Chapter 10 - Above Cursed Winds

It didn’t take long for Jeremiah to find a place where he could vent his frustration. Every blow of his fists gradually reduced the fury burning inside of him, each grunt and growl that escaped him a soothing balm to his soul.

Chain link indented his skin, the abrasive metal biting deeply. The man opposite him spit blood, his crooked smile rust red with the aftermath of Jeremiah’s blows. And still, Jeremiah found it of no consequence against the mountain of grief he held inside.

Another volley, another exchange, another punishing series of blows to his torso.

Through it all, Jeremiah never backed down. He met every strike with his own, the unspent fury within him fueling the need for revenge that’d never come to pass. He needed the pain.

Only after it was finished and his final opponent laid unconscious and bleeding at his feet, did he return to Nero’s clan lands. Invisible, he entered his borrowed quarters and quietly closed the door behind him. One step inside, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the wooden flooring under the effect of his injuries.

Cheek smashed against the ground, he lay unmoving, the air circulating around his injuries in the most loving caress. Each delicate whistle of wind healed the bruised and bloodied portions of his flesh. His element cradled him as he called it, willing it to wrap around his battered body.

Eyes closing, he allowed himself to relax against the cool flooring. Since Gideon’s death, he’d spent many a night on the floor, whether purposeful or not. It no longer bothered him in a way it did most people. After witnessing such terrible things, after having his soul ripped from his body, physical discomfort ranked low on his list of grievances.

The sound of the crashing tides against volcanic rock was distant, dulled through glass and wood. Allowing his abilities free rein, he clicked the lock on the sliding glass door open, pushing it along its tracks as the roar of the ocean gradually built to a crescendo.

Jeremiah remained still, breathing steadily in and out where he lay upon the floor.

Again, he wondered whether now was the time to give in. He’d lived four hundred years, lifetimes upon lifetimes, and seen wonders the world over. He’d climbed Everest, scuba dived in underwater caves, and explored the pyramids. He’d flown the world over, seeing things no mortal had ever seen.

The tethers that had once tied him to the ground had begun to loosen. Gideon had moved on with his life, establishing a new purpose with his wife. Much the same, Rukia had Isaiah now, and their child. Only Tyee had remained the same: on one of his many mysterious adventures, never knowing when he’d return to see his friends in Paracel.

When Gideon had died, he’d left Jeremiah behind. Rukia had vanished, and Jeremiah had been stuck with keeping Paracel afloat. He’d been forced to deal with it all while they took the easy way out. He had been forced to pick up the pieces of a life that’d shattered. No amount of glue would ever fix it.

Now, Gideon and Rukia—even Aidan at times—had attempted to persuade him to move past it. He loathed them for it. No one could understand what Jeremiah had gone through, and he hated that they were telling him what to feel and when to feel it.

Jeremiah had begun to wonder whether it’d be better to simply disappear. To give in to the call of his element and renounce his bodily form. ‘Becoming their element,’ the Elementals called it, but that was merely the name given to a form of suicide that seemed romantic and peaceful.

He had begun to question his purpose and calling before Gideon’s death. It was only when he experienced the shock of being incapable of saving his best friend that the hollow void began to eat him whole. Every question he asked of himself left him unsatisfied with the answer, hating every second of his pitiful solitary existence.

On the heels of his disturbing thoughts, he gave in to slumber.

* * *

Thunk.

Jolting into consciousness, Jeremiah’s eyes opened. He blinked groggily, attempted to clear his vision. He sat bolt upright while his head whipped around to examine his surroundings.

The condo. Nero’s clan lands. Hawaii.

Thunk.

Straightening slightly, Jeremiah peered toward the source of the sound. Light beamed in from the open sliding glass doors, brilliant sunshine illuminating the entire room. While he’d have sworn the sound had come from the wall next to him, the echo reverberated through the open door.

Thunk.

Now he knew his mind wasn’t playing tricks. In four strides, he’d pushed open the sliding door and exited the condo, lifting a hand to shadow his eyes from the burning sun.

Thunk.

Pinpointing the sound, Jeremiah turned and rounded the corner of the condo, halting when he happened upon a youngling practicing with a soccer ball.

No more than ten years old, the boy’s curly dark hair brushed slightly over his ears, his childish features hinting as the man he’d one day grow into. Though he could be called skinny, his movements were full of a strength no youngling his age should have.

Clearly a Raeth child, and one born before the most recent Heat.

As if suddenly noticing Jeremiah’s presence, the boy froze, turning wide, dark eyes toward where Jeremiah silently observed.

“I—I didn’t know there was anyone here!” he sputtered. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you!”

Instantly, Jeremiah’s features softened. “Chill, little man. No harm done.”

The boy let out an anxious breath. Grabbing the soccer ball, he shifted nervously back and forth on his feet.

Jeremiah decided to break the ice further. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Myko.”

The name was somehow the perfect fit. “I’m Jeremiah.”

Myko offered him a tentative grin, but when the Elemental extended his hand, the lad bristled and retreated into what seemed to be a practiced look of hesitation.

“I can leave if you want,” came the shy suggestion. “I just thought no one was here, and it’s a good place to practice.”

“Nah,” Jeremiah grinned. “Show me whatcha got!”

Delight was plain across the boy’s features as he dropped the ball to the ground and did some fancy footwork before punting it into the wall of the condo, nailing the exact spot where dirt still stained the siding.

Three more times, three more hits to the exact same spot.

“Color me impressed.” Grunting a laugh, Jeremiah stepped a bit closer. “How do you do against an opponent?”

