Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (36 page)

“I guess I could—”

“I don’t care. Just go.” She closed her fist
around the napkin Dawn had written the address on, and left.

I can kick a witch’s ass. I can kick a
witch’s ass. I can kick a witch’s ass.

Addison was so screwed.

The tremors in her hands made it impossible
to dial Rhyse’s number. But damn it, she’d give anything to hear
him yell at her. He’d send someone to pick her up and she could
explain what happened in person. And in safety. She wouldn’t let
him leave until he promised no one would hurt the child. Hopefully
by then, this goddamn shaking would’ve stopped.

If the witches wanted her to be there for
their ritual, they might send someone more effectual than Dawn, so
Addison couldn’t go back to her apartment. She needed to hide
somewhere closer to calm down and plan out exactly what to say to
Rhyse.

Mom’s
. Brilliant, considering she was
basically standing in front of it. She’d be safe at her mom’s until
Rhyse sent someone for her. Probably. She shoved her phone back
into her pocket, glanced around for any creepy witch eyes, and ran
through the facility’s front door.

“Addison, good to see you.”

She spun towards the voice before the words
made sense. Grace looked as shocked as Addison
felt
.

“Whoa,” the nurse said. “Is everything
okay?”

“Bad day. Sorry.” She relaxed her shoulders.
“I’m moving out of the city, so as soon as I find a new place for
my mom, I’ll be checking her out.”

“That’s too bad. We’ll be sad to see her go,
but the move is a good thing, right?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie—not being killed
was
a good thing. “How is she today?”

“It’s a good day for her. She’s talking more
than usual.” Which was code for: she was making a bit more sense
than she normally did.

“Great. I’m…” She pointed down the hall and
started walking with a quick, over-the-shoulder wave to Grace. Her
mom was sitting by the window, staring outside. “Hey, Mom. How are
you feeling?” She sat on the bed, trying to appear calm while in
full-blown eruption mode.

“Why are you here?” her mom asked without
turning.

“I wanted to check in and talk to you about
something, but I can’t stay long.” She had to call a vampire and
beg him to come rescue her.

“Of course you can’t. Today is the solstice
and the Black Sun.”

“You’re right.” This
was
a good day
for her mom. Smiling, Addison scooted across the bed, hanging her
legs over the side. “How did you know that?”

“It was the wrong choice.”

“I know.” Addison sighed. Her mom wasn’t
trying to hurt her, and it was nothing Addison didn’t deserve, but
those five words gave her horrible flashbacks of her mom’s face
right after the wipe. “I’m sorry.”

Her mom turned towards her. “You have nothing
to feel sorry about—you were a perfect child. Why haven’t they come
for you yet?”

The comment probably meant nothing, but it
stopped Addison’s breath anyway. “Why haven’t
who
come for
me?”

“The witches, honey.”

On any other day, Addison would’ve said
witches didn’t exist, hoping it would somehow repair the damage of
the last wipe. But not today. She knelt down. “What do you know
about witches?”

“Just what your father told me.”

“He…”

“Was a warlock. Of course, honey. Just as you
would’ve been a witch, if you hadn’t died.”

“I’m not dead. I’m right here.”

“I know.” She patted Addison’s head. “Because
he got them to bring you back.”

“The angels?” Wishful thinking. Useless
wishful thinking.

“No, Addison. The witches.” Her voice was
stern. “You need to listen better.”

“Sorry. Why did the witches give me
back?”

“They
brought
you back. But they
didn’t want to give you back to us, so your father had to take you
from them. But…it was the wrong choice.”

“You chose me?
I
was the wrong
choice?”

“What are you talking about, honey?” She
shook her head impatiently, as if everything was obvious, simple,
something Addison should be able to follow and understand. But boy,
was
that
not happening. “Your father asked them to heal you.
He died, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” He saved Addison’s life by
getting her out of a burning building, but he couldn’t get himself
out in time. Dying over a kid who wasn’t really his kid. “What was
the choice?”

