Rhyse called Logan into the library just after sunrise. “You should know I am incredibly irritable right now; therefore, anything you say will be taken personally and may very well cause a violent reaction.”
Logan stopped in the doorway. “Then I think I’ll go to another part of the house.”
“Wait.” Rhyse looked at the seer, the toy, uncomfortable with what he was about to ask, a request and not an order. Although if Logan said no, the violent reaction Rhyse spoke of earlier would indeed come to pass. “I must ask you to do something for me, for Addison, although she cannot know the idea came from me.” It pained Rhyse to know he would be incapable of doing what needed to be done in the future.
Her future, not his.
“I haven’t heard a question yet,” Logan said suspiciously.
“Would you—?” He paused. Requests and favors were too new to him, and he didn’t know how to phrase it. “In times to come, Addison will need someone near her, someone she can trust. Obviously, there are few she can.”
Logan opened his mouth but no sound came out, not even a verbalization of the disappointment so clearly stated in his eyes.
“You cannot leave her. She needs you.”
Logan’s shoulders slumped, probably as he realized he had no choice.
“I am…sorry,” Rhyse said. Sorry he’d reneged on his end of their bargain, sorry he would put Logan back into peril, sorry that this was the only way to keep her safe. That he couldn’t keep her safe.
“I bet that’s the first time you’ve ever said that word, isn’t it?”
“No, but it has been a few hundred years.”
“That’s something, I guess,” Logan mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “What do I have to do?”
“I do not know yet what your role will be. I was given only glimpses of what is to come. I will not be there to protect her, but I saw you standing at her side.” He bit back his curse, not knowing how literally he could take the vision. Was Logan a friend fighting alongside her, or was he by her side in the way Rhyse never wanted anyone else to be? That was his place. No one else’s. Ever.
Until he knew what it meant, until the future was determined, he had to make sure someone was beside her. And as much as it made him want to murder the seer where he stood, toss him against the wall and watch his blood drip down the stone, wasted, he couldn’t.
“I don’t have a choice here, do I?” Logan asked.
“I will teach you to shield so well that your mind will be impregnable, even to a wipe. I will provide for your every need. And eventually, when and if the danger to her passes, I will free you.”
“Fuck, you don’t…” He sat down hard and stared at the desk in front of him. “Nine wipes in seven years, Rhyse.”
“I understand your trepidation—it is not your fight. But neither was the fight at the Treaty celebration, yet we fought alongside each other as allies, not enemies. This is different, but your courage is not.”
“That wasn’t courage. That was fucking terror. You think I would turn my back on a demon?”
Rhyse shook his head. “Nor do I think you would turn your back on a friend. Not when you might be the only one who can keep her alive.”
“What about you?”
His exhalation was labored, even though he had no need to breathe. “In the vision, I was too far away to help her.” On the other side of the wall, the war, the rows of bodies, unable to cross the fire that blazed between them. What he’d seen would remain burned into his retinas, despised. A reminder of his inadequacy.
“Fuck,” Logan grumbled. “I don’t know. I care about her. I love her, but I can’t go back to that. The box and the—Fuck! ” The desk shook under his fist when it landed. “It’s going to take some time to teach me, right? For whichever direction I go in? I need to know how to shield when I help her, or when I run for it and live free for a couple days before you find me, or when you gut me for saying no. Sound about right?”
“Sounds exactly right.”
“Motherfucker.” He threw his hands up. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. If she’s really going to do this, then yeah, I’ll be there for her.”
Still unfamiliar with showing appreciation for the actions of others, Rhyse simply nodded. “Whatever is coming will not be easy for anyone in our world. In return for your help, I do not intend to send you back to the houses. Choose any career-path you wish, and I will make it happen. If there is anything else within my power to give, it is yours.”
“I have a—” He took a breath and looked Rhyse directly in the eyes. “One of my clients said she would get me out of the box and into the disposal program. Turns out she didn’t offer out of the kindness of her heart.” His laugh was bitter. “Actually wasn’t that surprising once I remembered she doesn’t have a heart. She did it because she doesn’t like to share—she enjoys me saying ‘no’ to her and her alone. Wants me at her disposal, if you know what I mean.”
Rhyse waited, uncertain what Logan desired.
“She says she’s in love with me. Obviously bullshit, because vamps are incapable of love. At least, I thought they were.” The seer swallowed. “Until I saw you and Add together. Do you? Do you love Addison?”
“I…” Did he love her? A small word that when spoken had enormous consequences. Especially now. He suddenly thought of an equally important word: Yes.
Yes, he loved her. “That is something she and I have not discussed; therefore, it would be wrong to talk to you about it first. What I can tell you is that I care for her a great deal and will never deliberately do anything to hurt her.” He nodded to the scars on Logan’s neck, the ones Addison had told him about. “However, you are wise not to believe your client feels the same about you.”
