Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (38 page)

“We are here,” Herrick said as they pulled up
to a large, weathered barn. Addison got out of the car slowly,
looking for something she could hide behind if it came to that. But
the landscape was pretty barren, and Herrick seemed pretty
impatient, dragging her towards the building without even giving
her enough time to get her feet under her.

Inside the barn was hay, livestock, and a
fair number of witches and warlocks. Someone pressed the mute
button as soon as they saw her, and everyone stared like she was a
celebrity or a circus freak. This was probably their regular
hangout—they could just grab a goat to sacrifice whenever they
needed one. She better not be tonight’s goat.

In the center of the barn was a pot the size
of a small child.
Oh, no.
They couldn’t. A half-dozen thin,
red tubes with small clips at the ends of each hung down into it.
She tracked the tubes up to the ceiling where they merged and then
ran over to one side of the hayloft above. “What’s with the
tubes?”

“Part of the ritual. Would you like to
see?”

“Why not? I’m here to be bled anyway,
right?”

They climbed up to the loft space on a wooden
ladder that had seen better days. Addison had seen better days,
too. In fact,
all
her days had been better than this one.
The supers chained to the wall on the second floor would probably
say the same thing. She couldn’t see their faces, but she felt
them—heavy anger muddled with extreme fatigue, a bit of fear as
well. Probably from the more human of the bunch.

Squinting in the darkness, she asked, “What
are the supers for?”

“The dat vitae combine all the supernatural
races.” He motioned to the captives. “They and the coven’s magic
will create another.”

“How’d you figure all this out?”

He looked at her. “Our coven did it twenty
years ago.”

“Oh, right,” she said sighing. “Before they
all burned to death. Do you think history will repeat itself? First
the whole Salem thing, then—”

“Shall I continue?” He waited for her shrug.
“Once the being is created, it will be placed into a body.”

“Whose body?”

“A human’s.”

“And what do I do again?” When she felt her
blood-pen slide down a bit, she wrapped her arms around herself,
just under her breasts, to block it from falling all the way
out.

“When a
small
amount of your blood is
injected into the body of a new dat vitae, it will become more
powerful.”

“So the next one will be even more potent
than I am?”

He nodded. “All of them will be.”

All of them.
Oh, shit
. “How many are
we talking here?”

“You’ll see.”

Her breath caught when she heard Micah’s
voice in her head.

“
Get out of here, Addison. Now
.”

She didn’t want Herrick to know she had an
angel in her head, so she stopped herself from screaming or running
to look for Micah. “
I’d love to, but I’m gonna need a ride.
”
She saw a blur of white further down the line that could’ve been
him. “
So let me know when you’re ready to go
.”

His laugh was raw, pained. “
Your spirit is
strong, Vitae. I believe the prophecy will come to pass
.”

“
Ugh. Don’t talk to me about that stupid
prophecy. The more I hear about it, the more screwed up my life
gets.
”

Before she decided what to do or if there was
anything she
could
do, she needed to assess the situation.
The hayloft was wide enough to walk the length without tripping
over a bale of hay or any of the supers. Unfortunately, she
couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the feel of Herrick’s breath on
the back of her neck.

The first being she came to was a were in his
wolf form with a silver collar around his neck and a chain attached
to the wall. She wondered if the stress made it impossible for him
to shift or if this form made him stronger. Next was an absolutely
disgusting-looking demon who stood in a very small pentagram made
from white granules, undoubtedly salt.

Both of them had a tube attached to their
necks, a needle stuck into their carotids probably. The connection
had to be magical or the beings would have ripped them out. These
witches weren’t messing around.

Nasty
. “You’re going to bleed them
into that pot downstairs.”

“To create the dat vitae,” Herrick said, “the
blood of each race must mix and be taken into our magic.”

Next in line was a seer who had his knees
pulled into his chest and his head buried between them. His arms
wrapped around himself, cuffs on both wrists.

