with his own activities,
distracting the Council while Tempest looked for information he
could not. “Obviously, this is something you will not tell anyone
about.”

“Obviously.”

“Good.” With a flick of his head, he told her
where to stand. Then he called in his advisors. They came in
nervously, and rightfully so. Addison had told him things
they
should have. By not having all the information, Rhyse
was handicapped, living in a forced denial of the reality of the
Highworld.

He motioned for them to sit. “Perhaps you
have forgotten, but I am the Prime of this zone. A fancy title that
most take to mean I sit on a throne and do nothing.” Unfortunately,
that’s what he had done for many, many years. Relying on the three
vampires cringing in front of him and the Council itself for
accurate information and the day-to-day agenda. Something they’d
obviously been neglecting.

It was the simple nature of beings—any group
made up of opposing communities or cultures would never see the
same things, let alone agree on priorities. Their one commonality:
The treatment of seers was of little to no importance. “I may have
been negligent in explaining what the title actually means.”

“My lord, what—?”

He silenced the vampire with a look. “And
perhaps my predecessor didn’t mind interruptions. But since I
decapitated him well over two hundred years ago, I would have
thought you would know better by now.” The vampire bowed his head.
“As Prime, my obligation is to care for my subjects,
all
of
my subjects. The high races
and
the lower races. Something I
cannot do without accurate information. Therefore, you will go to
multiple members of every race and prepare a list of their
concerns.
Every
race, with the exception of the humans, of
course.” He looked to Tempest. “You are in frequent contact with
humans, are you not?”

She nodded. Good. He would speak with her
later.

“If you are unable to do that,” he said to
his advisors, “make sure your affairs are in order and you have
designated an heir because you will no longer be necessary.” He
stood. “I suggest you get started right away.”

“But, my lord, it’s almost sunrise.”

“Am I to take that to mean you have already
determined you are not up to the task and, therefore, would prefer
to meet the sun immediately?”

After they had each assured him they would
see his order done, he dismissed them.

“Do you visit the Houses of Diversion,
Tempest?”

She swallowed. “Um… I’m a female—we don’t
usually have to pay for it. But I’m not into that kind of thing
anyway, my lord.”

He turned to her. Obviously, she was
uncomfortable discussing sex with him—another sign of her youth and
the humanity that remained in her. But that wasn’t the part that
troubled him.

“What kind of thing?”

“The stuff that goes on in the houses. The
hardcore stuff.”

He closed the space between them. “If any
beings are being abused by another race, it is my responsibility to
stop it from happening. Because of your position, it is also
your
responsibility. So, are you telling me you knew it was
happening but did not think to tell me?”

“Your advisors...”

He felt his lip curl as he walked down the
hallway. Unfortunately, in this case ‘advisors’ was a misnomer.
“Who are you here to serve, Tempest? Them or me?”

She jogged to keep up. “They told us—Graham
and me—not to say anything because—”

“The reason does not matter.” Nor did his
advisors’ positions above Graham and Tempest. His steps didn’t slow
at all. “All it means is that, because three piles of ash cannot
complete the task I set to them, you and Graham will have to do it
instead.”

As they neared the Council Hall, Rhyse
became more and more disturbed that he hadn’t seen Graham. Not
knowing if it was common for his marshal not to be in his rooms,
Rhyse was sure Graham wouldn’t dare miss the meeting, even fighting
the sleep.

He and Tempest walked into a packed room of
anxious beings. He silently greeted every one of them, judging
their demeanor, whether or not they met his eyes. Each race reacted
differently, and that had to be taken into account. The demon and
angel acknowledged him confidently—polar opposites, yet more
similar to each other than any others. Both were the only true
immortal creatures in existence, for though vampires were said to
be immortal, they could be ended by a stake to the heart,
decapitation, or with prolonged exposure to sunlight. The fae could
be banished from Earth, sent back to their own world permanently.
Weres were dispatched with silver or decapitation, while mages and
witches could be killed in a multitude of ways, just like
humans.

Yet they were all there because he had called
them, because they accepted his power over them. A power given by
the Treaty and held onto by Rhyse’s own strength. If a lesser
vampire took power over the North American zone, the position could
be lost to another race forever. It had happened in other
zones.

But once a being was aligned with a zone, it
was impossible to gain power in another. An additional act of the
Treaty—keeping the zones separate so no
one
race or
individual held the entire world.

Ill at ease, Rhyse looked to Tempest and
mouthed Graham’s name. She shook her head and shrugged. Before
Rhyse left the battle, he’d told his marshal the meeting would
happen. Rhyse had a moment of regret, wondering if he should have
stayed—if he’d somehow missed a source of danger, because he was
blinded by his concern to get Addison out of there.

He motioned for them to sit. “I understand
how occupied you all must be with your own kind,” he said. “I thank
you for coming.” As if they had a choice.

The leaders sat around the long table, their
underlings standing just behind them. It was nothing more than
show—even if a being was stupid enough to war with another race,
none would do it within these walls. The equalized hate between
each race was all the checks and balances their world needed.

“Dronic, what do you know about last night?”
he asked the demon. First level, of course, or he would be
surrounded by salt. A Fosfer Demon, like Davyn, one of the only
truly human-looking breeds. Although Dronic hadn’t been at the
celebration itself, as a representative of an all-knowing being,
his knowledge was integral.