Page 10 of Above Cursed Winds

“You’ll go to Nero’s clan lands and figure out what’s going on, Jeremiah.”

Seething at the entire exchange, Jeremiah balked. “And why should I?”

“Because that’s what we signed up for when we—when you—signed the accords, Jeremiah,” his monarch muttered. “Partnership: perhaps you could give it a go sometime.”

Finally, the dam holding back his bitter anger burst wide open. “I wish we’d never gone to that damned meeting! Everything from that point on has only gone downhill!”

Shocked by his outburst, his monarch took a step back, the earth stilling beneath their feet. Quiet, Gideon’s response was full of incredulity.

“Nothing has gone downhill, Jeremiah.”

But everything had, and they were just too blind to see it. Every step of the way had been painful, and they’d limped along under the guise of gaining ground. As far as he was concerned, it had cost too much and there was little progress to show for it.

“Damnit, Gideon, you died!”

Power burned in his veins, air molecules beginning to churn around him, a subtle breeze picking up in the room. When they’d signed the Accords, they’d been pulled into a war that hadn’t been theirs to fight.

“Citizens shot you in front us when you weren’t even on their radar!”

Every cell of his being cringed as the agonizing memories assaulted him, his pulse a staccato song. Unbidden, his mind flashed back to the night when Gideon had been assassinated in front of him. The weakness in his limbs. His own hoarse screams. The growing pool of crimson haloing Gideon’s motionless form.

No. Never again.

Jeremiah would never put himself in a position of vulnerability again, one where he couldn’t save the people he loved most. Being helpless—powerless—was the greatest torture.

It didn’t matter that Gideon had risen, alive and well. His best friend had died that night, and Rukia had vanished in the aftermath. He’d stayed, dealing with the responsibilities in Paracel they’d both abandoned. Jeremiah was the one who’d dealt with the aftershocks that had rocked throughout their entire Elemental species. And now, they were ganging on him and accusing him of not caring enough.

Before Gideon could respond, the sound of footsteps broke their unintentional standoff, and Jeremiah collapsed into his chair. He pressed his thumb and forefinger into his temples, shielding himself from their view.

He’d rather cast himself off a rocky cliff than see that disappointment in Gideon’s eyes again.

Chapter Five

Emotional turmoil was a potent burn against Zia’s psychic senses, and it’d been building since the moment they’d left the conference room. Like Nero, she was well attuned to them, but his power far eclipsed hers in that regard.

Today, her Psyche ability was tugging her toward the Elemental whose memory was creating such a stir within her. Though she wouldn’t be able to see details without being closer—possibly even touching him—the emotional impact of whatever haunted him was devastating.

When she trailed Nero into the conference room behind the rest of the Raeths, she stepped into the fresh tension of a standoff that’d only recently come to an end.

Gideon, the golden-eyed Elemental who functioned as their monarch, was standing in the center of a loose circle. Every muscle beneath his olive skin was coiled and his eyes betrayed just how distraught he was. He was looking directly at Jeremiah.

Nero’s voice broke the ice like a hammer. “Shall we call the rest of our number? No sense in waiting when we can finish our conversation and be on with it.”

“Yes,” Gideon said. “Yes, let’s finish this.”

Anxiety made her skin feel like it stretched too tightly over her bones, but Zia sat by her sovereign anyway, the picture of composure. The wolves and vampires filtered in, taking their seats, and casting discreet gazes toward where Jeremiah lingered, his face still hidden behind his hand.

When conversation started once again, she was an eager participant, offering opinions and suggestions where she could. In fact, the entire discussion had transitioned from stilted and stiff to agreeable after the break and with whatever words had been exchanged with the troublesome Elemental during it.

Everyone was eager for resolution, and for what Jeremiah would find when he would dig deeper, but even when his name was spoken and they looked to the red-haired Elemental for input, he didn’t respond. There was no change in his posture or his emotional signature, like he held himself off behind a barrier.

The turmoil within him had abated, but only just, and not even his monarch next to him could prompt him into action. In fact, Gideon’s entire expression had changed, and Zia caught his focus shifting to Jeremiah more than once during the conversation.

With such a tumultuous psychic signature, the Elemental could only be trouble.

In the twelve hundred years she’d walked the Earth, Zia had experienced her fair share of toxic personalities. She was a Raeth with daunting psychological abilities, and being among humans nearly always brought her to her knees. The mortals’ paper-thin mental shields held no barrier against her talent, and even when she wasn’t trying, their emotions and memories assaulted her.

She’d spied murderers walking down main street. She’d caught thieves a turn ahead of their prize. The worst was that she’d seen abusive men treating their woman like princesses for the sake of appearances. It made her sick.

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