“How do you take blood into magic?” Addison
fucking hated these witches.

“We ingest it during the ritual.”

“Eww.” She grimaced and gagged but started
walking again. “Aren’t you worried about communicable
diseases?”

The seer’s head popped up. “Addison?”

“Logan!” As she ran forward, Herrick grabbed
her, digging his fingers into her arm. “Let me go!”

“You can’t touch him. I’m giving you a chance
none of the others would give you, Addison. Don’t blow it.”

She glanced at him and then back to her
friend. Logan still wore that awful champion outfit, which meant
he’d been here since the night of the Treaty fight. ‘
I’ll get
you out of this
,’ she mouthed to him. When he smiled sadly, she
had to turn away—his doubt would only strengthen hers.

She swallowed and moved on, her hands
trembling, her stomach twisted, and her teeth biting into her lip
to stop herself from crying. What had she been thinking? That she
could just talk the witches into doing the right thing? They’d kept
Logan chained up for
days
. They were going to drain their
captives’ blood to make something that needed a child’s body to
inhabit.

Crazy doesn’t blend with logic. Power-hungry
doesn’t blend with empathy or respect.

Next in line was the angel. Oh powers, the
angel. She didn’t know how Micah was bound, but whatever it was had
weakened him terribly. His wings were wilted, stained with blood
and dirt, his head hanging low.

“No more chances,” Herrick said when she took
a few steps forward.

“
Leave now, Addison. You don’t want to be
party to what will happen
.”

“
You need to get out more if you think
this is a party, Micah. After I get us out of here, I’ll take you
to a good one.
”

It was almost a smile that passed over his
face. A sad, painful smile. “
And how will you manage
that?
”

She had no idea. Release the demon? All she
would have to do was break the line a few times and he’d be free.
He certainly looked pissed off enough to do serious damage, despite
his weakness. Of course, once he was free, he might not be too
particular about who he killed.

“
Um
…” she thought to Micah. “
If I
get you free, could you take it from there? Help me fight off the
witches?
” She’d been living under the assumption that she could
kick a witch’s ass for a while now, and even though that had yet to
be proven, she was pretty confident about it. But not
all
of
them. Or
half
of them. Or more than one of them,
actually.

“
Perhaps a few, but we are all
weakened
.”

“
Just… Let me think on it.
” Logically,
she knew she wasn’t up to saving anyone. She had no skills to speak
of. The best thing she could do was go for help. But just getting
to civilization would take hours without a vehicle. She could say
she wanted to pick up some solstice snacks, but the witches
wouldn’t agree to hold off on their cool bloodletting party, not
with all the trouble they’d gone through to kidnap and bring her
here. She had to come up with something, the sooner the better for
everyone.

The witch looked none too happy—not a
surprising reaction to his peeps chaining him to a wall with the
intention of draining all the blood out of him. The mage sat
cross-legged on the ground, her eyes closed. It was more likely she
was trying to focus her power than meditating.

The witches’ work was impressive. A lower
race capturing and holding a member of every higher race didn’t
seem possible.

Shockingly, it took Addison until then to
realize they all wore champion outfits. An old-fashioned looking,
leather-accented target unknowingly put on them by their own
people. That sucked.

“So the whole who-let-the-demons-out thing at
the celebration was just a distraction, right?” They probably
hadn’t grabbed Logan and Micah
during
the fight because they
hadn’t dared to get close enough. “What, Herrick? No excuses or
denials or anything?”

“When you understand why we’re doing this,
you’ll thank me. And apologize.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

The last in the lineup was the vampire. He
also was the only one who looked undefeated, his head held high
even while his body slumped against the wall.

“Graham?”

He glared at her, probably assuming she’d
chosen to come instead of being forced like the rest of them. His
shirt was stained red and torn, almost as close to his heart as
Rhyse’s wound had been. And then one more piece slid into place.
Besides Graham, they all were officially designated the strongest
of their respective races. “The stronger the blood donor, the
stronger the dat vitae, right?”

