Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (31 page)

After they hung up, Addison thought about
what Dawn had said. Someone couldn’t ‘figure something out’ if a
vamp wasn’t treating them well. Sure, there were limits, which was
why the box system was created and all the unsanctioned keeping of
humans was outlawed. But seers couldn’t do anything as long as
their treatment was within certain guidelines, and the guidelines
were liberal. The Prime would be about as above the law as any
being could get.

The only people who were fighting the rules
were the rogue seers.

Holy shit, Dawn is rogue
. Rogues
weren’t organized. They were just random people with death wishes,
and the only time anyone heard about them was when one died in a
really, really horrible way. She could never let Rhyse or anyone
else find out about Dawn. If they did, she
and
Dawn would be
executed—no matter who they were dating. Dawn for being rogue, and
Addison for aiding and abetting and a bunch of other stuff.

One more thing to worry about. One more
friend who might die. One more thing she couldn’t stop from
happening.

You idiot, Dawn.
She slumped down to
the floor, tucking her legs up and resting her forehead on them.
Yes, a seer’s life sucked and things should change. But that was
never going to happen. By working solo, the rogues made it too easy
to kill them off one at a time.

Shit, why hadn’t any of them figured out they
might actually stand a chance if they were organized? Seers had
lived in fear for so long, they needed someone to lead them—proven
by the group standing scared shitless in the middle of a battle
zone until Addison got them moving. Without someone telling them
what to do, to lead them out of danger, those idiots would’ve
stayed there until the demons or the fire claimed them. What if she
hadn’t been there to—?

Oh, shit
. Someone to lead them out of
danger...to freedom.

What was she thinking? In addition to being
treasonous, it was also impossible and beyond stupid. Eventually
somebody else would rant about the same things and come to the same
conclusion, and Addison would wish them all the luck in the
world…from far away.

She went downstairs and found Felicity
crouched in front of the fireplace stacking some wood into a loose
pile. She touched one of her thick bracelets and the wood caught
fire.

“You’re a witch!”

Felicity spun around, her eyes wide.
“Addison, I didn’t know you were down here.”

“Why can’t I feel you?” A witch’s power
signature was far more subtle than a vampire’s, but Addison
should’ve felt
something
. If she’d been paying attention,
been on guard even a little bit.
Damn it.

Felicity stood. “I’m still training, so my
connection to magic is probably still too weak for you to
feel.”

She said, “How interesting,” to cover her
sigh of relief. Thankfully, witches were a lower race which meant
their power, especially alone, was limited. So there was no chance
a newbie like Felicity could read minds. “Rhyse knows, doesn’t he?”
Of course he knew. He knew, like, almost everything. “Why are you a
housekeeper if you’re a super?”

She laughed. “Because I like to eat. With a
few exceptions, witches don’t gather crazy wealth like the higher
races seem to. Since I’m not officially a witch yet, my life is
basically human.”

Rhyse hired her, knowing she was a
witch-in-training. Being a witch was hereditary, but since witches
did
magic and weren’t magic themselves like the mages, they
used spells, talismans, and the power of the earth. Addison never
thought about how they learned to do it, but a training program
made sense.

“What kind of magic can you do?”

“We start with the elemental kind because
it’s closer to the earth. So, in terms of practical magic, I can’t
do much more than grow vegetables, set fire to kindling, and heat
water.” That’s how she’d heated the bath water. Addison felt better
about loving it so much now that she knew it hadn’t come at the
expense of someone’s back.

She suddenly felt very awkward, without
really having cause. She gave the cell phone back. “I made a call.
Sorry. I’ll pay you whatever it cost times two.”

“Don’t worry about it—I have a decent plan.
I’m just glad it works. Cell reception is really unpredictable up
here.”

Everything
seemed to be unpredictable
up here.

“What did you find out?” Addison asked Rhyse
as soon as he phased back. “Does anyone know about me?”

“I do not believe so, but it is too early to
be sure.” Which basically meant the city wasn’t totally safe for
her yet, but no one was printing up Wanted: Dead or Dead posters of
her yet either.

