Free Unseen (The Heights, Vol. 1) by Lauren Stewart

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,