Page 68 of Above Cursed Winds

“You believe you can come here, intruding on Zia’s good graces and make friends with my son?” Sehrin’s laugh was low and mocking. “You’ve no foundation in Raeth community, youngling, and I’ve little to fear from a moderately long-lived human who can make a flag wave when he really, really tries.”

“Says the clanless Raeth?” Jeremiah chuckled. “Don’t make me laugh.”

An indecipherable emotion flashed behind Sehrin’s eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was oddly disconcerting.

“I think it’s about time you leave, Jeremiah.”

Zia, surprised by the ballsy request, balked. Her nose scrunched as an itch of energy tickled across her skin once more, but Jeremiah merely shook his head once, stating a simple, “Nah.”

The Raeth male ground his teeth together before spitting, “Zia and Myko are mine, Elemental. You’ve no place here.”

Zia had had enough. “We don’t belong to you, Sehrin. Myko is your son, yes, but you’ve never been his dad. You’re a glorified sperm donor, nothing more. I want Jeremiah here, so he’ll stay here. You have no right to dictate my actions, nor those of my company.”

“Oh, I most certainly do.”

A blast of telekinetic power slammed into Jeremiah, catching him off guard and throwing him backward. The chair clattered out from behind him, and the wind Elemental was slammed into the drywall with a sickening thunk.

On her feet within moments, Zia threw out a hand to counter Sehrin’s unprovoked attack, but already, Jeremiah was defending himself.

Sehrin staggered on his feet, clutching at his throat. Jeremiah leisurely picked himself up from against the wall, brushing off the dust as Sehrin choked. The Raeth’s face turned a tomato red, and while he was in no immediate danger of suffocation, the attack had caught him off guard. The only indication of any action on the Elemental’s part was a breeze that gently combed through his hair.

“Jeremiah?” Zia asked.

Chuckling, the sound tinged with a dark element, Jeremiah gazed at the Myko’s father. “You see, Sehrin, the thing about wind Elementals? We control all air. The air in the atmosphere, the air pooling around you, the air in your lungs. If I say you don’t breathe, you don’t breathe. Got it, pumpkin?”

He didn’t wait for a response before releasing his hold on Sehrin’s lungs, and the Raeth gulped in a desperate breath before starting for the other man with untamed fury.

Zia stepped into his path, blocking Jeremiah from his view. She inclined her chin and pinned the clanless Raeth with a withering stare. To punctuate her threat, she palmed a short, ice-white dagger. Sehrin didn’t miss it.

“Have you forgotten the terms of our arrangement, Sehrin?”

He sneered. “If I’m not mistaken, the Elemental is not of your clan. The rules don’t apply to him.”

“That is where you’re wrong,” Zia warned. “The same rule applies to our visitors. You’d do well to remember it.”

As if it physically pained him, Sehrin backed away. “My mistake.”

Zia had a feeling this was far from over.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Every instinct in Jeremiah pulsed chaotically. The need to ensure Zia and her son were protected had prompted an urge to pummel the man who Myko called father. Since their spat only a few hours ago, Sehrin’s eyes had become glued to Zia.

Detesting the guy with every fiber of his being, Jeremiah studied him from where he sat in the dome alongside Nero’s lieutenants, attempting to understand his motivations. It was difficult to be in any way objective. Sehrin looked at Zia as though she was a limping gazelle, and he, a starving lion.

The only time Myko’s father relaxed the surveillance was when he’d allowed Rona and Gideon to walk him over the Peace Accords and their purpose.

Sehrin had been back within ten minutes, deeming the entire exercise frivolous. Trotting by his side was Rona, still attempting to explain the purpose of their treaty and the strides every nation had made in the years since. The Raeth had rolled his eyes.

Jeremiah sat, perched on the lounge chair with his phone in hand, reading the latest report. Remmus had updated him—and the rest of the Accords delegates—about the status of the hard drive they’d taken from the apartment. The technopath’s thorough inspection had revealed the owner’s connections with Torrin, confirming what they’d suspected all along: that the list had been stolen by the Citizens.

The Raeth who’d waltzed into Nero’s offices, psychically shielded, had hacked into Zia’s computer to take their most sensitive information.

Jeremiah knew that the sovereign had adjusted his psychic borders to account for a Sheild. More work needed to be done, but the clan’s attention had now turned to another imminent threat.

Nero was currently briefing his people on the impending hurricane. While the sovereign had outlined the contingency plans to their initial course of action decades ago, everything had changed after the Heat.

With a hundred babies all under a year old, they had little place to retreat to outside of their own territory. Very few families could simply up and leave, given their fragile health. The clan was in a tough situation.

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