Page 33 of Above Cursed Winds

A sudden loud alert had his attention snapping toward his phone. The Elemental retreated, shifting to look at the device enough that she glimpsed the caller. Jeremiah scowled.

“Who’s that?”

Breathless, Zia refocused on the food in front of her, trying to will down the heat that’d burst under her skin. She swallowed another bite as she battled against the sudden flush in her cheeks.

“No one of importance.”

Letting the phone fall back against the counter, he speared another bite of breakfast potatoes and chewed angrily.

“I think Gideon might take offense to that. I vaguely recall him being something like the Elemental monarch. What did he do to make you so upset?”

Beside her, the Elemental stiffened, sucking in a breath before dropping his fork. “Gideon didn’t do anything. And neither did I.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jeremiah looked at his food with contempt, grinding his teeth. He sighed and thought about what he’d disclosed to Zia.

It was the truth: he hadn’t done anything. Jeremiah has watched as Gideon died, unable to save him. His friend wasn’t at fault; he’d merely been a victim, albeit not an unwilling one.

Gideon had stepped up to the plate and offered his life like it hadn’t mattered, remaining still as Torrin tormented him, even as the enemy raised the gun and aimed the fatal shot. Gideon’s obstinate need to protect the innocents had required him to continue ‘healing’ the dam until he died.

Jeremiah jolted when Zia’s hand gently traced a path along his spine. Though he stiffened, she didn’t drop her hand or cringe away. The Raeth continued her soothing ministration, as though she couldn’t help but console him. Each delicate touch along his spine had his heart kicking beneath his breastbone, a yearning beginning in his gut. He longed to lean into her caress, to take comfort in each deliberate stroke.

The sound of feet bouncing down the stairs gave him an excuse to shrug off the emotions currently hitting him hard in the face.

“Morning, little man.”

“Jeremiah, you’re still here!” Eyes dancing with happiness, Myko skidded around the corner. “And you made food!”

Chuckling, Jeremiah eased off the stool while Myko climbed up. “Buckle up, kiddo. You’re getting the King treatment today.”

***

Three hours later, Jeremiah’s fingers flew over the computer keyboard, tightening up security and upgrading every system associated with the clan’s network and the closed network that held the Accords information.

Zia had helped him log in but had begun running through the updated security protocols with the other clan’s lieutenants shortly after. It was just as well—he needed to research her digital footprint without her breathing down his neck.

With her blessing, he’d begun looking through her files for any sign of the culprit. What he hadn’t disclosed was that he was examining every piece of content on her computer for signs that she might be it. As much as the thought turned his stomach and his instincts screamed against it, he couldn’t afford to cross her name off the list yet.

From everything he’d seen so far, she was committed to her clan—not someone who’d willingly hand over confidential information to an enemy. Now that he had the name of Myko’s father, he scoured her files for references to the man. Very little returned on that front, so he searched for any sign of blackmail. Again, he came up empty, but his research had broadened his understanding of both Zia and her clan.

He reacted so viscerally to Zia’s touch this morning, and it had only left him wanting more. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous, so enticing he’d be snared hook, line, and sinker if he allowed himself to go there. Knowing that her heart was pure gold was a heady sensation.

After he’d upgraded their security, he reviewed recorded footage from the dome. It was his attempt to figure out why the cameras hadn’t tracked anyone arriving or leaving the night of the crime.

While dissecting the footage with a fine-tooth comb, Jeremiah spotted a barely perceptible blip, a pause in the footage. Just after the blip, the moonlight’s shadows had marginally migrated across the floor, indicating a small amount of time had been erased from the recording. Not ten minutes later, a similar blip was recorded again.

Teeth grating together, he locked the computer and went in search of the sovereign he’d recently decked.

“Jeremiah!”

Nero’s cheerful grin welcomed him into his office, no signs of offense or grudges present. Jeremiah collapsed into the same chair he’d taken on the earlier visit.

“No hard feelings, then?”

“If I held a grudge against everyone who’s ever punched me, I’d hate everyone.” Nero chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Zia said you ruined a perfectly good condo.”

“I’m fairly sure an evil toilet spirit was the cause of that disaster.”

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