Page 28 of Above Cursed Winds

The bond between her and the sovereign held no romantic intimacy. Key, the Foreseer, had changed the course of both their lives in that respect. She had shown Nero telepathic images of his future mate when he was only a hundred years old, and he’d remained true to that dreamlike image.

The future was written differently for Zia. Key had also seen Zia’s eventual mate around the same time. The few words of the prophecy fate had in store for her had ruined romance forever in Zia’s eyes.

Shrugging off the melancholy of her thoughts, she dove headfirst into what she did best: helping people.

Chapter Fourteen

The diagnostic Jeremiah had run since yesterday revealed that Nero’s security was nearly flawless.

It only strengthened his conviction that this had been an inside job. What Nero had said was true: it would have been nearly impossible for someone to waltz onto clan lands, break into the dome, unlock Zia’s office with no sign of forcing the door, then crack her password and fingerprint protection to access her device and nab the files. Then manage to get out without almost any trace.

It was both concerning and disconcerting. He was currently living in his number one suspect’s house, and she had shown him kindness last night—and this morning. What he needed to discover now was whether she’d have a motive to betray her clan and all of immortal society.

He simply couldn’t reconcile the two images in his head. On the one hand, a betrayer who had thrown innocents and vulnerable children into the cruel maw of the enemy; and on the other, the devoted mother and lieutenant who had blushed when she’d accidentally walked in on him. Her wide, innocent eyes, so frazzled yet full of heat. It just didn’t add up.

All day long, he mulled through the possibilities as he worked on upgrading Nero’s system. Though it still functioned like a well-oiled machine, their technopath had stopped installing updates around the time the Heat hit.

Like the Elementals had done for Paracel, Nero had mounted sensors on any roads into clan lands, and there was continuous video monitoring on the public buildings. Tomorrow, he’d work through the footage to see if he could find anything Zia had missed. Or purposefully omitted.

It was her computer, her office, and her information. His list of suspects was short, and she was at the top, no matter how prettily she smiled when her son won at Mario Kart. Zia was a single mother with a kid who was starved for attention. Myko’s father, still unaccounted for, was an unknown. If she had been blackmailed, threatened, or manipulated into giving the information to the Citizens—or any other interested party—she’d still have to play the right cards with her sovereign.

Everything about it was unsettling. Until he had more proof either way, letting Nero in on his suspicions would be counterproductive.

Early in the afternoon, Jeremiah was keen to escape the stuffy offices and get out of his own head. He went in search of Myko. The youngling had been crowned uncontested King of the Kart this morning after their impromptu tournament and now, Jeremiah would take him to an actual field where they could practice with the soccer ball.

Myko’s enthusiasm was contagious, and the Elemental couldn’t help but feel his own spirit become lighter. It’d been ages since he’d felt anything but spite and hostility and being around the Raeth youngling seemed to damper that antagonism.

Every once in a while, a couple of Raeths would pass by their impromptu stadium, pretending not to stare at them. Electricity had tingled up Jeremiah’s spine, informing him that their silent auditors were telepathically communicating with another party. Zia, if he had to guess.

Myko had confirmed it after the third time it happened, letting him know that they were merely making sure he wasn’t being kidnapped or tortured.

After a few hours, Jeremiah insisted on going back to Zia’s house, his anxiety churning with the need to accomplish something. He knew he’d find a festering pool of guilt if he examined the feeling, so he left it unexplored. Instead, he got to work on repaying his host for her generous welcome.

Jeremiah had spotted the kitchen cabinet doors lingering in a far corner of the ground floor, ready to install. With time on his hands and the toolbox he grabbed from Zia’s room, the least he could do was hang a few.

But a few soon became all of them.

“Now, which ones adjust the height, Myko?”

Jeremiah held Myko’s waist as the boy stood on the countertop, tentatively tapping on the hinge’s two vertical screws.

“These two?”

“Yeah! Now give it a go.”

Myko deftly untightened one side before tightening the other, leveling the door’s height with a near-perfect adjustment. He gently swung the door closed, eyes pinching at the corners to inspect his handiwork.

“Did I do it right?”

“You did awesome, little man.” Jeremiah grinned, helping him down. “I think we’re almost done. You want to give that one a try by yourself?”

Nodding fervently, Myko clutched his screwdriver like a prized trophy before trotting over to one of the last remaining cabinets on the lower portion.

“My mom woulda done this, but she’s super busy with all the babies.”

“I’m sure she is. It seems like she’s a busy woman.”

“Oh yeah.” Myko’s laugh sounded before he began adjusting the hinge. “She does so much for our sovereign. She helps with the babies, like, all the time! And takes care of most of the builder’s stuff. And then she works with our lighthouse, too, and then with all our clansmen who are just coming in, and of course she does the safety and security for the clan, and takes really good care of me, too.”

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