Rhyse set her photo album and a large bag on
the bed and looked at her expectantly.

“What’s that?”

“I looked in your apartment to know the kinds
of things you enjoy, but you do not seem to enjoy jewelry,
attractive clothing, or things in general. So I bought you
books.”

“Oh, books are good. Thanks.” She started
sorting them, a bit concerned that so many of them seemed like a
sign he didn’t expect her to leave anytime soon.

He picked up a small wooden table and smashed
it against the wall. She jolted backwards, eyes and mouth wide. But
it didn’t seem like he was angry. At her or at the table.

“Why did you do that?” she yelled, using the
blanket as a shield. “That thing probably cost more than I make in
a year!”

“You need not worry about money any longer.”
He picked up a shard about a foot long. “You need worry about
me.”

She scooted up on the bed. “What does that
mean?”

He set the piece of wood next to her. “This
is protection. The servant will procure a few other items that, for
obvious reasons, I cannot retrieve.”

“No church on Sundays for you, huh?”

“Or any other day.”

“Are you going to tell me why I need
protection?”

“I should have thought of it sooner. We have
been very fortunate thus far, but I almost nipped you at the Treaty
celebration, and that was merely a kiss.”

“You’re giving me permission to stake
you?”

“I am giving you permission to do what the
would-be assassin did. Don’t miss.”

“Don’t bite.” She ran her tongue over her own
canines. “You can’t keep those things tethered?”

He raised an eyebrow. “How much can you keep
your nipples from tightening?”

“Not at all.”

“My answer is the same. It has never been
necessary to keep them withdrawn before. I have tried very hard to
be careful, but in moments of…distraction, it may happen
regardless. We both know what happens when I ingest only a small
amount of your blood.”

“Can’t you wear a retainer?”

“What is a retainer?” He held up his hand,
stopping her from responding. “It does not matter. What matters is
I believe you were making fun of me.”

“I believe you are right.”

“Do you know what would happen to anyone who
dared make fun of the Prime?
If
it ever happened.” He
crawled onto the bed, a very wicked look in his eyes.

She pulled her knees up to her chest. “You
gonna throw me in the dungeon?”

“Of course not.” He ripped the blanket out of
her hands. “But you will be punished.” He started at her toes, lips
and tongue gliding up her leg torturously slow.

“Punished how?” Her voice betrayed her,
warbly and weak with need. Even totally clenched, her leg muscles
didn’t slow him down. He spread her knees apart and continued his
chosen path up the inside of her thigh.

He punished her and punished her until she
was begging him to stop. Or at least give her a little break.

She was never going to recover. Hours and
hours of his attention. Not just sex, thank the powers, because
that would’ve killed her. Rhyse never stopped touching her—kissing,
massaging, bathing, feeding her. He made her feel like a goddess.
Or a queen.

“You know, Rhyse, a girl could get used to
this.”

“I hope she does,” he whispered.

“Stop…stop saying stuff like that. It weirds
me out.”

He held her wrist, guiding it so her
fingertips brushed his lips, capturing them with his teeth or
tongue when he wasn’t speaking. “Well, I would not want to say
anything that might ‘weird you out.’”

“How many other women have you kidnapped and
brought here for nights like that?”

“None.”

“Why not?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I have never desired
it.”

She pulled her hand away. “I’m not
special.”

“Yes, you are.” Rolling to his side, he
looked at her with something new in his eyes. Something she didn’t
understand. Or want. “You are very special, Addison.”

“Because I’m dat vitae. Right.” It made
sense. He was the Prime, used to having the best and rarest. What
could be more exciting than a once-in-a-lifetime bang with the only
being who could take away all your power if you nipped her too
hard? “You say humans are attracted to you so they can dance
towards death, but you’re no different.”

“You have brought me life, not death,
Addison. I will not drink from you because I do not desire an
end.”

“So it’s just the inner me then?” She shifted
away, needing to know what this was before she could decide how she
felt about it. “Say I wasn’t dat vitae. Would you still have
kidnapped me and taken me to bed?”

