Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (20 page)

Screw the oracle—that old bat didn’t know
shit. They’d be stronger together.
Please
. The only thing
that would happen if she stuck around was that she would die now
instead of tomorrow, and every extra day counts. So thanks, but no
thanks.

She had to hand it to Rhyse though—he taught
her how to shield so well even
he
didn’t know what she was
planning. The other supers wouldn’t bother. Seers were far too
unimportant to read unless they were acting suspiciously. So, all
she had to do was keep her shield up and act submissive.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“I truly hate you for making me do this,” she
grumbled.

“I was under the impression you hated me
prior to this.”

“We’re both right.” She took a deep breath,
stopping when her breasts seemed very close to popping out of the
corset. “I need another second.”

“They will all be gone by the time you have
gathered enough courage. You do not need courage, Addison. The only
things you need are your shield, your ID, and your ears.”

“Easy for you to say. You
like
these
beings.”

“I do not like any being. Stop stalling and
go. I will be right here waiting for you. Two minutes.” He shoved
her forward. “After you have told me what I need to know, I will
take you to your horrible home and you will be free of me.”

“There’s no place like home.”
Focus on
that. And your shield. And making sure you don’t trip on your
dress. And not bumping into any being or plants or walls. And
getting out as fast as you can.

And…damn, this wasn’t going to be easy.

A bunch of vamps waiting outside watched her
like she was a food truck as she walked up the steps, clutching her
badge in her hand, ready to flash it. But every time she got within
a foot or so of anyone, they inhaled deeply, tilted their heads as
if trying to recognize the scent, and then turned back to their
seer companions. A few male weres growled from deep in their
chests, but who knew what that meant? A warning not to get too
close, a compliment on her dress, or an invitation to a late-night
human sacrifice as the guest of honor?

Inside the hall, a number of angels who
didn’t have companions and a few demon couples watched her rush by
them. Since by law demons weren’t allowed to touch humans, they
stayed together, even though ‘couples’ was totally the wrong word
to use—normally, beings had to
like
each other to be a
couple. There were only a handful of mages—at least that Addison
saw—probably because they didn’t qualify as great party guests. She
didn’t see any witches at all, but since Rhyse said every
land-dwelling race was required to send a body of representatives,
Addison figured the witches were coven-ing somewhere nearby. All
the seers focused on their feet or the super they were with, but
never anywhere else.

At least Rhyse’s partial claiming seemed to
be working. The more supers she passed, the more her confidence
grew. Not enough to let go of her badge, but enough to stop
sweating so much she was afraid she’d lose her grip on it.

She walked down a hallway, hoping to run into
an exit before running into trouble. When the hall dead-ended, she
tried not to think of that as a bad omen and went back into the
foyer where most of the guests were. There had to be an exit across
the way.

As soon as she reached the middle of the
room, a bell rang and everyone started moving. She tried to squeeze
her way out of the enormous crowd, but going any other way than
downstream was impossible. Like heading into a funnel, the group
tightened as they neared two enormous open doors. Getting battered
from all sides, Addison focused on keeping her shield up and
avoiding anyone she might piss off. Most supers shopped in the
big-and-tall department, so she couldn’t see what was beyond the
doors at all.

As soon as they passed through the doors, the
guests spread in all directions, leaving Addison to head any way
other
than back out. Time to switch to plan B—do what she
was supposed to do until she could figure out a way to get out of
it.

Easy. Like a walk in the park…that turned out
to be a cemetery.

The house itself was larger than one of
those embarrassingly small 10,000-square-foot hovels, of course,
but there was
definitely
some magic involved here in the
ballroom—the ceiling had to be at least five stories high and the
room felt like it was about a quarter-mile from side to side.

Addison ducked her head down when a werewolf
looked at her through narrowed eyes. Weres had that whole
dominance-submissive thing and obviously a seer was never the
former. But how could Addison see who had taken over if she
couldn’t look at anyone? She pretended to admire the art on the
walls—walls didn’t care if you were submissive or not—and used her
peripheral vision to check the supers out.

