Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) (8 page)

“That is why there can be no further delay.
If my flesh heals around a splinter of wood, it will be much harder
to remove, perhaps even impossible.”

Flesh
. Gross word. Always. Her hands
trembled as she grabbed his shirt on either edge of the hole and
ripped.
Oh, shit
. Amazing chest. Except for the horrifying
hole in it.

“Be right back.” In the bathroom mirror, she
saw the expression of terror on her face. Then she grabbed a towel
and splashed water on both. “You can do this. It’s not like you’re
gonna kill him. Think of it like you’re deboning a chicken.” She
had no idea how to debone a chicken…nor did she ever want to.

She pulled a chair over to the side of the
bed and wiped at the blood on his chest so she could see
better.

He flinched.

“Sorry.”

His brows came together in wonder.

She dabbed again, not looking at his face.
“Have you ever heard the story of the lion and the mouse?”

“Stories are for children. I have not been a
child for a very, very long time.”

“Yeah well, this one’s good for all ages. So
there’s this lion who’s the terror of the Serengeti or whatever,
and everyone’s terrified of him.” Once she’d wiped off the area,
she leaned closer to look inside the hole.
Eww
. “And he
catches a mouse. Now, a cute little mouse obviously isn’t enough
for the lion to eat, so maybe food is scarce or maybe he’s just
mean.” She put her finger on his skin a few inches away from the
wound and pulled it open.

“Anyway, the smart little mouse talks him out
of eating her—we’ll say it’s a female mouse ’cause it’s easier.”
She grimaced when she saw the wood. But it wasn’t just a
splinter—it was one huge splinter and a bunch of smaller ones, some
of which glimmered as if they were metallic. She grabbed the chunky
one and wiggled to dislodge it. “So a few days later, the lion
is crying in pain.”

He shuddered as she eased the splinter out.
“Like that?”

“Way worse. Hang on.” She smiled, holding it
up for him to see. “But don’t get too excited, because there are a
few more.”

“Then you will have time to finish your
tale.” He probably wasn’t even listening to the story, but was
distracted by the words. Hopefully, he’d get the point by
osmosis.

“Turned out, the lion had a splinter in his
toe.” She removed the shards one by one as she spoke, putting them
on the nightstand. Some were definitely silver. The wooden stake
had been pimped out to be as painful as possible in the millisecond
between puncturing the vamp’s heart and dusting. Somebody must
really not like him. The silver was also probably the thing that
slowed his healing.

She continued her story. “So, this cute
little mouse is the only one who will help the ferocious lion,
because he’s been a total jackass to everyone else. After the mouse
takes the splinter out, the lion is absolutely thrilled that he
didn’t eat her. So they lived happily ever after… and never saw
each other again.” She got as close as she could, checking to see
if she’d missed any. Nope. “All done.” She sat back and felt her
adrenaline turn down a few notches.

“Do you think I am an imbecile?”

“What?” she asked, her adrenaline going right
back up. “No, I mean it. At least, I can’t see any more in
there.”

“Not about that. You did well. I can feel the
difference already. I meant about your fable.”

“So you’ve heard it before?”

“Never. But I know a similar one. About a
scorpion. Have you heard it?”

She wished she could remove the sarcasm in
his voice as easily as she’d taken the wood from his chest.

“I can tell by your expression that you
have.”

The scorpion and the frog. Sure, she knew it.
Scorpion needed a ride across the river and promised the frog he
wouldn’t sting if he took him over. Scorpion stung frog and then
they both died tragically because the scorpion couldn’t stop what
was in his nature.

Bastard.
“Why’d you have to do that?”
she whined. “I just helped you and you thank me with another
threat. Do you even know how to speak without them?”

“There are two scorpion tales, Addison. Shall
I tell you the one to which I was referring?”

“If I don’t like it, can I shove one of these
back in?” she asked, glancing at the splinters.

“I would like to sit up.”

“You’re on your own there, scorpion.”

“And I repeat: you are a terrible host. It is
important you understand what I am. My story makes a more direct
point than your sad attempt at allegory.”

