Page 69 of Above Cursed Winds

Nero, his sienna-brown eyes shadowed with strain, had glanced at Jeremiah more than once since they’d begun their discussion. The Elemental could only guess at the sovereign’s intent.

Before long, Jeremiah’s need to pace got the better of him. Sehrin straightened as he passed, but made no further movement, dipping his head back to the book he’d teleported into his hands out of thin air.

Jeremiah retreated toward the pool table he knew was near Nero’s offices. Though his element occasionally—ahem—assisted, he was a rather proficient player anyway and enjoyed the game.

Perhaps he’d teach Myko how to shoot pool in the days to come.

Footsteps echoing against the white-washed halls, he entered the cavernous space lined with lounge chairs and bookcases. He glanced toward the coffee pot sitting empty on the western wall. While it was nearing mid-day, he’d be remiss if he didn’t—

Blinding pain ricocheted up his spine as an unseen force rammed into him from behind. Sent careening into the marble flooring, Jeremiah crashed facedown, his cheekbone cracking on impact.

Hating his vulnerable position, he adeptly flipped to his back using his element as leverage. Vision clearing, he saw a form leaping on top of him. He recognized her instantly.

“Rona!”

But the vampire didn’t speak, her shadowed eyes ice blue—a supernatural warning sign that heralded her attack and cautioned of darker intent. Caught off guard, Jeremiah froze, and that brief moment of hesitation cost him.

Taking advantage of his hesitation, Rona’s hand cinched around his neck, the other capturing his right hand. With a booted heel, she trapped his other hand against the floor. Hers was an unforgiving strength.

Jeremiah was pinned, completely at her mercy.

Choking as her grip tightened, he sputtered, “Rona—stop!”

As her fangs sharpened and any sense of reason abandoned her hooded gaze, the first tremor of fear iced through him. Beneath his breastbone, his heart thudded anxiously, and the siren song of his blood loosened any last tendril of restraint in the vampire.

Rippling pain pierced his neck only moments later as her canines penetrated his carotid. Jolting, Jeremiah struggled beneath her bruising grip, but the older immortal restraining him was far more powerful than he was. But this was Rona, his friend, and Gideon’s soul mate.

Why was she attacking him?

As the question surged into his mind, the answer died on his tongue. Rona had deliberately cut off his air supply, vital to a wind Elemental, and her restraint was so tight it’d begun to crush the joints in his wrists. Greedy pulls on the artery alerted him to her feeding, the escalating tingling in his hands and feet signaling the rapid blood loss.

If he didn’t loosen her grip soon, he wouldn’t be able to. Bucking beneath her, Jeremiah attempted to jostle her off him, but to no avail: Rona held fast.

Calling on his element was instinctive. The moment he asked, it responded, coiling around his body in a comforting embrace that caressed his skin. The second he aimed it to thwart the vampire’s attack, it swelled harmlessly about them, passive.

The vampire.

She was borrowing his element, stealing the powers that made him master of the wind. All vampires could temporarily borrow the abilities of an Elemental—assuming they’d drank enough blood from their victim.

And that rare occasion when a vampire took enough of an Elemental’s blood to usurp their element had just signed Jeremiah’s death warrant.

Horrified at his predicament, he shivered, the blood loss already compounding. Rona’s fangs dug into his flesh, the stabbing pain of it dizzying as he continued to battle against her grip.

With every inch he fought for, he weakened further. Black spots danced along the edges of his vision and warned of his impending demise.

Lungs burning, he struggled meekly, his mouth open and gasping for the air that seemed to hover just out of reach. Each frenzied beat of his heart slowly became more sluggish and the tingling in his extremities became tremors.

For an Elemental borne of the air, to die without it was his worst fear.

Chapter Thirty-Three

A sudden spike in Zia’s anxiety alerted her before Gideon’s shout. The Elemental monarch had showed up minutes ago, looking for his wife. It seemed that Rona had vanished the same time Jeremiah had.

But when Gideon had gone in search of them, the shout of absolute, bone-melting terror had all of them sprinting toward his location. It took thirty seconds for them to find the cause of Gideon’s distress, and only a millisecond for Zia to register the scene before her.

At first, she couldn’t process what her eyes were telling her. Jeremiah lay sprawled on the ground, his throat torn open, while Gideon restrained a snarling vampire by sheer force. Roots had banded around her arms and legs, her face a mask of seething fury, while she struggled fruitlessly against her wooden restraints. Fortunately, they held and secured her across the room from her clear victim.

Jeremiah wasn’t moving.

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