She jumped when someone touched her
shoulder.

“I did not mean to startle you,” a deep,
melodic voice said. “I only wish to know who you belong to.”

Belong to
. She bit back her comment
because it would only get her killed and kept her eyes on the
being’s chest, which just happened to be at eye level. White tux,
white shirt, white tie, wings tucked away. An angel.

“Lamere,” she said quietly, hoping he didn’t
know the guy.

“Lamere?” he asked sadly. “Really? Well,
that’s…a surprise.”

She didn’t know how to react, because all she
knew about Lamere was that he didn’t date a lot.

“And he leaves you alone?”

“He’s not here yet.”
And I hope not
ever.

“Then until he arrives, I would keep you
company. It’s not wise to leave a…seer alone on nights like
this.”

“I’ve been claimed.” Kind of.

“Is that what it is?”

“What
what
is?”
Shit
. She
tightened her shield, focusing on how incredibly white his suit
was. Dirt was probably forbidden to touch an angel.

“Never mind,” he said lightly. “Perhaps I
could just keep you company for a time. You may look upon me if you
wish.”

She did. He was huge—broad chested, tall, as
flawless as all of them were. A long time ago she’d wondered why
the high races—aside from most demon subspecies and some of the
weres—seemed like they hit the jackpot in the genetics department.
Vamps chose who they turned and a pretty face on an angel probably
helped them do their jobs. The demons who were human looking,
meaning they had all their pieces where humans did and their
coloring just made them look exotic, were insanely attractive.
Maybe something about temptation, but she’d stopped caring before
she figured it out.

This one had eyes almost as beautiful as
Rhyse’s and light brown hair that looked so thick and soft, she’d
confess all her sins to just touch it. His eyes never left hers
and, for some reason, she felt like he knew what she was. She drew
back a step.

“You have nothing to fear from me. My name
is”—his lips stilled—“
Micah
.”

Okay, that was very weird. “I thought angels
didn’t say their names out loud or let anyone know what they are.”
It was something about the way they were summoned.

“The first is always true—our names must
never be spoken aloud except by another angel.” Micah smiled. “The
second is commonly true but there are exceptions. Tonight is a
strange night and you are—”

“Strange?”

“Unusual. I believe you can be trusted to
keep a secret. I hope it wasn’t a mistake.” He paused. “You may
call me ‘M’ when you’re speaking, but must not ever tell anyone
else what it is.”

She leaned towards him and whispered, “I’m
Addison. But don’t tell anyone.”

His teeth were even whiter than his suit. “If
you ever need anything”—he mouthed
‘Addison’
—“please contact
me.”

“How?”

“Say my whole name inside your mind.”

“And click my heels together three
times?”

He smiled again. “You can if you’d like, but
the only requirement is to say my whole name and ask for my
assistance with your whole heart.”

“Thanks.” It couldn’t hurt to have access to
an angel.

He bowed and stepped back.

“Wait, M—” She shut her mouth before she blew
it. “Can you tell me what’s going to happen tonight?”

“Well…” He came closer and stood next to her
so they both faced the center of the room. Beings of every kind and
shape milled around. Some eating, others not. Some drinking, others
not. There were sure a lot of them.

“We all pretend that we are happy to be
here,” Micah said, “and then at midnight, the leader of each race
will stand there”—he motioned to the center of the dance floor—“and
pledge their continued fidelity to the Treaty.”

“Sounds like one hell of a party.”

“I haven’t gotten to that part yet. Once they
are done, each race will present their greatest warrior.”

“For a beauty contest kind of thing?”

“No. For a fight to the death.”

“They celebrate peace with a fight to the
death?”