“Yes,” Herrick said from just behind her.

That’s why the stake had missed Rhyse’s
heart. The witches intended to start a war, but not by setting the
high races against each other. If he hadn’t phased out, if Addison
hadn’t found him, Rhyse would’ve been standing right where Graham
was. She’d tasted his blood and knew it packed a punch. The witches
would’ve used Rhyse’s blood to make more like her.

When she saw a large crate in the corner,
heard the quiet weeping within it, she forgot everything else. Not
thinking, because she couldn’t think, she ran forward and pulled on
the lock. Through a small hole in the wood, she saw two beautiful,
terrified eyes looking up at her.

“I’ll get you out. It’s going to be
okay.”

Herrick spun her around and slapped her. The
blow stung, bringing a different sort of tear to her eyes. The
warlock backed away, tripping over his feet while staring in horror
at Addison’s mouth. She must have been bleeding.

“Oops.” Wincing, she wiped her mouth with
both hands, trying to smear her blood over as much of her as she
could. If he wanted to hit her again, he’d have to touch her.

Micah called her name. “
They are
coming.
”

She dug her fingers into the crate, not the
lock—she’d never get through metal. Wood splinters dug into her
hands and the beds of her nails, going deeper into her skin because
she didn’t stop. A large chunk of wood splintered, and the whole
side of the crate released.

The child must have been terrified, so
Addison was going to have to carry him or her. But she would get
them both out and then come back with help for Logan and the
others. She shoved the wood to the side, and—

Nooooo!

She’d been wrong. The witches weren’t going
to kill a child to make another dat vitae.

They were going to kill
five
of
them.

Five kids.
All of them six or seven
years old, huddled together, blinking at the change of light.
Addison couldn’t carry five kids. She couldn’t sneak out with five
kids.

“You need to come with me now.” She tried to
keep her voice as calm as possible, knowing if she screamed as
loudly as she wanted to, she’d terrify them and have the witches on
them even faster. “It’s okay. I’m going to take you home.” When she
reached for them, her body stopped, frozen.
No, no, no, no!
She had to get them out. Her mind was screaming for her muscles to
move, but they didn’t budge. No message was getting through.

“Let me go!” she screamed to witches she
couldn’t see because she couldn’t turn around because they
controlled her body. Again. “Run! Please, go!” The children were as
unmoving as she was, holding each other, staring at the supers who
were too weak to use their glamour. Before today, these kids only
had nightmares and dreams about things like them.

“The spell won’t last,” an elder witch said.
“Tie her up next to the vampire.”

Hands lifted Addison’s frozen body and
carried her towards the wall. “No! You can’t do this!”

“Stop,” the witch yelled. “What’s that?”
Addison couldn’t turn to see what everyone was looking at. “I told
you we couldn’t trust her. She’s been living among them for twenty
years.” The witch came to her, holding out the pen that must have
fallen out of Addison’s bra while she fought to free the children.
“What were you planning to do with this, Vitae?”

Fuck
. “Don’t do this. You can’t do
this to them.”

At exactly that moment, the crate was slammed
shut, and the children trapped inside whimpered, too afraid to even
cry.

“Let them go. Please,” she begged. “They’re
just children.
Human
children.”

Herrick looked at her nervously as the cuff
closed around her wrist. “In a few years, they’ll be ready for you
to lead them, Addison. Just as the prophecy says you will. Once
it’s done, you’ll understand.”

“Understand that you’re child murderers? I
don’t
want
to understand that. Use me. I don’t need anyone
else. I don’t even know
how
to lead, so they won’t do me any
good.”

“Quiet,” the old witch said, looking towards
the crate, one hand holding Addison’s lame attempt at a weapon and
her other clutching an amulet she wore around her neck. When their
whimpers stopped, the only sound left was Addison’s pleas for her
to stop.