Page 83 of Above Cursed Winds

“How do you know all this about him?” Jeremiah shifted beside him, clasping the other man companionably on the shoulder. “How can you tell what he’s able to do?”

“I’m an Amp, and part of that ability is to know what someone’s gifts are.”

“That’s why we didn’t sense him entering our lands,” Luna said. “Why he was able to get into Zia’s computer. I’d hazard a guess and say that’s why the Citizens are always one step ahead of us. This Citizens Raeth, he reads our texts, our emails. He’s everywhere.”

Behind them, the sound of footsteps had Jeremiah spinning defensively. Catching sight of the sovereign—and his second in command—he relaxed.

And still, he couldn’t look Zia in the eye.

Something connecting them—an invisible tie—wavered in response, and Jeremiah could have sworn he felt latent remorse filtering through the link. Everything within him said it was Zia, but there wasn’t any time to explore the strange feeling.

As Nero crouched by the wounded man, he softly asked, “Nolan, tell me something: did the people who attacked you come from the beach?”

“Yes, sovereign.”

“There was a boat that docked by Luna’s house,” Jeremiah offered. “A handful of men arrived with it.”

A switch flipped within the Raeth sovereign. One moment, he was calm and controlled, the next, he was on his feet and stalking toward the silver-blonde Raeth gifted in foresight.

“Did you or did you not tell me that there’d be no unanticipated attack from the sea, Kiyonne?” Barely more than a growl, Nero’s hostility rose with every word.

To her merit, Key didn’t cower. “I did, sovereign. I told you there wouldn’t be any unanticipated attack.” Then, swallowing harshly, she added. “I had, however, anticipated the attack.”

Everyone stilled, Jeremiah included.

Animosity poured from the male who’d stopped a yard away, his fists clenched by his sides. “You … saw … that there would be men arriving by boat?”

Key dropped her gaze to the ground, the silence speaking for her.

The sovereign barely kept his temper in check, agitation rife in his features. “You deliberately risked lives by making a decision to keep that information from me? Lie to me?”

“Sovereign, I—”

“Answer me! The truth!”

“Yes,” Key squeaked, taking a step back but finding herself against the wall. It was the first time Jeremiah had ever seen her look anything less than confident.

“You willfully placed my people in danger!” Shouting now, Nero stalked to within a foot of the cowering woman, towering over her as fire licked in his eyes. “If there had been loss of life, I’d expel you from this clan without a second thought.”

Seconds later, he spun and his fist met the wall beside her, splattering plaster a foot away from her shoulder.

Seething, he continued, “If you ever intentionally miscommunicate your visions to me in the future and place my clan in danger, you’re done, Kiyonne. I won’t stand for treachery, and these kinds of actions have no place in our home. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

“Sovereign, everything I do has a reason.” Finding her confidence, Key had the tenacity to look him in the eye. “You know this, whether you’ll admit to it or not. There is a greater purpose, a plan. And that plan will keep us alive.”

Gently, she reached for where his hand still was lodged within the wall, circling her thumb and forefinger around his wrist before gingerly extracting it and brushing off the dust.

Key simply said, “You need to trust me.”

Nero’s eyes softened, his mouth tightening before he asked, “How can I trust you when you’ve already shown your hand? You’ve already endangered my people.”

“Trust is so rarely given and once broken, can be irreparably lost.” Key squeezed his hand where she held it, her eyes turning sad. “Sovereign, don’t allow this to break your trust in me. We’re nearing the end now, so close to the finish. Don’t let this sway you from your path.”

***

Half an hour later, Nero had a field day teleporting the bodies of dead mercenaries to the burned remnants of the Citizens Saint Louis manufacturing plant. With so many dead or dying, there’d be no way to conceal their intrusion. It’d been the only option.

Having assured himself that Myko was alive and well, Jeremiah began the arduous process of assisting in the cleanup. Broken glass was plentiful, but there’d been no loss of life on their end. In addition to the scattered remnants of hurricane debris, few houses were completely untouched.

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