Page 19 of Above Cursed Winds

A cry of anguish escaped from Gideon as the greenery stopped its sprawl over the ground. Jeremiah heard Rukia’s agonized cry in tandem with his own. He could do nothing to help the leader of his nation and his best friend.

Dread pitted in Jeremiah’s gut as Torrin rounded Gideon once more. The Elemental writhed weakly on the ground below him. With a look of disgust, Torrin kicked his hand away from the original wound that marred his gut, the blood now freely flowing into the gathering pool around him.

Hatred seated deep behind his gaze, Torrin dropped a knee into Gideon’s core as the weight of him came to rest on the stricken man. The earth Elemental jolted at the shock but made no sound—or perhaps he couldn’t.

“A life for a life, Gideon.”

The butt of Torrin’s gun rested on Gideon’s chest a second before it fired point blank.

Gideon stopped moving.

Everything in Zia revolted at the scene, her stomach twisting in knots as she fought the urge to retch. On instinct, the dagger she’d held to Jeremiah’s throat immediately vanished, her hand coming up to cover her mouth while she stared at him, wide-eyed.

It was no wonder why Jeremiah held a grudge. If Key and Nero had known about Gideon’s attempted assassination and never spoke of it, they were both guilty by association.

But now wasn’t the time, and Jeremiah’s anger was still a malevolent force that pressed upon her abilities like an anvil.

“You’re just like Gideon.” Words, spit like the venom they were, were directed solely at Nero. “Passive. A pushover. We should’ve run the Citizens into the ground years ago. With our power, no one could’ve stopped us.”

A sneer punctuated his final scathing remark, and then Jeremiah did the only honorable thing he’d done all day: he left.

Tension held them in their places while he made his retreat, and when he was finally a safe distance away, Zia slumped. A chuckle sounded behind her, the sound so foreign in this context.

“Any particular reason you wanted me to let myself get a face full of Jeremiah’s fist, Key?”

Pivoting, Zia scrutinized her sovereign, who was pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Blood steadily dripped to the floor, but the irksome man was smiling, his dark brown eyes full of affection for the Foreseer who’d ordained his pain.

“It needed to happen,” was Key’s only justification.

Nero only chuckled. “You’ll be the death of me, Key.”

“One can only hope, sovereign.”

His belly laugh resounded around his office as she approached him. Though either of them could’ve called the clan’s senior healer, Luna, there was no need. Zia’s mouth was set in a disapproving frown as she swatted his hand away to tend his injury.

“That man has a heck of a right hook,” came Nero’s conclusion. “He might even give you a run for your money, Zia.”

“Violence is almost never the answer, and he seems to court it like a well-propositioned lady of the night.”

“While that may be true, Jeremiah has reason behind his rage; you know it as well as I.”

“Yes, I saw it,” she admitted. “Did you know?”

Nero’s shoulders slumped, and Zia felt the remorse run through him as though it were her own. “I did not, but from what Key explained to me after the fact, it’s complicated. Regardless of what you might’ve seen, nothing could’ve been done to save Gideon that night.”

“But he’s alive and well.” Zia shook her head, bewildered. “Gideon survived that attack, even if its unexplainable. I don’t know why Jeremiah isn’t able to realize that. Sometimes, he speaks like Gideon is still dead. He’s always calling it ‘his death’ or ‘his assassination.’ I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it.”

“He’s alive, yes, but no one can deny that he should’ve been dead,” Nero explained. “Regardless of his miraculous recovery, Jeremiah still had to witness his attack and was unable to save him. Gideon went into the ground, everyone thought he was gone. They all expected Jeremiah to accept it, move on, and pick up the slack.

“That changes a man, and it certainly affected Jeremiah. His psychic signature changed that night, and you know as well as I what that means. He went into that hall as one person and emerged another.”

Chapter Ten

It didn’t take long for Jeremiah to find a place where he could vent his frustration. Every blow of his fists gradually reduced the fury burning inside of him, each grunt and growl that escaped him a soothing balm to his soul.

Chain link indented his skin, the abrasive metal biting deeply. The man opposite him spit blood, his crooked smile rust red with the aftermath of Jeremiah’s blows. And still, Jeremiah found it of no consequence against the mountain of grief he held inside.

Another volley, another exchange, another punishing series of blows to his torso.

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