“She’s my price. I help Addison, but I want that vamp bitch to pay for every drop of blood she took, from every—” He shifted uncomfortably, holding himself together by force of will alone. The man had lived a hundred years in only twenty-five, and in that moment, Rhyse committed himself to lessening Logan’s burden. Because whatever the seer had seen or felt, whatever had been taken out of his memory, were things Rhyse was ultimately responsible for.
Rhyse nodded. “How painful do you want it to be?”
“Very, very painful.” His voice was deep and filled with a quiet rage. “But I want to be the one to do it, when I’m ready.”
It was a just request—the vampire had seriously abused a being outside of her race. According to Treaty law she should be punished, and Rhyse would allow Logan to carry it out.
Additionally, Rhyse would investigate the ‘boxes’ and prosecute anyone who broke the law and any house mother who allowed it to happen.
Rhyse had become apathetic, believing the system worked because no one was complaining. How easy it was to forget those who couldn’t complain, not to him. Even if they could, in his arrogance, he wouldn’t have listened. This and many other things would change, but he had to move slowly. In an inflexible world led by immortal beings, quick action often had unintended consequences.
Of course, if he were to act directly against the Treaty and his oath to it, he would be unable to help Addison or their world.
He went upstairs, giving Logan some time to himself, understanding the need because he’d so recently felt it. Addison had chosen to sleep on the side he normally occupied, or perhaps she’d moved there over the course of the night.
As soon as he slipped under the blankets, she pressed into him, wiggling until her body was curled into his. He pulled back the hair covering her face and looked at her for a moment, before putting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes.
While he may not be able to stand beside her in the times to come, he would sleep beside her.
Sixty-four
It was already close to noon when Addison went to the library, knowing that if Rhyse wasn’t in bed with her, he would be there. He seemed most at peace in front of the fire—either in the library or in their bedroom. He motioned her over to the chaise and place
d her between his thighs.
“I miss you when you are not near me.”
She leaned back against him, watching the flames. They were both silent for a while, but it was a comfortable silence, a satisfying one. Nothing existed but the strength of his body behind her, the softness of the couch under her, and the heat from the fire in front of her. Pretty much the best place she’d ever been.
“Has Logan’s head exploded yet?” she asked.
“Not yet.” He wrapped his arms a little more tightly around her, as if he expected her to disappear any second. “I will put more restrictions in place for the houses, Addison. No one should be wiping minds without approval.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “You should go to one of them and see what they’re like with your own eyes.” Once Rhyse understood what was happening, he wouldn’t walk away. He hadn’t walked away from her, even after all the grief she’d caused him. And would probably continue to cause him. Once he saw a view of the Heights from closer to the bottom, he’d come around. “You know, look but don’t touch. Ask questions.”
“I intend to, my love. I intend to.”
She tensed in his arms. “What did you say?”
His lips brushed her ear as he chuckled. “I said that I intend to. Twice, I believe.”
“What was the…ah…the other thing?” She wanted to look at him but couldn’t. Because if she’d misheard or he’d said it accidentally, she’d turn bright red and he’d know.
“Hmm…the other thing. I am not sure I remember.” Okay, no big deal—he’d misspoken. She misspoke all the fucking time.
Actually, he probably called all his lovers ‘my love’ because it was basically the same word—just one less letter. When he nuzzled her neck, she tilted her head to give him better access. Exposing her neck to a vampire was about as idiotic as falling in love with one. And here she was doing both.
His lips moved to her ear. “Are you perhaps thinking of when I told you I love you?”
“You didn’t say that.” And she didn’t want him to. Lie. As much as she feared it, hell yeah, she wanted him to. Of course, she’d also thought that would happen around the same time she got her old life back—never.
“Did I not? Well then…” His whisper floated to her. “I love you.”
“Fuck. Off.”
He flinched. “While I confess my ignorance, I do not believe that is the normal response.”
Not now. Not ever. It was one thing to want him to feel the way she did, but totally different to know he did. Especially with all that had happened and with all that would happen.
No, he was confused and once they cleared it up, he’d take it back.
She flipped around to face him, her knees where her butt had been. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?”
“Because…because…” Damn words. Damn vocal cords. Damn—
He kissed her, one hand at her neck and the other on her jaw, holding her still until he decided to let her go. “The correct response is either: ‘thank you’ or the far more preferable: ‘I love you, too.’ ‘Fuck off’ is not a suitable option. Therefore, I would like to try it again. Are you ready?”
“I’m not sure.”
“‘Thank you’ or ‘I love you, too.’ Pick one and say it.”
She nodded. It was kind of like pulling petals out of a daisy and saying ‘He loves me, he loves me not.’ Except he’d already picked the last petal and now it was her turn. But the metaphor still held true, because even though she knew which one she was going to end up with, she didn’t know which one she’d be able to say. Of course she loved him, but admitting it was entirely different.
It was too early—they hadn’t even known each other that long. And most of that time she’d been hoping he would die and he’d been planning to kill her. So, she was pretty sure that made love something that shouldn’t be brought up for another couple of months…or years. Possibly decades. Who knew what was next for either of them?
She’d never been in love, so maybe what she was feeling was shock or a hex or something, and maybe he was delusional.