“How many times do I need to repeat this,
Addison?”

Just the one time would work,
actually.
“Sorry. I just forgot. Can you tell me one more
time?”

“You really do need to learn how to listen
better,” she said, shaking her head. “When we knew you were going
to die, he took you to them.” His life for hers. “But those witches
are sneaky. They put someone else in your body.” A look of pain
crossed her face. “When he brought you home…”

“What happened when he brought me home?”

“He was hurt trying to get you out. They
wanted to keep you, but he wouldn’t let them. He fought for you.”
Her hand petted the air as if she were reliving the moment, her
husband’s head in her lap. Probably as he died. “He was a good man,
your father, but bringing you to them was a mistake. Because I lost
both of you. And I’m going to lose you again when they come for
you.”

Well,
that
sure didn’t sound good.
“Why would the witches come for me?” As much as she wanted to
scream, it would only make her mom shut down or get confused. She
kept her voice calm and spoke slowly, trying to keep her questions
simple enough to follow.

“Because it’s your time, Addison.”

“What does that mean? My time for what?”

“What you were made for. They’ll come because
it’s time for the Rising to begin.” The volume of her voice
dropped. “But don’t trust everything they say. They lie.”

“About the Rising? I’m still a little vague
as to what exactly it is. How do you know I’m involved?”

“Because it’s your time.”

Addison was beginning to hate that phrase as
much as she hated—

“It was the wrong choice.” She looked
straight into Addison’s eyes and, for a second, Addison saw who her
mom used to be, how beautiful and brave and smart she’d been.
Before Addison ruined her.

“He should’ve stayed home with us,” her mom
said. “With you and me. But he was so angry at them for what they
did to you. He went back to kill them, but he also killed himself.
Magic must always be in balance, Addison. Your father forgot that,
so he made the wrong choice. He chose to hate
them
more than
he
loved
us.”

He
made the wrong choice. “Dad
did?”

“He chose hate instead of love.” The nod of
her head turned into a shake. “Don’t ever choose hate over love,
honey. It will kill you.”

“I… I won’t.” Addison felt herself weaken. It
was the wrong choice—hate over love. Every single time she’d heard
the phrase had been another wound, until every part of her body was
bloodied by the choice she’d made, by how she screwed up. The
screw-up would always be hers, but knowing it wasn’t something her
mom thought of every day, multiple times per day, released some of
Addison’s pain. She still had a lot of shit to redeem herself for,
but at least she’d be trying to do it with less weight on her
back.

“Wrong choice.”

“Mom?”

“Wrong.” Unfortunately, while Addison found
clarity, her mom disappeared back into wherever she lived most of
the time. In a mind filled with bad decisions, regrets, lost love,
and monsters. There had to be a way out, and Addison had to find
it.

After a few more attempts at getting through,
she gave up and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon.
Okay?”

“It was the wrong choice,” her mom mumbled as
Addison left.

At the front desk, Addison asked if there was
a room she could rest in, someplace dark because she was getting a
migraine. It was true—her head was awfully close to exploding, and
that was how a migraine felt, right? The woman took pity on
her—probably because she looked so fucking pitiful—and pointed her
towards an empty room at the end of the hall.

Without even having to focus, Addison sensed
them. Witches with their power all the way turned up. Unless they
had family here, her guess was the party invite hadn’t been
optional.

She ducked into her mom’s room and spoke
quietly. “Hey, Mom, we need to go somewhere now. Just down the hall
a little bit.” Their fingers intertwined, Addison led her to the
room the nurse had told her about, closing the door and locking
it.

“Someone is coming to help us, okay? He’s
totally nice even though he looks a little surly in a really
handsome way. But don’t be afraid. His name is Rhyse, and I have a
lot of confusing feelings about him. But he’s really brave and
strong, and he’ll help you because I think he has a lot of
confusing feelings about me, too. Okay?”

She cursed when she heard scuffling in the
lobby and Grace’s raised voice cut off midsentence.
Oh,
no.

