Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (21 page)

If he had one.

—“and devotion stays true to the Treaty and
all who live within its wisdom.”

Voices rose
en masse
, arguments
breaking out in various areas of the room.

“Enough!” the vamp called, raising his hand
and his voice. “Tonight is not a time for disagreements. It is a
time to celebrate the peace the Treaty has created for us all.”

Except humans and seers, but she wasn’t
surprised he left those out.

“Why is the Prime not here?” the angel said
from inside the lines.

As the vamp prepared to speak, Addison leaned
forward. Because as soon as the guy said anything about Rhyse being
staked, she could leave.

“He recovers from a grave injustice done to
him.”

Oh, crap.
Well, that wasn’t helpful.
Rhyse wanted to know who’d taken control after trying to kill him,
but this guy
wasn’t
taking control.

“By whom?” the angel asked.

“He requested I not say on this night because
of his respect for the race the individual comes from.”

“Which race?” someone called out. Well, cross
seers off the list because the vamp said Rhyse
respected
this race.

“I cannot say. But he is recovering well and
sends his apologies for his absence.” Why would the guy claim Rhyse
was recovering? Why not tell everyone he was already dead? Or if
that would cause too much trouble tonight, why not at least keep
the news grim so when no one ever saw Rhyse again, it would be
easier to explain?

She needed a name. If nothing else, she had
to go back to Rhyse with a name. She searched the room for Micah,
but he wasn’t there. Crap. She closed her eyes, clicked her heels
together three times, said his name, and asked for help, not
knowing if she used her whole heart or not. If it meant that she
still might be breathing in a few days, her heart was probably in
it.

“
I hope this is an emergency.
”

She flinched when she heard Micah’s voice.
The seer closest to her backed away a bit as Addison looked around
frantically. Micah wasn’t there.

“M?” she asked quietly.

“
Yes
.” His voice was like a
hummingbird’s wings inside her head. Like a mutant, freaky
hummingbird who could
go
into people’s heads. But she hadn’t
felt the sting Rhyse said she would if an angel or demon went
beyond her shield. So the telepathy thing was probably a
first-floor-only deal. “
What is it, Addison
?”

“
I need your help.
” She felt his sigh
down to her toes, her body suddenly buttery, calm and relaxed. Her
hand on the chair rail behind her was the only thing that kept her
from melting onto the ground. She smiled to the seers on either
side of her, because they were looking at her like she was insane.
When that had no effect, she pointed to her head and mouthed,
‘angel.’ Still no reaction, so she moved on. “
Don’t sigh again,
M. That shit ain’t natural
.”

“
Hmm
…”

“
Sorry
.”

“
It is not your language that bothers me,
it is the timing of your call. I cannot come to you right now.
I’m…busy
.”

So much for angels always being there when
you needed them. “
No biggie. I’ll talk to you later. Signing off
now
.”

“
I wish you peace
.”

“
You, too
.” Then she stepped forward
slightly, closer to the female were in front of her. “Who is he to
speak for the Prime?” she whispered before jumping back and trying
to look docile. But Addison’s eyes stayed lowered so she couldn’t
see what the female was doing.

“Why did you do that?” the seer to her right
whispered after the were turned frontwards again. Addison had never
seen the woman before, and she didn’t look like she had a manual
labor job. All the seers here were probably toys on loan from the
boxes.

“I want to know who the vamp is,” Addison
whispered back.

“Shit like that is what gets people killed.
His name is—”

The female were’s voice rang high and true,
kind of like a howl actually. “Who speaks for the Prime?”

The vamp looked towards the voice, which also
meant that he could see Addison. Damn it. She was looking down so
hard her forehead was going to be on the floor any minute.

“My name is Graham. I am marshal for the
Prime.”

When the angel started speaking again, trying
to calm the crowd, Addison scooted closer to the seer who’d talked
to her. “Does he take over if something happens to the Prime?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Why do
you
know and why won’t you
tell me?”