A hint of nervousness flitted across Myko’s features, but it was gone nearly as quickly as it arrived. “You playing goalie?”

“Am I playing goalie?” Laughing genuinely, Jeremiah strode up to the spot that’d been puckered with mud from the child’s dead-on kicks. “What kind of a question is that? Let’s see if you can get the same spot with somebody defending this poor house.”

“You’re on!”

A nervous laugh before the kid dropped the ball and kicked it across a swath of grass. “But you can’t just stand there,” Myko called out, his feet punting the ball across the turf. “You gotta move your feet or it’s cheating.”

“Oh, I’ll be moving,” Jeremiah taunted with a smile. “Let’s just see if you can score.”

And score he did.

The recent rains had made for a wet playing field, but it didn’t bother either of them. By the time Myko hit ten points, the grass had turned sodden and the boy’s sneakers were coated in thick muck. Getting close enough to Jeremiah that he heard Myko’s delighted laugh, the youngling aimed one final kick at the makeshift goalie.

While the ball aimed true, the mud beneath his sneakers gave way. A shocked exclamation startled out of the boy. Instinctively, Jeremiah reached for him, grasping his arm to prevent him from falling.

The second his skin made contact with Myko’s, a vision slammed into his mind. Instantly, Jeremiah was back in that canyon, Gideon sprawled on the rock before him, writhing in pain. The scene played out like a movie before his mental eye, a perfect recreation of the devastating moments that’d taken place over a year ago.

With a gasp, Jeremiah jerked away. He landed hard on the ground several feet away from a stricken looking Myko, whose eyes were wide with panic. He’d lost any color in his cheeks, his naturally olive skin tone paling.

It took Jeremiah a moment to find his voice. “What was that?”

“I didn’t mean to,” came the well-worn apology, terror shining on Myko’s face. “I just—it—it happens when people touch my skin.”

Jeremiah’s gut clenched, his demeanor instantly shifting. “Did you see it? Did you see what I saw?”

“No.” A rapid shake of his head. “No, I didn’t see it. I never do.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jeremiah stilled. “Are you okay?”

“Am—am I okay?”

Myko’s incredulous look seemed so foreign on a child his age, as though he knew the question should’ve been posed the other way around.

When Jeremiah nodded, Myko blinked rapidly. “Yeah?”

“Good.” Getting to his feet, Jeremiah braced himself and held out a hand to the boy who was still sitting in mud. “Let’s finish our game.”

The Elemental’s goodwill had the opposite effect of what he intended. Myko’s face instantly crumpled, eyes tearing. Heart jumping into his throat, the man crouched before the boy.

“Hey bud, what’s wrong? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“I—I just,” he sniffed, “no one ever wants to touch me again after the first time. And you—you offered me your hand like it was no big deal.” Myko scrubbed a hand across his tearing eyes. “Like you were my friend.”

Jeremiah’s heart broke. He couldn’t imagine the type of isolation Myko’s gift would demand from others, the type of loneliness it’d bring about without intention. At the thought of what this child suffered through every day, all Jeremiah’s trouble seemed miniscule.

“I am your friend, Myko.”

* * *

Myko’s mouth never stopped moving. Like his feet, once unleashed, the lad wasn’t easily exhausted. His every thought burst from his lips like he’d been saving them up for just this occasion, filling Jeremiah in on the state of the clan’s newest residents, Nero’s plans for an elementary school, and how Myko would have to help with all the new kids because he was ‘more mature’.

Jeremiah was enjoying himself immensely.

Regardless of how abrasive the Elemental might’ve seemed to any other adult, he genuinely enjoyed chatting with the youngling. Their discussion took them into the dome first, where Jeremiah started a diagnostic on their physical security systems. It would run in the background for several hours—and most importantly, didn’t need his attention until later.

After Myko’s whirlwind tour of clan lands, they ended up back at the lighthouse near Jeremiah’s condo.

“And this—this is the lighthouse.” Myko’s cheeks finally took a break from grinning. “My mom says I shouldn’t play around here because I’ll die a horrible, bloody death on the rocks below.”

“I’d tend to agree with your mother.”

“But it’s so cool! My dad once told me that it was like four stories high, which is like as tall as a brachiosaurus. Did you know they were actually warm blooded? And they weighed sixty-two tons?”

“Nah, I didn’t little man,” he said, impressed. “You’re super smart.”

“My mom says I’m a smarty pants.”

Myko cocked his head then, the telltale prickle of electricity spiking up Jeremiah’s spine. They both stopped walking as the youngster frowned and nodded—a telepathic conversation.

“My mom said I have to come home for dinner.” Myko’s face fell for all of two seconds before it resumed its previous glow. “You should come home with me! My mom said that if I ever wanted to have a friend over for dinner, I could. You’re my friend, right?”

“Of course I am, little man.” Jeremiah clapped a hand on Myko’s shoulder, bracing slightly against the vision that slammed through his mental barriers and breached his thoughts before he righted himself. “But only if your mom says it’s okay.”

Beaming, Myko took off sprinting. Jeremiah cursed beneath his breath, then took off after him. It was only a quarter mile before he halted in front of a two-story, its driveway and sidewalk paved, but the front yard barren of grass.

“Mom! Momma!”

Myko threw open the door, Jeremiah lingering on the porch, hesitantly scouring the area for any signs of adult life. He wouldn’t waltz into anyone’s home before he knew what he was entering.

“I made a new friend, mom! Can he stay for dinner?”