“No, if you were not dat vitae, I would have
drained you. We spoke of this earlier.” How could he say stuff like
that as if it didn’t mean anything?

“Right. Because you were hungry and wouldn’t
have been able to stop.”

“In part. But even after I had your blood, I
thought to kill you.”

She flopped onto her back. “Well,
that
makes me feel a lot better.”

He leaned over her, holding his weight with a
hand near each of her shoulders. “You are not asking the right
question, Addison. You should be asking why I stopped myself even
when I knew I should not.”

“Why did you stop yourself?”

“Because you belong to me.”

“I don’t want to belong to anyone.”

“It is not a painful feeling. In fact, I find
it quite pleasurable.”

Her heart stopped beating for a second. “Who
do you belong to?”

“I belong to you.”

“You can’t belong to me.” She ducked under
his arm and scooted out of bed. “You’re…
you
. The Prime. A
king. A vampire.”

“I can be all those things.” He said it so
matter-of-factly, as if it was a decision he’d made after deep
contemplation, thinking logically, and weighing the pros and cons.
But it was completely illogical. And completely impossible.

She grabbed her pants and tugged them on.
“You can’t belong to a seer and be the Prime at the same time.” And
certainly not to a seer who was only pretending to be a seer and
who was seriously messed up right now and kind of felt like
crying.

“Obviously, your ownership of me cannot be
known.” He got out of bed calmly, put his pants on calmly, and
spoke calmly.

She was freaking out. “I don’t own you,
Rhyse!”

“If it is the vernacular you object to, I
shall use another word. One more agreeable to your ears.”

She finished getting dressed without taking
her eyes off him, while he thought of another word to use. As if
that was the only problem. “When did you figure all this out?”

“When I realized I value your life as much or
more than my own.”

Oh, powers. This might just be more
terrifying than him killing her.

“Your face is so expressive, but the meaning
of each expression still confounds me.”

That was probably a good thing.

“I will understand them eventually.” He
wrapped his arm around her, pulled her in tight, and phased them
somewhere before she had a chance to truly analyze that
statement.

But one word was unmistakable—eventually.
‘Eventually’ implied that he expected them to spend more time with
each other. But ‘eventually’ he would realize he didn’t want to
belong to her, and ‘eventually’ he’d decide he didn’t want her to
belong to him, and then ‘eventually,’ if she wasn’t dead, she would
try to figure out a new life—plus the dat vitae thing and minus the
Rhyse thing.

Right
? Damn it, she was so
screwed.

If he—

If I—

He’d just admitted something she
never
would have. Because there was no way in hell or on Earth that he
felt the same way. Except he
did,
which meant…

I’m so screwed.

Rhyse understood Addison was nervous,
confused by their discussion. Unfortunately, he didn’t know which
she feared more—the danger around them or the danger between
them.

Because he could not force her to make up her
mind, he took her somewhere that would at least bring back her
smile. When they arrived on the beach, she was silent, looking at
the sand under her feet. The tide had swallowed up a large portion
of shoreline, but it was still one of the most beautiful strips in
the zone. The high moon reflected off the water, lighting her from
behind. Perfectly. Rhyse took a step back, knowing she needed a
moment to quell her nausea and absorb the beauty of the moment.

“Perhaps there is something you can take
before we travel to prevent your nausea.”

“Where are we?” she asked, wiggling her toes
in the sand.

“Columbus Isle.”

She turned to him, beaming. “It’s amazing.”
Then she laughed. “Why the hell are you looking at me when you
could be looking at this?” She swung her arms out and spun in a
circle. When she stopped, her back to him again, her entire body
tensed. Before he could say a word, she bolted, a flat-out run down
the beach. For a reason he couldn’t begin to contemplate.

He could have phased in a few feet in front
of her, but instead he ran. Not fast, just enough to roughly match
her speed. His strides lengthened, the sand adding an enjoyable bit
of resistance as his weight sunk into it.