Read Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) Online
Authors: Lauren Stewart
Tags: #romance, #vampire, #urban fantasy, #demon, #angel, #werewolf, #vampire romance, #shifter, #alpha male, #sarcastic, #parnormal romance
“Yes, my lord,” she said, glancing at Addison
with more than a little suspicion. So Addison tried to look happily
docile and non-threatening while concentrating even harder on
keeping her shield intact.
Rhyse went to the ‘I’m so important’ chair
and pointed to the ‘I’m completely unimportant’ spot he wanted her
to stand on, right next to the chair. “Move faster.” The look on
his face could’ve been real or just part of the act, or both. When
she got to her place, he turned to all the other beings and said,
“I intend to enjoy every second of this.” And if Addison hadn’t
known better, she would’ve thought he was talking about the
contest.
“This seer is mine,” he called out, sitting
down. “You may look at her, admire her beauty, envy her position at
my side. But if any of you touch her or in any way make her unable
to perform her duties, no being on Earth, under it, or above it,
could save you.”
“Jes—”
He grabbed her by the waist, yanked her in,
and shut her up with his lips. She tried to be thankful because
what she’d almost said would have been suicide. Unfortunately,
that’s not why she was thankful. Even though she’d never made out
in front of a crowd, Rhyse seemed quite comfortable with it because
holy hell did he kiss her.
This time, he wasn’t gentle or slow or
patient. Lightning would’ve affected her less. She handed herself
over to him, the kiss, her hormones, all the things she couldn’t
control. There was no other choice—the world was forgotten, who she
was seemed meaningless. All that was real were his lips, his
tongue, his hands.
The moment his fang scratched her, he pulled
back. “Do not make me do that again,” he whispered. “I want to take
my time with you, Addison. Additionally, if I were to draw blood
next time, that would be unpleasant for both of us, no?”
“Uh huh,” she said dazedly, almost
understanding what he’d said. After blinking her way out of it, she
realized where she was—straddling his lap with her dress shoved up
to her thighs.
“You and I will need time to enjoy each other
properly.” He brushed his lips on hers softly, speaking quietly.
“For that to occur, we must be careful now. If you were to say
something that would get you killed, I would be greatly saddened.
Do you understand what I am telling you?”
She nodded, incredibly happy to hear
conversation behind her back because it meant there was a chance
everyone wasn’t staring at her. “Rhyse?”
“Your grace,” he corrected.
“Your grace, I can’t feel my legs.”
“You flatter me.”
“Take it how you want, but I can’t move
them.”
He stared at her mouth as he leaned towards
her, making it even more difficult to remember where they were. “Do
your arms work yet?” She nodded. “Then adjust your dress.” As soon
as her hands were on her skirts, he stood, holding her by the
waist. Her legs dangled uselessly until he swung her to the side
and sat back down, setting her facing forward on his lap. Her legs
might not have been able to move, but she could still feel,
especially how hard his erection was pressing against her.
He groaned. “It is a good thing you cannot
move or everyone would be in for quite a pre-show.” Then he groaned
again. “Addison, I thought you could not move.”
She looked at him over her shoulder, knowing
her desire must have been written all over her face and hating him
for putting it there.
“I would gladly have you now, pet. But we
came here for another sport, did we not?”
She swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Once it is done, I would like to show you my
home. It has twenty-six rooms.”
That made her smile. “Are you seriously
trying to impress me with your house right now?”
“And I intend to take you in each of
them.”
Her breath caught, and it stayed caught until
she coughed to get things started back up.
“So, while your home is…what it is, there are
only
three
rooms.” He shook his head. “Not nearly enough for
what I have in mind.” Then he turned to the angel doing most of the
speaking. “Carry on.”
And he did, as if nothing had happened.
All
of them did, as if the Prime hadn’t risen from the
almost-dead and brought a toy back with him.
“Don’t let them start the contest until I can
move,” she whispered.
“There is quite a bit of pomp before anything
actually begins.” A seer brought them a goblet of wine. Rhyse
handed it to her to hold while he reset her on his lap. She smelled
it to make sure it actually
was
wine and not the liquid
Rhyse enjoyed more.
