Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (5 page)

“Remove the silver bindings,” he
commanded.

“No way in hell.”

He paused, unsure of what he’d just heard.
“What did you say?”

“No. Fucking. Way.”

Evidently, his wound had affected him far
more than he’d thought. He tried again, more forcefully this time.
“Remove the bindings.”

“No.”

“You—” He pushed into her mind incrementally
harder, knowing if he went too far, he would destroy her, turn her
into a drooling imbecile, incapable of thought or action. And that
would hardly be useful to him.

She shivered and then scratched her forehead,
smiling uncomfortably.

He pulled back, confused. “Why do you
smile?”

“It’s not possible for your brain to tickle,
is it?”

“Tickle.”

She nodded. “Tickle.” With one word, she
emasculated him, proved he was weaker than he ever imagined
possible.

“That cannot be.”

“I would’ve thought so too, but it’s the only
way I can describe it.” She looked behind her, then at him before
wiping her face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Come to me,” he commanded with more force
than he’d used in centuries.

“You don’t hear the word ‘no’ very often, do
you? It means that I’m not going to do what you ask me to.” It was
almost as if she didn’t know who he was. More likely, she knew how
limited her remaining days were, regardless of how she behaved.
Perhaps he should remind her how many ways there were to die and
how painful each could be.

“I am not asking.”

“Did you use your power?”

He said nothing, his pride suddenly something
easily swept away. Just as whoever had put him in this position
would be, as soon as he was strong enough to do it.

“You did!” she shouted, pacing across the
room. “You tried to use your power on me when all I’m doing is
trying to help you.” She stopped and looked at him. “Why didn’t it
work?”

“It
did
work.”

“When?”

“You came to me when I commanded you to.”

“No, I came to you because I decided to.”

“Why would you do anything I wish you to of
your own volition?”

“Because evidently
I
have a death wish
and
you
have some kickass pheromones or something. If you
really did it, do it again.”

“I do not care to.”…
admit
that he may
have already burned through his remaining power. “I wish to
feed.”

“Then compel me to feed you.”

“No.” But he tried. He felt himself move into
her mind as with any being, but he could only see a whisper of her
thoughts. The rest were blurred to him. Even against a newly turned
vampire, it was unheard of for a human to do. Although every now
and again, one was found to have greater-than-average
abilities.

She shook her head, putting a hand to her
temple. “Are you doing it?”

In frustration, he pushed harder, violently.
Something slammed into him—not his body, his power. Something
unseen, unknown, shoved him out of her mind. Impossible.

He studied her. None of the lower races were
capable of it, so he ignored them altogether. A mage, then? He’d
never met one strong enough to do anything like that, and he didn’t
sense the magic of a mage or the insanity it caused. Obviously, his
power was diminished due to the injury to his body. Once he fed,
the chains would mean nothing.
She
would mean nothing,
regardless of what she was. More than how she did it, he wanted to
know about the creature who would defy him so boldly, so
dangerously.

“Have you ever been compelled?”

“No.” She grimaced. “I used that word you
don’t know the meaning of again. I’m not a big fan of hanging out
with vamps.”

“Then why am I here?”

“Listen, I want you to go away a lot more
than you want to go away. So all we’re waiting on is for me to
figure out how to do it.” She was so very mortal.

“Why do you fidget so much?”

She stopped shifting from leg to leg and
gripped her thighs to still her hands. “I’m not. And, even if I
was, it would be totally natural.”

“Extraneous movement is just that—extraneous.
Why would one spend a portion of what is a very short time on the
planet doing something extraneous?”

“Weren’t you human at some point?”

“Of course. Thankfully it did not last.”

“Right, I’m sure it felt great to get over
that pesky mortality thing. And the morality thing too, I
guess.”

“It makes you happy to believe I lack a sense
of morality.” Even if he cared what a seer thought of him, he knew
nothing he said would change her mind.

“I haven’t been happy for about…” She checked
her watch. “Six years.”

