Page 61 of Above Cursed Winds

Silently, he pleaded with his eyes, begging her to remain quiet. There’d be no telling what Gideon’s reaction would be if he found out the truth. Worse than the insufferable guilt would be his friend’s disappointment with him, the feeling that he’d let the other man down even at his own death.

Regulating his emotions, Jeremiah straightened. This meeting would undoubtedly be a disaster.

As if sensing Jeremiah’s readiness, Nero offered them a luminous smile, bidding him and Zia a fond welcome. Gideon and Rona rounded to pin them with questioning stares. A cursory once over to confirm he was uninjured, followed by a deliberate, soul-invading scrutiny that seemed to abrade his every cell.

“Jeremiah.”

Cringing inwardly at Gideon’s tone, the air Elemental strained to keep his face a blank mask. “Checking up on me?”

A tight smile from his monarch. “No.”

“Liar.”

“This visit was planned many months ago. You booked the tickets, or don’t you recall?”

A twitch in his eye as his mind offered up the memory. He’d been recovering from a cage fight at the time, had purchased the tickets on his cell phone from the floor of a dirty Las Vegas bathroom.

“Oh, he remembers. And what a disturbing memory it is." A whimsical voice rang out from behind them. Key, no doubt.

No one turned to look at her.

“Convenient timing.” Jeremiah shrugged. “All things considered.”

“Now that you mention it,” Gideon stepped forward, Rona following like a shadow at his back, “the forty-nine texts, eighteen unanswered calls, and the countless emails you ignored did lead me to believe you’d been eaten by a shark. So, forgive me, Jeremiah, if my presence here disturbs you. I came to assure myself of your continued health.”

Key laughed, the sound twinkling as she trotted out to stand by Gideon and Rona. “I may have told them to book the tickets for this exact day.”

Once again, Jeremiah’s desire to punish himself, and to be the punisher, became a suffocating urge.

Behind the Elemental monarch, Nero grimaced. “Shall we get you settled in, Gideon, Rona? Long flights and little leg room and all that.”

The joke fell flat, but Key laughed anyway. Her near-white irises seemed to taunt Jeremiah, and just as he was about to abandon his attempts at civility, Zia stepped in.

“We’d love to have you both over for dinner at my house tonight,” she offered. “My son Myko would love to meet you. Jeremiah’s told him so much about your gifts, Gideon, and my son is caught in hero worship.”

While it hadn’t been a lie, Jeremiah winced.

“We’d love that, Zia.” Gracious to a fault, Gideon gave her a worldly bow. Jeremiah could hardly withhold his snort. “Jeremiah, a word?”

“No.”

That was a word, and Jeremiah had given it to him.

Annoyance flared within the depths of those molten gold eyes, but Jeremiah couldn’t find it within himself to care.

“I’m not asking, I’m—”

“You’re what? Demanding?” Mockery seeped into the words, and Jeremiah didn’t withhold the snort this time. “News flash, Gideon, we’re not in Paracel. You don’t own me.”

Pure, unadulterated hurt struck Gideon’s features like he’d been physically hit. The callous words had found their mark, gutting the other man as they’d been intended to do. Everything in Jeremiah recoiled at the harsh treatment of his best friend, but he couldn’t find it within him to take back the statement.

Whirling, Jeremiah sped towards the exit, but paused when Gideon called out, “Please. Please Jeremiah. Tell me what I’ve done wrong.”

With his back turned, no one could see the tears that had instantly burned his eyes. There was an overwhelming need to reassure Gideon that he hadn’t done anything wrong. That it was all Jeremiah’s own fault, and every second of every day he was haunted by what he’d failed to do—and what he would’ve done given the chance.

Instead, he started gasping for air, soundlessly starved for his element as though he’d been buried underground for months without it.

When Gideon’s hand gently touched his shoulder, Jeremiah forced himself to adopt a snarl. Spinning, he slapped his monarch’s hand away.

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