Someone further down the line said, “Parker,
stop talking.”

And that was all it took to lock the woman’s
mouth down.
Damn it.
Addison would find her later. No one
knew much about the vamps hierarchy, evident by the easy prodding
it took to get the female were to ask who Graham was. But this seer
did. And Addison had lots more questions for her.

“I understand your concern for the vampire
king,” the angel said, “but it is time to introduce the champions.
Graham, you must enter the pentagram and stand for your master.”
Graham nodded, took a quick breath and stepped across the line,
barely flinching.

“We shall begin with the seer.” No name.

Oh, shit.
Addison scooted closer to
Parker to see through a thin opening in the crowd. Parker looked
annoyed but didn’t say anything as she gave up a little of her
floor space. Their viewing angle faced the wrong direction, so all
she saw were a lot of heads turning towards the door on the far
side. Somebody was coming in. Some unlucky bastard who was going to
die about two seconds into the show.

“Oh, no.” When she saw him, she fell back
against the wall, gripping the chair rail for support.

Logan
.

Holy shit, it was Logan. He looked resigned,
as if he already knew what was about to happen and had made his
peace with it. But it was Logan! Not just a faceless, unlucky
bastard. An unlucky bastard Addison knew and cared about.

Parker’s arm slipped around Addison’s waist,
holding her together. “Do you know him?”

Addison just nodded. A life in the box and
then this. Micah called it a great honor. She wondered what Logan
would say to that. He wore what looked to be breeches with leather
straps crisscrossing his bare chest. He was stunning and alone.

Beauty seems more important when you know
it’s about to disappear.

Parker put her hand over Addison’s mouth
before she could call out to him. With sad eyes, she shook her
head. “You can’t stop it.”

The angel moved on to the champions of the
other races, but Addison didn’t listen. She didn’t care. Why would
she? One of them would murder her friend, and gawking at them
wouldn’t change that. She stared at the ground, not because
protocol demanded it, but because with her head down, no one would
notice her tears.

“The angel,” the announcer called.

Parker cursed and pushed Addison’s head
further down. “Don’t look up.”

“What the hell?” She shrugged the woman’s
hand off. With a reaction like that, Addison
had
to look.
Had to know. Was Logan already dead? The fight hadn’t even
begun.

“Don’t—”

Now she knew why Micah had been busy. He
walked through the crowd, towering over most of them, even without
using his wings. But they were out and they were magnificent,
almost too beautiful to look at. He wore an outfit similar to
Logan’s, but he didn’t look resigned as Logan had. He looked
fearless, confident, and grief-stricken. He didn’t want to be here
any more than Logan did. Any more than Addison did. Yet here they
all were.

She called his name, asking with all her
heart for his help to stop this.

He spun towards where she stood. His lips
didn’t move, but she heard him. “
Not now, Addison, or I shall
regret telling you my name.
”

“
It won’t matter once you’re dead, will
it?
” She saw him close his eyes for a moment.

“
Please do not do this. It is hard enough
as it is.
”

She shouldn’t have called him. If he wasn’t
killed, he would end the night by killing. He deserved better.
“
I wish you peace, Micah.
”

“
And I you, Addison.
” He turned and
stepped into the pentagram, taking his place next to the angel who
stood in for the big guy.

“I saw you talking to him earlier,” Parker
whispered. “It seemed like he looked at you before he went through
the line. Was he in your head just now?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. That’s…incredible. Who are you?”

“Parker, shut up,” came another whisper.

Addison looked down the line of cowering
seers, heads lowered not out of respect or grief but out of fear.
When she spoke, it wasn’t a whisper or a shout. It was her
voice—human and sad and real. “I’m Addison.”

Parker slipped her hand into Addison’s and
squeezed it. They stood together, both knowing their lives could be
stripped away at any time from any direction, their bond built on
nothing but being human. Did it still count if Addison wasn’t?