“Not even a blink of time to me.”

She sat down and studied him for a moment.
“It was just horrible, wasn’t it? Being human?”

“Constantly living in fear of pain,
starvation, and death? Yes, those things are horrible.” Rhyse
didn’t know why he spoke to her—he had no interest in lower beings.
Perhaps it was because it had been centuries since someone had
dared speak to him as if he were a peer. Not that this seer was
even
close
to being mistaken for his peer. She was either
incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Or both.

“So feeling nothing is better?”

“I still feel hunger, and you have seen me at
my weakest. However, being without fear is priceless.”

“There’s always a price. You just aren’t the
one to pay it.”

“You are referring to those we feed from.” He
continued after she nodded. “It has been centuries since I drank
from a human who did not desire it.”

“Because you compel them and then alter their
memory so they don’t remember how awful it was.”

“It is not awful, and they offer themselves
willingly, knowing exactly what will happen. We alter their
memories for no other reason than to protect the Highworld. You
claim to be human, yet you know very little about their race. How
are we depicted in their world? Not solely as demons as we once
were. Now vampires are powerful, erotic, often bonded to one human
by an emotion that, in reality, we cannot feel. It is not our fault
they prefer fantasy over reality.”

“And the reality is you’re just death in a
pretty package.”

“We do not have to kill to feed. It happens
on occasion, but the system prevents countless human deaths.”

“Tell that to the free-range kills.”

“The—?”
Ah-ha.
The sanctioned kills.
“One per human generation versus one every few days. Do you really
desire to return to that?”

“What I’d really like is for you to keep your
fangs in your pants and stop killing any of us.”

“Impossible. Neither prohibition nor
abstinence work.” The system was not perfect but, in three hundred
years, no one had come up with anything better, and no one had the
strength and will to break the Treaty.

She scoffed. “Well, thank the powers
everybody’s free to slaughter their own kind.”

“The system you detest stopped the constant
wars between the races,” he said, not knowing why he desired to
convince her of something she could never comprehend. “Wars that
cost many, many lives—both supernatural and human. As long as the
Treaty itself is not defied, the races can do as they like among
their own. Each time we war against each other, beings who are
uninvolved die, and the Highworld’s secrecy is threatened.”

“There has to be a way that doesn’t include
using seers as servants or snacks.”

He couldn’t expect a seer to understand
something as complicated as Highworld politics; therefore, he would
not discuss it, or anything else, with the seer. “When you think of
something better, please let me know.”

“I will.” She spoke without emotion, staring
not
at
him but through him. Ignoring a being who was never,
ever
ignored. And it bothered him to no end.

Rhyse’s skill with anticipating the actions
of others was one reason he was the Prime, but this one refused to
act predictably, as if she deliberately went against her own best
interests. It created a sense of curiosity he had never believed
he’d feel again, and was as unexpected as his physical
weakness.

He was at her mercy. Vulnerable. Yet instead
of using his weakness to gain power for herself as any rational
being would, she seemed to truly want to heal him. As if she valued
his life at the expense of her own. Very soon, he would kill her
with a lift of his hand, a touch, yet she didn’t seem to care
enough to kill him now, as she should. Being unable to determine
her motives made him far more uncomfortable than the silver chains
or the lumpy mattress. He greatly disliked being uncomfortable.

“Do you often strap males to your bed, or am
I the first?”

“Be quiet.” When he hissed at the command,
she held up her hands. “
Please
.” Better, but far from good
enough. Her tone held too much sarcasm. “I need to think.”

He didn’t need to read her mind to know what
she was thinking—her body gave her away. The way she leaned towards
him one moment then rocked back as soon as she realized she’d moved
closer. Her inner struggle apparent on her face, the darting of her
gaze from him to the stake on the nightstand to the drapery on the
windows. But always back to him.