He nodded. “Those who signed the original
treaty were all leaders of their races. Now, for political reasons,
the strongest of their race
apart
from the leader is chosen.
Sacrificing their greatest warrior is in honor of those who gave
their lives for what we have now.”

That the leaders weren’t offering themselves
up for the ‘honor’ was absolutely the
least
shocking thing
she’d ever heard. “What happens after they kill each other?”

“The dead are taken away, and the victor is
awarded a trophy.”

“They do it for a lousy trophy?”

“It is a great honor to be chosen, to be
acknowledged as the strongest of your race. But it is not just a
lousy trophy. It is magical. One wish, whatever the champion
desires, whenever he or she chooses to use it.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess.”

“It is something. A great something. To be
granted your heart’s desire, immortality, or for an immortal to
reclaim his or her life if he is killed. Those are not trivial
things.”

“What would you wish for?”

He sighed. “I cannot say.”

“Me, neither.” Because he was an angel and
would be appalled by the amount of curse words her wish would
include. “Do all the races participate?”

“Yes.”

“Even seers?”

“Yes.”

A seer against any other race wouldn’t stand
a chance. Not even a slim one. Whoever the unlucky bastard they’d
nominated was dead meat. Then she realized that there was no leader
of the seer community. They were all slaves.

Before she could ask, Micah stepped in front
of her and bowed. “It is almost time. I’m sure Lamere would not
miss the fight, so I should leave you now.”

“Thanks, M. It was nice to meet you.”

“And you, Addison. I wish you peace.” If only
an angel had the power to make that happen.

As soon as he walked away, she looked for a
place to hide. She didn’t want to watch the fight and would be
screwed if Lamere showed up, but she needed to see who stood up as
the king of the vamps.

When the clock struck midnight, the hall went
silent. Then, without a glance or request from any of the supers,
their seer companions slowly moved backwards until they stood with
their backs to the walls on all sides of the great room. Addison
couldn’t
believe
how many of them there were—more than any
other race.

A traitorous and dangerous thought appeared
in her mind.
We don’t even fight anymore. If we all worked
together
… She shook it off.
Not my problem.
Hell, she
wasn’t even a seer.

It took a long time to get a crowd that large
to settle, but once they had, they also pulled back from the center
of the dance floor, exposing a huge pentagram drawn on the floor
with lines of salt. A little man walked each line with his head
down, probably verifying whatever magic they held.

After being announced by name and status, the
leader of each race stepped across the line. The order seemed
arbitrary—weakest to strongest would have started with the seers
but that didn’t happen. Mages, werewolves, witches, oh my. They
twitched as they stepped into the pentagram, as if the design’s
magic continued upwards from the line. Then some guy she’d never
seen before, looking smug and unafraid, went into the pentagram to
stand for the seers.

An absolutely revolting looking demon
instantly appeared inside. A big, gorgeous, white angel was next.
Obviously neither was the
actual
leader of their race, but
the big guy upstairs and the big guy downstairs wouldn’t show up to
something like this, no matter how important Rhyse claimed it
was.

And then, the race that led every being in
the North American zone was announced. Not because vamps were the
strongest—
that
honor went to the fae, though vamps were
nothing to scoff at—but because they were the most organized and
influential. And that was due to the jerk who’d forced her to come
here.

“Vampire,” the caller repeated. No one
stepped forward and no one moved. Or spoke. Until a murmur of
unrest moved through the crowd—feet shuffling, wings flapping, low,
guttural growling.

Finally a lone voice stood out from the
masses. Powerful, deep, using beautiful, poetic words to tell
everybody to shut the fuck up.

The sea of supers pulled back from the vamp
who’d spoken. Addison craned her neck around the beings blocking
her view. She’d see the guy, find out who he was, leave this place,
give a name to Rhyse, and go home. Perfect. Simple.

The vamp approached the pentagram but didn’t
step inside it. Instead, he turned and faced the crowd. “The Prime
sends his regrets. He cannot be here this night, but rest assured
that his heart”—