When the vamp champion was called, Addison
heard Micah’s voice in her head. “
I did not know Lamere would
compete. What would you have me do?
”

She saw the vamp’s back as he entered the
pentagram, then his face when he turned around. That was Lamere? He
looked so young and soft, beyond gorgeous until she saw into his
eyes. Nothing could hide that much ugliness.

“
What would you have me do, Addison?
”
Micah asked again.

“
I don’t know—try not to die?
”

“
I know Lamere and what he’s capable of. I
ask not because I would spare him at my own expense. I ask
because…if you wish to see him punished for wrongs against you, I
will make his death slow
.”

“
Holy shit! You’re an angel?
”

“
Not for very much longer.
” He paused,
or maybe he went away, she couldn’t tell. But then he was back.
“
You don’t actually know Lamere, do you?
” When she didn’t
say anything,
he
did. “
Why are you really here, Addison?
What do you mean to do?
”

“
Nothing. I don’t want to do anything. I
just… Don’t die, Micah. And if you have to kill the seer, make it
quick. He’s…
” She looked up to keep her tears from spilling. It
almost worked. “
It should be quick.
”

“
Addison?
”

She couldn’t take anymore. She needed to
breathe, and that wasn’t going to happen here. Her dress was too
tight for her lungs to expand. Her necklace seemed to have
tightened around her throat at some point.

She pulled her hand from Parker’s and
shuffled down the wall towards the door. Parker tried to follow,
but someone stopped her. Someone knew her and cared about her,
while Addison was probably doing something that would get her
killed. Because she had no one to watch her back.

The one person who
might’ve
was going
to die any minute and Addison couldn’t do anything—not even tell
him that she was sorry that she didn’t have
his
back. That
she couldn’t protect him or save him or tell him he mattered and
would be remembered.

“
Addison.
”

“
Go away, Micah. Focus on winning. And
when you do…call me back.
”

He signed off in his usual way, but she
didn’t listen. It was absurd. Wishing her peace before going off to
kill other beings in an inescapable contest? She shoved seers out
of the way. A large group of witches was too absorbed by the main
event to notice her push through them on her way out the door.

When she was outside the ballroom and could
breathe again, all she felt was guilt. How many more breaths would
Logan have? He was going to die in a stupid ceremony over a stupid
treaty that gave his kind
nothing
.

She groaned when she heard someone call her
name. Was everyone she’d ever met at this fucking party?

“Is that you?” Dawn stood in front of a door,
probably a bathroom since she was still primping. She wore a dark
green floor-length dress that hugged curves Addison hadn’t known
she had. With her hair up, she looked almost ethereal. Although her
teardrop-shaped necklace looked more like something a little girl
might wear playing dress-up. Maybe there was a clove of garlic
inside of it.

“What are you doing here?” Dawn asked.

“What are
you
doing here?”

“I asked you first.”

As if Addison was in the mood for small talk.
“I’m a plus-one.”

“You? Not that they wouldn’t want you, but I
didn’t think you knew any supers. At least not the ones who
traveled in these circles.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Then skip to the end.”

She opened her mouth and promptly remembered
what Rhyse had said. Even though Dawn wouldn’t tell anyone
deliberately, she might say something accidentally or someone could
read her mind. So the less she knew, the less trouble she’d get
into.

“I can’t talk about it now. Who are
you
with?”

She squirmed.

“Dawn, believe me, it can’t possibly be worse
than who I’m here for.”

She looked to the ballroom door. “He’s a
warlock, but he’s really nice and treats me well.”

“Oh.” A warlock wasn’t that bad. They were
practically human, certainly less bloodthirsty than the higher
races. But they weren’t angels either, especially if one of their
rituals called for a sacrificial lamb that wasn’t actually a
lamb.

“Where were you going?” Dawn asked.

“Logan’s in there.” She flicked her head
towards his soon-to-be tomb.