A moment later he grumbled, tipping over the
now-empty goblet she handed back to him. “You were not supposed to
drink it. If you remember, we need it for something else.”
“Get two next time.”
He signaled the guy with the wine. She
stopped herself from asking for one, not knowing if toys were
allowed to drink with their patrons, but knowing full well that if
she pounded back another glass, she would do something stupid.
Like, either screwing up their plan or screwing Rhyse. Both hugely
stupid.
When the leaders left the pentagram, leaving
only the champions inside, all sound stopped. Each warrior walked
to a different point—seer, vampire, witch, mage, werewolf. The
demon and the angel stood in the middle, back to back.
Logan was at the point farthest to Addison’s
right, Lamere two points over, the were between them. On Logan’s
other side was the witch, and closest to Addison and Rhyse was the
mage.
While the angel and a were spoke about the
terrible days before the Treaty was signed, Rhyse quietly explained
that a number of the lower races, as well as the fae, weren’t
required to participate.
“Inside the pentagram, no one can use magic,”
Rhyse whispered. “The mage and witch cannot use their power, the
werewolf is forbidden to shift, angels and vampires cannot phase or
fly, and the demon cannot spit or throw fire. Otherwise, the
contest would be unfair.”
Addison was pretty damn sure it was unfair
anyway. He hadn’t mentioned anything about supernaturally enhanced
speed or strength. She avoided looking at Logan because she’d
probably start crying again. But eventually it happened. He saw
her, glanced at Rhyse, and then mouthed, ‘
Are you okay?
’ He
was about to fight for his life, and he was more worried about
her
. If she didn’t already consider him her best friend,
that would’ve made it happen.
So she silently told him, only moving her
lips. ‘
I love you, Loge
.’ When the idiot feigned
embarrassment, Addison bit her lip to stop herself from
laughing.
If Rhyse’s plan didn’t work, this would be
the last time she’d see Logan alive, so she held his gaze and tried
to convey confidence and care and anything else she could muster.
When a bell rang, his attention immediately went back to the other
beings, his competitors. He jerked, his hand going halfway to his
head before he stopped it and looked wide-eyed at Micah. They
stared at each other for a moment and then Logan nodded.
If he and the angel had struck some kind of
deal, they might take down a few of the competitors, but there was
only one victor.
Addison was Logan’s only chance.
Don’t
screw it up.
A second bell rang and the entire pentagram
lowered into the floor. No one seemed at all shocked. Just as
Addison turned around to ask Rhyse what was happening, she felt
their pedestal drop as well.
The floor right in front of all the supers
who weren’t involved in the contest folded, forming levels of tall
stairs. As the ballroom morphed into an amphitheater, Addison was
reminded of all the different reasons she didn’t want to be
here.
“I’ll have to get the name of your
contractor,” she muttered. “I was thinking of getting something
like this put in my apartment.”
“Are you afraid of a little magic?” he asked,
amused at her expense. Of course she was afraid of magic. Because
seers so rarely benefitted from it. And in
her
case,
‘rarely’ meant ‘never.’
She peered over the edge to see what the
pedestal was lowering onto. A huge sandpit. “Did you know you have
a sandpit under your house, Rhyse?” When they and the pentagram
landed, small clouds of sand puffed out from underneath. She looked
up and watched the floor finish molding itself into seats for the
spectators. Damn, that was impressive. Although, she shouldn’t have
been surprised. With enough money and magic, anything was
possible.
“Why don’t we get box seats up there?”
“In a few human sports, the best seats are
courtside. In this and this alone, we are similar.” It also meant
they were close enough to the line for her to pour some wine on it.
She psyched herself up, wiggled her hands, legs, and feet, ignoring
Rhyse’s groan.
She was here to free a demon, and nothing
else. Wow, that sounded like a really stupid thing to do. But it
was the only way to help Logan and probably Micah, too, even though
the angel might actually have a chance at winning. What he’d said
couldn’t have been right—he’d still be an angel if he won. What
else would he be?