She wanted him to die, but wouldn’t do it
herself. She wanted
him
but wouldn’t let herself. The latter
was common—particularly in humans. The draw of pleasure, the
yearning for death. Long ago, Rhyse found he had no desire to give
them what they longed for—a taste of damnation and immortality.
There were other females to fulfill his physical needs who were not
as bothersome.

This one had seen him weak, kept him captive,
and spoke to him as if he wasn’t who he was. It was not amusing,
and he had no desire to be here any longer than absolutely
necessary. Yet she was different, intriguing. Her scent for one.
Perhaps he would wait before putting her down, just until he knew
what she was.

She was simply as all lower beings were, and
although Rhyse had never considered or cared about what that meant,
he did now. She was nothing of importance, nothing more than a
servant, who despite her tongue had to understand that every
supernatural race would stop at nothing to keep her from stepping
out of her place.

“When you find out who tried to kill you,”
she said, her eyes shining, “kill him once for me, too. If it
wasn’t for him, I’d still have a life. A shitty one, but at least
it was a life.”

Rhyse didn’t respond, focusing instead on the
beginnings of a plan. He could use her to investigate the attempted
coup and reveal the enemy he sought. Any other being would be
noticed, suspected, but not a seer. He almost laughed at the
perversity—she was now the most trustworthy and important ally he
had.

The seer stood, sighed, and walked away.
Under her awful clothing was something truly beautiful. It would be
a shame when her life force left that body. First he would recover
and, if she didn’t free him, he would free himself. Then she would
aid him in discovering which of his people had done this to him.
Then she
and
his enemy would die.

“I’m gonna go freak out in the living room
for a little while,” she said from the doorway. “Wanna watch a
movie until you do the coma thing?” She seemed to miss the
absurdity of the question, making him wonder about her sanity. If
he had any intention of exchanging blood with her, he could heal
her mind of that.

But of course, he would not exchange blood
with her—he would
take
blood from her.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” She went to the bureau and
set a laptop computer on top of it, aiming the monitor so he could
see it. “I only have Netflix, but they have a lot of good stuff.
What do you normally watch?”

“Was that a serious question?” he asked after
a moment. “You are asking the vampire you strapped to your bed what
kind of films he enjoys?”

“I need to figure out how the hell I’m going
to get out of this without dying and you—well,
both
of
us
are stuck here until I do.” She turned back to the computer
and clicked a few times. How about
Angel
?” She laughed
nervously. “This is so messed up.”

When she turned towards him, he saw tragedy
in her eyes, an open soul unlike any he’d seen outside of the
angels.

“Are you nephilium?” he asked quietly,
without thinking. She would be the first half-angel since the
Treaty went into effect, but it was possible.

“It’s just a show. He’s not an
actual
angel, he’s a vamp. And he’s in love with—Yeah, total fiction. It
would probably horrify you. Or make you want to stake yourself.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re watching it.” She took a breath.
“Look, I don’t want you to die, but I don’t want me to die, either.
So, if there’s a way…Never mind. I’m gonna go now.”

Perhaps he wouldn’t kill her after all. Even
though he was the Prime, he would follow the law until it proved
impossible. Her mind would be wiped of this entire episode once she
had served her purpose. But before that, he would discover what she
was, and he would take her to bed.

Humans were warm, soft, and shared their
emotions openly. Mortal emotions. It had been so long since he’d
spent any time with one, he’d forgotten how amusing they could
be.

When Addison went back into her room, the
vamp lay there, staring at her. Why wasn’t he asleep yet?

“Reach into my pocket,” he said.

Eww
. “I never would’ve thought I’d be
shocked to hear a vamp say something so deviant-sounding.”

“There is cash in the pocket of my jacket.
Take the monies and find me something potable. Something
human.”

“Sure, I’ll just go to a 7/11 and buy a
six-pack.” She’d pulled the thick stack of bills out before she
realized what buying him blood would entail. “I can’t. I’d have to
find a bagboy and he’d want to know why a seer needs blood. Then,
even if I could come up with an excuse, he’d have to go to a
grocer, which would make it traceable.”