Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (12 page)

“Are we there yet?” she asked, smiling.

He remained silent for a bit longer. He’d
been wrong—it
was
dangerous here. For him, danger existed
wherever she was. “You may open your eyes now.” He lowered her to
the ground.

She turned in every direction in a matter of
moments, looking everywhere at once. “Wow, Rhyse, you take me to
the fanciest places.” Her sarcasm no longer surprised him.

“I cannot take you anywhere nice until you
learn how to dress appropriately.”

She scowled at him. Such a lovely scowl. “Now
what?”

“Now we wait to be attended.” He gestured
towards a low bench, cushions spilling over it. “Sit.”

She crossed her legs and then re-crossed them
more times than he could count. He put his hand on her thigh to
still her. “All you have to do is listen.” Something simple for
most, but impossible for her.

“But what—” The chime of a bell stopped her
only briefly. “What was that for?”

“It is a signal for you to close your
mouth.”

A woman appeared, at least Rhyse assumed it
was a woman, as most oracles were. But within the race, gender was
indistinctive, age a misnomer—their kind was created, not birthed.
Adults, never children. And they were all blind, their eyes wide
and colorless. The first time he visited one, he’d almost asked if
her irises and retinas were turned inward in their sockets,
allowing the oracle to see beyond what any other being could. His
guide had stopped him moments before the question left his mouth.
To ask an unsolicited question meant immediate dismissal and
permanent banishment from the catacombs.

He should warn Addison one last time. He
looked at her, saying nothing, warning her with his eyes and by
bringing both of his lips between his teeth. She nodded her
understanding and promptly began to squirm again. His grip of her
leg tightened until she stopped, but he didn’t remove his hand.

“Why did you bring her here, Vampire?” the
oracle asked.

A bolt of unease careened through him. Only
the being
involved
was spoken to. Rhyse wasn’t involved. Not
that he was aware of. “We wish to learn what we can about her
kind.”

The oracle faced Addison directly, her head
sweeping up and down as if she could actually see her. “Come here.”
She reached a gnarled hand out. Addison glanced at him for guidance
he was incapable of giving—he’d never even heard of an oracle
allowing a physical connection to another being, let alone inviting
it. He nodded because there was no one else they could go to.

Addison stood slowly, stepping towards the
old woman, her arms tight to her sides.

“Take my hand.” The moment their skin
touched, the oracle wailed. Without thought, Rhyse stepped between
them, yanking Addison’s arm back before he could weigh the
ramifications of his actions. As the oracle cackled, Rhyse clenched
his jaw until he could quell his hostility.

“A vampire king and the first dat vitae to be
found in centuries?” The woman laughed. “You couldn’t have chosen a
worse pairing if you’d tried. What were you thinking, Vampire?”

“She aided me when I was wounded, but we are
not involved in any other way.”

“Obviously not in the one you want.” Her
cackle continued. “I will not hurt your heart, Vampire. I wish to
read her, and the only way that’s going to happen is if you allow
me to touch her.”

My heart?

His heart. Well, wasn’t that worthy of a
strong rebuttal and a number of clarifying questions? A rebuttal
the oracle would laugh at and questions she would never answer,
even if she allowed Rhyse to ask. As she put out her hand again, he
bowed and stepped to the side. Addison looked even more frightened
now.

“She will not hurt you,” he told her. He
would not let her.

She put her hand into the old woman’s, barely
breathing. He heard the wild pumping of her heart and put his hand
on the small of her back to convey confidence, a promise of
protection. Again, his own thoughts confused him. He would protect
those he
led
, not the being who could undo them.

The oracle’s head drifted upwards, swaying
side to side. “You are dat vitae, Bringer of Life.”

“Oh, crap,” Addison mumbled. “That can’t be
right.”

The oracle ignored her. “What do you know of
your kind?”

“Um…not a lot. Some stuff about my toxicity
and that they have a propensity towards death and… Yeah, that’s
pretty much it.”