“I like allegory.”

“Do you like honesty as much? I am a vampire.
I became the Prime for a reason. I am nothing like your lion
because if a lion is badly injured by its enemy, it will run away.
I do not run away, nor do I let my enemies do so.”

“I wasn’t the one who staked you.”

“Of course you were not. You are too
weak.”

“‘Thanks,’ said the person who just saved
your life. Twice.”

“You are not the enemy I seek. When I find
them, I will successfully do to them what they tried and failed to
do to me.”

“Or they could try again and be successful
the second time.”

He almost laughed—the sound was there but not
the smile. “If you put a scorpion in the ring with a dog, which
walks out? Especially if that scorpion is immortal? It simply waits
until the dog gets close enough, maybe even until its body is in
its jaw. And then the scorpion stings. Over and over until the dog
is paralyzed. And again until the dog dies. Then the victorious
scorpion frees itself—regardless of how much of its body must be
left between the animal’s teeth. Because it knows it can regenerate
whatever it has lost. That is how I war. That is how I kill. And
that is how I conquer.”

“So…what you’re saying is you don’t like
dogs?” It just came out—she didn’t know why. Probably the ongoing
near-death experience she was having.

“What?” He paused in frustration. “I imagine
your kind would find that funny.”

“Some might…maybe. But I get it. You’re
badass, persistent, and deadly. And since I’m screwed no matter
what, I’ll make as many jokes as I can because they distract me
from how scared I am.” She stopped before she got all emotional and
had to explain why water was coming out of her eyes.

He studied her so intently, she almost felt
violated. She gathered up her supplies and backed up, holding the
pieces of wood out. “Do you want to keep these as souvenirs?”

“Do you wish to be turned, Addison?”

“Into a vampire? No way.”

“You have no desire for immortality?
Strength? Power?”

“It’s not worth the downside.”

“The way we feed.” He nodded. “I assure you,
it is quite pleasurable for both parties.”

“The parties I go to don’t include
manipulation and altering someone’s memories.” Although she didn’t
go to any of the
other
kind of parties, either.

“I will not alter your memories—it is
something you should remember.”

“Can we stop talking about this, please?” She
moved some clothes off a chair on the other side of the room, sat
down, and put her face in her hands. Was she just going to wait
until he healed? What if it took a week? Or more? She couldn’t take
the stress and uncertainty.

Kill him or feed him.
Two horrible
options.
Choose one
.

“How much do you need?” she asked with a
stiff jaw.

“Enough to satisfy my hunger.” Somehow he
knew exactly what she was talking about—probably because it was all
he ever thought about. Well,
that
and killing dogs.

“I hope your hunger is satisfied with a few
drops then.” She wasn’t going to give him more than that.

“Are you offering yourself to me,
Addison?”

“Just a little bit of me.” If he was fully
sated, he’d be strong enough to break the chains and take all he
wanted.

“Have you ever donated before?”

“Donated,” she muttered. “As if it’s
voluntary.”

“It is. The system requires it. We do not
force anyone. They come to us willingly.”

She scoffed. “Except for toys.”

“What are toys?”

Right, the deceptive vernacular of the high
races. “Toys—the seers in the boxes. I mean, the houses.”

“Ah, the diversions. They are provided for
and protected from harm.”

“Where do you get all your misinformation?”
she parodied. “My friend is a toy, and he’s constantly harmed.”

“And then healed by our blood.”

“Big fucking deal. Your blood can’t fix all
the damage.”

“I am sure he finds pleasure in his
relations.” He turned away, dismissing her. “Perhaps it is
something he is uncomfortable discussing with you.”

“He doesn’t have to. What you do to him is in
his eyes. Why do you think they try to bust out?”

“I was not aware they did. I do not visit the
houses.”

“Because the ‘diversions’ are brought to
you.”

He shook his head. “Humans are far too
fragile to be desirable bedmates for any worthwhile length of
time.”

“Tell that to Logan’s clients. You think they
even care? Every rogue seer comes from the boxes. Doesn’t that tell
you something?”