Witches weren’t normally violent, but
evidently they made exceptions during eclipses or solstices or
parties or basically anything having to do with Addison. Accident
or not, she’d led them here and she was the only one who could lure
them away before anyone got hurt. The only way to stop the witches
from using her mom and the others as leverage was to volunteer
first.

And if a bunch of demons were waiting to grab
them right outside the door, Addison would consider the day
successful. So she called Rhyse. It rang. And rang. And rang. And
was never answered.

Where was he? If he’d sent someone to pick
her up at her apartment, he already knew she wasn’t there, so
someone must be out looking for her, while Rhyse stayed busy by
freaking out, pacing, and planning how he was going to punish her
for her disobedience as soon as the sun went down. So where the
hell was he and why wasn’t he picking up his goddamn phone?

Addison was on her own to save herself, her
mom, everyone in the facility, and the poor kid whose body the
witches were planning to use. And she’d never felt
less
competent in her entire life. Great, fucking superpower didn’t do
anything but invite more danger until somebody opened a vein.

She turned to her mom. “Stay in here until
Rhyse or someone who works here comes for you. Don’t leave with
anyone else, okay?” She texted him the location and hoped he knew
what a text was. Then she called him one more time, let it go to
voicemail, and tucked the phone in her pocket. If things got too
weird or awful, she could call Micah with her whole damn heart.
Between a vamp and an angel, she’d be fine.

But because she had trust issues, she went
through all the drawers and cabinets in the room, looking for a
weapon. She picked up the mightiest thing she found—a pen—and a
nail sticking out of the drawer scratched a deep groove into her
arm.

“Oww, damn it!” She was bleeding.
Everywhere.

For once, maybe she could turn her terrible
luck into something useful. Instead of whining and putting pressure
on the wound like she normally would have done, she asked her mom
to take the pen apart while she turned her back and used the nail
to expand the scrape into something that would really bleed without
being dangerous. She’d worry about tetanus later.

“Thanks.” Addison took the pen back and used
it as a receptacle for her blood, closing it on both ends. There
wasn’t very much, but Rhyse only had a few drops and look what had
happened to him. She tucked the pen into her bra, hoping she never
had to see if it worked or not.

If she went willingly, maybe the witches
wouldn’t hurt anyone...else. Because, of course, witches were
sneaky and could have every intention of hurting the token dat
vitae.

But since she couldn’t do a thing about it,
with a fucking happy face and a mind full of dread, she went to go
party with the witches.

Three of them—one warlock and two
witches—stood in the center of the lobby. Maybe Dawn told them
where Addison would be or maybe they’d used a divining spell or
maybe they just knew how few places Addison had to go. She smiled
as she walked towards them. They glared back, edgy and mumbling
nervously.

When her feet stopped, as if they’d been
super-glued to the floor, she flailed her arms to stop herself from
falling on her face. Then a tingling sensation moved up both legs,
through her torso and down her arms, immobilizing her completely.
As if from the neck down, all her bones had been fused.

“Let me go!” she called. “I was coming to you
guys!” she said.

The warlock shook his head, waiting for two
of the facility’s staff members to pass by before all three supers
came towards her. In fact, everyone was wandering around as if it
was just another day and Addison wasn’t being kidnapped. She was
glad they were safe, but not as glad as she would’ve been if
she
was safe too.

“Are you Herrick?” she called to the
warlock.

He nodded.

“Well, Herrick, listen. I’m in a shitty mood,
made only shittier by the fact that I can’t move my body.
Especially because I was really looking forward to doing a little
dancing at that party you guys are having. There’s gonna be music,
right?”

Since the dat vitae thing was new to everyone
born in the last couple centuries, they were probably at as much of
a loss as she’d been. And
was
. So, like she’d had with Dawn,
Addison might have some room to stretch the facts. As long as she
did it at the right time and in the right way.

“You were coming to us?” His voice was cold,
almost robotic.

“Duh, yeah. I was just about to head
over.”