“Our races are much alike,” the old woman
said. “All other beings from this world began as something else—a
spirit like the angels and demons or a child like the vampires and
shifters. But you and I do not.”

He could sense Addison was about to say
something, so he leaned closer and shushed her, making her shudder
but remain quiet.

“There will be none of that here, Vampire.”
She smirked. “Bringer of Life, you and I come from nothing. We were
never children, never spirits. We are magic like the fae, but of
this world. At one time, your kind outnumbered mine. The dat vitae
had power we do not, one that brought them incredible danger. We
oracles cannot change other beings. Our magic allows us insight—of
what came before, what is now, and some of what is to come. Your
kind binds all races into one, your magic altering the powers of
all to create something new. The dat vitae referred to themselves
as the antidote for all supernatural beings.”

Rhyse stiffened. As if higher beings were
diseased and should be cured. No wonder the vitae were wiped
out.

The oracle let go of Addison’s hand. “You
give humanity to those who have either lost it or who have never
experienced it.” She nodded. “Ask the question you wish, Life
Bringer.”

“Um…right now?”

“Is that your question?”

“No,” she said hurriedly. “I just wanted to
know how many I get, so I can figure out where to start.”

“You may ask one question until I invite
another. I suggest beginning with what is most important to
you.”

“Well…” Addison looked at Rhyse uncertainly.
Before he could speak a word, she did. “Staying alive is pretty
high on my list, so how can I make that happen?”

“I cannot answer your question directly, as
it has to do with many factors, many of which have yet to be
determined. Your every decision creates a new future. What I see is
like the wind. My sight follows it, sees the mountains and valleys
it will come upon. Yet the direction and force of the wind can
change at any time, for reasons we can understand and some we
cannot. Even by coming here you have altered things slightly.”

The oracle smiled. “In a good way. Yet you
have many trials ahead.” She turned towards Rhyse. “Both of you.
Some you must face together, others apart.”

Ridiculous. To stay together any longer was
fantasy. To
stand
together for what was to come was utter
lunacy.

The oracle twitched and the pitch of her
voice lowered. “Do not deny your union, chaste though it may
currently be. For there is benefit to you both—a strength in your
joining that neither of you possess on your own.” Then she sighed.
“What do you wish to say, Vampire?”

“You speak of the future, yet—”

“You are correct. It is not what we commonly
do, but neither is it forbidden. Very little is forbidden us. Our
words can be dangerous and we are responsible for every one we
speak; therefore, we err on the side of caution. The vitae asked
how she could stay alive. I told her how, and I told her it will
continue. But that can change. There is nothing more uncertain than
the future, because free will rarely follows logic and order. If it
did, it wouldn’t be free. I can tell you of the past and warn you
of a possible future. I can advise you of your strengths, your
bond, and your weaknesses. But that is all. The rest is up to
you.”

Addison blew out a frustrated breath.

“I advise you to stay together for as long as
you can. You will need each other, though for differing reasons, in
different ways.” Then she grumbled. “Ask.”

He and Addison looked at each other, unsure
of whom the oracle addressed. Both of them needed answers, though
his
life was not the reason they’d come. He mouthed,
“
Ask.
”

“You said we are created, not born, but while
my birth and the first couple years are a blur, I remember being a
child. And my teenage years are pretty well burned into my brain,
which is really unfortunate, actually. But since I
know
I
grew up, maybe I’m not one of the dat”—the pitch of her voice rose
when he whispered a reminder that she had to ask a
question—“vitae?”

“You
are
dat vitae and you
were
created. When you arrived in the catacombs, what did you see? The
past or something to come?”

She looked at the ceiling and bit her
lip.

“You must tell her, Addison.”

“
Definitely
not the past,” she said
after a moment. “That would’ve been hard to miss.” A sound much
like a groan came from her and she eyed him sideways. “Crap. Can I
whisper it?”