“Why?” she blurted.
“‘Why’ is not one of the options, either. And I believe I was to start.”
“Why ‘love’? Couldn’t it be something else, like, an eventually-it-might-be-possible-but-we-should-give-it-time-and-think-about-it-a-little-more kind of thing?”
He let go of her and fidgeted. Oh powers, the vamp fidgeted. “Say ‘thank you’ and be done with it.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. Rhyse, that’s not what I meant! I’m just worried we’re moving too fast.” Not something she would’ve thought would be common in immortal beings, but there was a lot she didn’t know. He’d just made a mistake, confused love with a temporary crush-and-lust kind of thing. “When was the last time you were in love?”
“Right now. There has never been another time.” In his entire life and afterlife he’d never loved anyone?
“Well…well, that’s not good.”
“It is neither good nor bad. I am in love now and am content to be so.” He paused. “Whether or not you return my affections.”
She did. That was the problem. But being afraid of it and not believing it weren’t the same thing. Sure, it was totally inconvenient and made everything ten times more complicated, but was there any legitimate reason not to admit it? A cost she wasn’t seeing?
No.
She looked into his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I love you, too.”
He froze for a moment. Then another. Then long enough to make her worry. And then the corners of his mouth curled, little by little, until he wore the largest and most beautiful smile she’d ever seen on anyone. It was a surprise, but not nearly as surprising as what he said next.
“Fuck. Off.”
He took her mouth and didn’t let go, leaning into her until she was horizontal. The movement continued until her back pressed against the rug and his body pressed on hers. He peeled her clothes off slowly, cursing under his breath when something proved more difficult to remove. She raised herself up to help him undress. It was a struggle to hold each other’s lips and get his pants off, but they did it.
He wrapped his arm around and lowered them back down. Slowly he entered her, so careful, so…loving. A single admission changed them, making everything better and more meaningful.
“Say it again,” he whispered, thrusting deeply.
“Fuck off.” She laughed until he silenced her with another thrust.
“It is a good thing you are worth all the trouble, Vitae.”
“I love you.” Moaned and promised by both of them as they came. Together.
Sixty-five
Addison stared at herself in the bathroom mirror for a really long time, arguing with her reflection. Silently, of course, because the alternative would prove how crazy she was. Not to mention that Rhyse would hear and then there’d be an even bigger argument.
That stupid vision and the oracle’s crazy rambling about it being her time hadn’t made any sense back then. Unfortunately, now it did. The witches were onto something. If they’d been just a little less psychotically deluded, their plan might have worked.
A complete flip of power. Addison didn’t need that, the seers didn’t need that. All they wanted was freedom and the right to choose whether or not they wanted to be part of the Heights. And maybe get more vacation time and sick days.
She jumped when she heard her phone ring. Holding onto the blanket wrapped around her, she hurried to pick it up before the ringtone woke up Rhyse. He was face down on the bed, one arm on her pillow, right where she’d left him.
He had a seriously nice ass.
She didn’t recognize the number, but it was a San Francisco area code. These roaming charges were going to clean her out.
“Hello,” she said quietly. Rhyse rolled over and lifted his head. He seemed to be getting really good at sleeping. And eating. And her.
“Is this Addison?” a woman
asked.
“Hang on.” She made an okay sign to Rhyse and then covered the phone. “Don’t listen. It’s rude.”
“Do not make any plans for this evening,” he said, closing his eyes. “Or any other.”
Things were getting weirder and weirder. Not that long ago, her life had been semi-normal. Then she almost died a few times, and now she was shacking up with the being she’d tried to kill and who’d wanted to kill her. Who knew what was going to happen tomorrow?
“Who is this?” she asked after she shut the door behind her and went downstairs.
“It’s Parker. We met—”
“I remember. How are you doing?”
“Better. They want me back at work tomorrow.”
“Oh. That…” Sucks.
“Can you talk right now? In private.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you hear that the entire San Francisco witch coven died in a fire? Again.” Sure she had, just like she could hear the subtext in Parker’s voice.
“Yeah.” Had she even spoken an entire sentence? Rhyse was all the way upstairs behind a closed door but, if he chose to listen, he could. “Totally crazy. Do you want to meet?”
“Yeah.”
“Just you though, right?”
“For now. But…I know others who will want to be involved if you can do this.”
“You mean, if we can do this.”
“There’s only one leader in the prophecy, Addison.”
“Prophecies are bullshit. We make our own futures, and I can’t do this alone.”
“There’s just one thing…” Parker paused. “It’s awkward.”
“So is this uncomfortable silence. Just spit it out.”
“I don’t mean to be a dick, but are you still with the Prime? I mean, is that part of your plan?”
Part of her plan. Was he? “No.”
And that was the moment. The moment Addison realized Logan had been right—people would know and they wouldn’t trust her. She couldn’t climb out of Rhyse’s bed every morning and expect people to work with or listen to or believe in her. They would never be free without her or someone like her, and how many people were unlucky enough to be like her?
Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) Page 33
