Page 48 of Above Cursed Winds

“And what is this, Z?”

“Ink, Jeremiah.” She laughed at the playful amusement in his eyes. “I have wings. It only makes sense that birds fly their way across my skin, too.”

“Bad girl at heart. Shoulda known.”

“Bad girl, huh?”

“It’s always the ones that look innocent.” He got up on one elbow to gaze contentedly down at her. “So, my rugged good looks and witty charm have succeeded in winning you over? You’re now fully embracing that you’re destined to be mine?”

Choking, Zia could only blink at him.

His contented smile turned melancholic. “Break my heart tomorrow, Z.”

Planting a delicate kiss on her nose, he maneuvered her until she was lying next to him, their heads on two of her many pillows.

Then, with no warning, the man unashamedly claimed her as his own personal cuddle-bunny. His arm tucked in around her waist, and with a single tug, she slid backwards until she was flush against the heat of his skin. Zia said nothing as he nestled in behind her, his lips pressing a kiss to the column of her neck.

“Night, boss.”

The whispered words soothed her spirit, dissipating the tension that’d built up behind his actions. Jeremiah was breaking down every wall she’d erected around her heart, shattering years’ worth of work to keep everyone else out.

For good reason.

Tomorrow, she’d speak with Key. She’d confirm that Jeremiah wasn’t fated to her and that she could move forward with whatever it was they were doing here. Because if there was even a possibility he could be her mate, all bets would be off. She wouldn’t sign his death warrant.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jeremiah’s anxiety spiked before he was fully awake.

Panic bled through him as he jolted upright, his every instinct beating down the doors of his mind. Automatically, his element curled around both him and Zia in a protective shield.

Standing beside them was a blond Raeth, features obscured by darkness, with hands held high in surrender. Nero, unapologetically pushing a knife to the intruder’s throat, was leaking an indescribable amount of power. The weight of it settled heavily on Jeremiah’s chest and made it difficult to breathe.

He hadn’t noticed either Raeth teleport in, but was more than aware of Zia mirroring his movements before she scrambled to stand.

“Wait, Nero!” The woman gasped. “It’s Remmus!”

“There’s no time to explain.” The Raeth’s wary tone spoke of urgency. “Another house has been poisoned. Jeremiah, we need you.”

He gave an immediate nod. “Let’s go.”

Reaching out, he allowed Remmus to grab his hand, and a second later, they were pulled through the ether and spit out in a familiar location. Jeremiah and Zia had been there only yesterday: it was Kane’s House in Philadelphia.

Vampires sprinted around them, some coughing wretchedly as others crawled toward the exit. Kane caught Jeremiah’s eye for half a moment as he directed his people. He saw in the council elder the same desperation he’d felt the night Gideon had died—the inability to save those he loved.

It lasted only a second before Kane sprinted back to aid a vampire who was writhing on the floor in a pool of blood.

Immediately, Jeremiah closed his eyes, his gift reaching into the molecules of air around them. In a single burst, his consciousness soared within the building as he began the tedious and painstaking work of purifying it.

By the sheer amount of gaseous sunlight in the air, it’d undoubtedly been caught later than the previous attack. Contaminants floated thickly, odorless and tasteless, impossible to see with the naked eye.

If they were lucky, there wouldn’t be any casualties, but chance hadn’t been on their side in what felt like an eternity.

Immortals continued to stumble past him toward the clean air outside, and Jeremiah continued to purify each of the thirty-four floors, one nook and cranny at a time.

While his physical body remained behind, his consciousness continued to scrub the air of the treacherous particles. Laborious and painstaking, yes. Difficult, no. His ability to manipulate the air was unprecedented. In his youth, he’d accidentally created an F4 tornado because he’d had a bad day. Since then, he’d only grown in power and control.

Jeremiah returned to his body with a jolt, a tremor running down his spine. The gaseous sunlight he’d taken from the air had slowly collected in a hovering mass of violet-yellow plasma in front of him.

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