“He will still hear you—he
is
a
vampire.”

“Could you go away for a sec?” she asked
him.

He bristled at the comment. What would make
her so hesitant to speak in front of him? “Do you stake me?”

“Not even close.” A blush rose to her cheeks
and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Although, there
is
some penetration involved.”

He was determined to keep his expression
uncaring. He failed. By how much he would never know. Aching to
speak, he turned towards the oracle.

“Lying with her won’t access her power,
Vampire.”

Addison closed her eyes, probably so they
wouldn’t roll back in her head. “I think I got a faulty vision.
Seriously, that isn’t going to happen.”

“It is the path you are on right now, but as
I said, you can change it. Anyone can change it.”

“Yeah, well… I saw something else.” She
glanced at him with fear in her eyes. Of him? “Something…even worse
than the first one.”

“Tell me what it was,” he said. Did she see
what he
should
do? Remove her from the world before leaving
the catacombs?

“It was fuzzy.” She whipped her head towards
the oracle. “Does it being fuzzy mean anything? Like there’s just a
little
chance of it happening?”

“What did you see?” he asked.

“If I tell him then it’s like telling him the
future, right?” She spoke quickly, nervously, not looking at him.
“And that’s not allowed. Right?”

“Leave,” the old woman said to him. “Go back
to the entrance of the catacombs. She will find you when we have
finished.”

He was respectful of the oracle because that
was his role, but he would not be ordered from the room because a
lesser being desired it, regardless of how he felt about her. Not
if she knew something of her death, or something vital to their
world.

“Addison, tell me. Please.” The word he
hadn’t said in centuries came without warning. Because of her.
Because of her power over him. Because he was desperate to know if
she saw herself die by his hand. If she had, he could stop it from
happening.

For her. He cared about the life of a being
who could destroy them all.
No
. No, that couldn’t be. Her
blood may have changed him, but his will was still free, still
his
. He would never choose her over the Highworld. Never.
The mere idea was laughable. And fatal.

“Leave, Vampire!” The oracle’s voice shook
the lamp at her side. Still holding Addison’s eyes with his own, he
did as the old woman ordered.

With long, uneasy strides he paced the small
space where they’d arrived. His mind warred with itself. The oracle
had warned them of danger—if they were together
and
if they
separated. So which was the path he should follow?

Perhaps it was a question of timing. While it
was difficult to imagine, together they were strong and that
strength would aid them both. Then once Addison was dead, he would
return to normal, regain control over his thoughts and emotions.
Prior to her death, they would be stronger as a unit. Help each
other.

Help the enemy of our world and my
mind.
He considered each of their struggles—his to find the
failed assassin and hers to stay alive. Only one of them would
achieve their goal.

Since whoever wanted him dead still believed
he was, Rhyse was unable to investigate without his enemies knowing
he lived. Therefore, Addison would do it for him. In return, he
would teach her how to protect herself until she became a more
immediate threat. Teaching her how to shield her mind would help
her without making her more dangerous to him. In addition, a strong
shield was necessary for what he had planned.

And when the time was right, the moment she
became a true danger to the Highworld, her vision would come true.
He stopped and looked at his hands. When the time came, they would
be capable. They’d ended countless lives. However, his uncertainty
lay in knowing if, when the time came,
he
would be
capable.

A few days later, or what felt like it,
Addison had yet to get a straight answer out of the old lady. She
couldn’t think anymore, so knowing what to ask was impossible.

“What—?” She swallowed, realizing why it had
been so hard to find the right question—because she was terrified
of the answer she’d get. “This is bullshit. I’m not one of those
things. I have a mom. I’m a person.” Her voice cracked, but its
volume increased with every word. “I’m not—”

“Vitae!” The oracle glared at Addison…without
eyes. How was that even
possible
? “Because our races are
kin, I will allow you to return, but the next time you speak rather
than ask will be your last visit to the catacombs. Do you
understand?”