Stop worrying about things you aren’t sure
you understand and start focusing on things you aren’t sure you
can
do.
Another bell—this one much louder—sounded and
the champions dug in, preparing for something far more dangerous
than what Addison faced.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered.
It was too much responsibility, too many lives counting on her, too
many ways to fail. “I can’t do it.”
“Of course you can.” Rhyse calmly handed her
the goblet. “All you have to do is fall.” He shoved her off his
lap, directly towards the pentagram.
Unable to stop her forward momentum, she
cried out as the line got closer and closer, wondering more and
more if she could pull this off.
The goblet tumbled out of her grasp, reaching
the pentagram just before she did, the wine washing the salt away
as it crossed the line. Addison wasn’t that lucky—she smacked
headfirst into an invisible wall and fell on her ass.
All the champions turned to gape at her, but
the demon was the only one she looked at. His yellow eyes burned
with surprise or confusion. Or maybe even happiness, for all she
knew. Demons didn’t have normal emotions
or
expressions.
“If you desire to act as champion, Seer,”
Rhyse growled loudly, “it can be arranged.” The act was scarily
convincing, actually. She apologized as she stood, keeping her head
bowed, as if she was afraid. No act there.
“If not, then I suggest you get me more
wine.”
“Yes, my lord.” Now she was supposed to use
the rest of the wine to make the second break. But there
was
no more wine.
Shit!
One break wasn’t enough—it did nothing.
And obviously, she couldn’t touch the pentagram herself or she
wouldn’t have felt a wall smack her in the face. She glanced
frantically at Logan, knowing she’d failed him.
“Seer.” Rhyse’s voice boomed from behind her,
even though his volume barely changed. She looked to him for an
answer, shrugging.
He looked at her feet. At her feet? “Be
thankful the second bell makes it impossible for
living
things to pass into the pentagram.” Then he looked at her feet
again.
What?
No. Not her feet—her shoes!
Nothing animated could pass into the pentagram but her shoe could
break the line.
She pretended to trip, kicking her leg to the
side and grabbing the heel as soon as she hit the ground.
Unfortunately, before she did anything else, all hell broke
loose.
Part of hell, anyway.
Addison threw her hands over both ears, but
it was too late. The demon champion’s unearthly screech clawed its
way through and then boomeranged back in an excruciating echo. He
shot straight up—above the spectator seats, all the way to the
chandelier.
What looked like sparks trailing out behind
him turned out to be something far more flammable. One demon turned
into two, then three, then she lost count. Each appeared in the
pentagram, and then exploded out of it like a fireworks show—a
terrifying, ugly, deadly fireworks show.
Addison’s feet left the ground as she was
dragged backwards onto the platform, Rhyse’s arm tight around her
waist. An instant later, the demons’ howls were matched and bested
by a chorus of terrified shouts from the other races. Everyone
scrambled backwards, crawling over one another to get to
safety.
“Close the arena panels,” Rhyse yelled.
“Champions, get out of here before the floor resets or you never
will.”
A seer was knocked off the upper level and
fell onto the ground just in front of Addison. The sand under the
man’s head turned red before Addison had finished screaming.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to
hurt anybody.” When she turned away, unable to look at the body
anymore, she saw something even more gruesome—a mage hanging
one-handed from the ledge above. On fire. White demon flame slowly
crept over her and all Addison could do was watch and wish the
woman would just let go. White flame wouldn’t go out or let go
until it had nothing left to consume. So all the mage was doing was
prolonging her pain and putting more beings at risk.
“I’m so sorry,” Addison said. So
inadequate.
“You are not responsible for this.” Rhyse
grabbed something from under his chair and phased them up to the
ballroom. Seconds before the floor reset itself, Micah flew
straight up carrying Logan and the werewolf champion.
Demons flew like fire-spitting wasps,
latching onto the corners where the walls met the ceiling or
anywhere else they could get a hold. They were here to have a good
time with everyone else’s lives. The angels were going after them
but there weren’t enough angels, and demons were next to impossible
to catch or defeat.