“Give me your wrist,” he growled. “I am no
longer interested in what a trash collector thinks.”

As if he would
ever
be interested.
“You need human blood. Humans need things, too. But why would
supers care about that?”

“You sound like a rogue.”

“I’m not.” Rogue was synonymous with dead.
And frankly the things she’d just expressed were not only
traitorous, but totally foreign to her. Even
thinking
about
politics was too dangerous.

“Your body creates the only true need I have.
Millions of your blood cells are made and die every second, but it
will take some time for you to replenish what I drink. Therefore,
although I owe you nothing, I will repay you with a gift only the
Prime can offer. Life. What you give me now, I will return to you
at a time when you need it. But only once, Addison, and you must
ask nicely. Perhaps while on your knees.”

“If I’m dying, I’ll probably be on my knees
anyway.” And she wouldn’t be feeling amorous. Could she trust him?
Did it matter? She’d never get a better offer, that was for
sure.

“Give me what I need so that I can make sure
you receive it.”

As soon as she pulled up her sleeve, his
fangs elongated, like she was a pig on a spit and just seeing her
vein made his mouth water. Speaking of spit…she needed to open a
vein she wouldn’t bleed out from. A vampire’s saliva could heal a
wound, but Addison wasn’t stupid enough to get that close. Nor did
she ever intend to be licked by a vampire. Gross.

“Remember: I’m helping you. There are plenty
of other people who’ll give you more later. But I am helping you
now.” She scored her forearm and cursed loudly. When her blood was
released, he inhaled and sighed. “I hope you appreciate this,
because that really hurts. Like the lion and the mouse. You owe
me.”

“You have not given me anything yet. Unless
you consider the silver burns gifts.” Both of them stared at her
arm, mesmerized by the growing trail of red, held together by
surface tension. “Addison, give it to me.”

Ugh
. “Okay.” She ran her hand down her
arm, milking the blood out, and held it over his mouth from about a
foot above. The first few drops landed on his chest, then his
cheek. His tongue slid out to reach them. Kind of hot in an awful
sort of way. The next drop hit his bottom lip and he groaned, the
sound from deep in his throat, almost like the growl of a lion. If
a lion’s growl was incredibly sexy and put wicked, inappropriate
ideas in your head. But she could handle this. He would get what he
needed, and she wouldn’t be out much.

Her blood fell in steady drops directly into
his mouth.

And then everything changed.

Hissing, Rhyse spat out her blood, his eyes
violent, glowing with rage. She stumbled back, not knowing if this
was a normal part of a feeding because she’d never actually
witnessed one. But regardless, he was
totally
lying about
the enjoyment factor. His body shook, convulsed, and one of the
thickest silver chains broke in half.

Oh, shit! This isn’t normal.
“Don’t
kill me! You promised!” A lot of good that would do.

“You are poison.” His body arched off the bed
and he threw his head from side to side. Then he went completely
still and turned to her, showing off pupils that were neither human
nor super. They were like a snake’s, and they were red.

“Run,” he growled, fighting to get the words
out. “Find sunlight. Now.”

“What’s happening?”
Besides me being a
goddamn deer! Move, you useless pile of—

“I may not be able to control what I do when
I catch you. Now, Addison!”

His shout knocked her into something
productive—fleeing. She wasn’t even out of the room when she heard
the second silver chain break.

‘
When’ he catches me?

He’d either been faking his weakness the
whole time, or all he needed was a couple drops of blood to go from
zero to sixty in five seconds. Those chains weren’t enough to hold
him down. He was too strong. Too old.
You idiot!
He’d just
needed time to repair himself, and she was his amusement while he
did it.

She threw the door open and took the stairs
two at a time. But the sun had already dropped behind the buildings
across the street.

No, no, no!
She ran, knowing it was
pointless. He’d catch up if he didn’t get distracted by someone
else first. Her pathetic human legs were no match for him. The
farther she ran, the more humans he would encounter, so by running
and being an idiot, she might get them killed, too. But she
couldn’t get her survival instinct to listen.