Chapter 30 - Above Cursed Winds

Heartbeat thumping in his ears, Jeremiah’s muscles locked when he caught sight of Gideon and Rona. They hadn’t noticed him yet; the couple had their backs turned and were talking animatedly with Nero and Key.

There was still time to run before they saw him.

As he shuffled backward a step, Zia’s hand tightened on his. He saw the truth in her eyes: she hadn’t known they’d be here, and thus hadn’t led him like a lamb to the slaughter. Regardless, the female Raeth wasn’t going to let him leave.

And oh—now Zia knew his secret. He’d told her what’d happened that night when he’d attempted to save Gideon and failed.

Would she disclose his transgression and failure?

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.

“Get away from me.”

This time, there was no hurt, no betrayal in those familiar features, only resignation and weariness. The writing was on the wall: Gideon had all but given up on him.

* * *

Jeremiah lost himself in Mario Kart. Sehrin had taken a brief reprieve to take care of business in Houston, leading Myko to ask Jeremiah for another tournament.

Gladly accepting, he’d adopted the same attitude he’d had around Myko since day one: genuine and carefree. It wasn’t the boy’s fault Jeremiah had made a mess of his life, and he wouldn’t let that affect their friendship.

Zia had collapsed on the couch next to him, having worked herself into a frenzy getting dinner ready whilst adamantly refusing Jeremiah’s multiple offers of help. Her fingers traced an absent path over his back, a gentle reminder he wasn’t alone.

After he’d lost his temper in the confrontation with Gideon, he’d retreated to the lighthouse. He’d stewed on what’d happened, seething for all of five minutes before Zia had tracked him down.

The saintly woman had talked him off the ledge and dragged him back to her home where he’d promptly lost seven tournaments in a row to The King of the Kart.

Now, the polite knock at the door spiked his anxiety all over again.

Zia answered the door and pleasantries were exchanged. Not at all surprised to hear Nero’s voice among the gathered, Jeremiah didn’t give the newcomers a single glance when they all entered the room.

That didn’t stop Rona from approaching and perching politely on the sofa next to him. Softly, she said, “I’m glad to see you, Jeremiah. We’ve all been worried.”

At his silence, the vampire continued, quieter now. “If you need to talk to someone, I’d encourage you to. It doesn’t have to be me, or Gideon, or Rukia. Just someone you trust.”

Jeremiah held his tongue, though he longed to spew a sarcastic comeback at her. Rona simply squeezed his shoulder and left when it became clear he wouldn’t respond. At the squeaking of the couch, Myko turned around with a wild look in his eye, having suddenly realized they were no longer alone.

Blinking wildly and mouth opening in a wide grin, he paused the game and leapt to his feet. “Are you Gideon? And Rona?”

Thus began Myko’s eager interrogation about all things Elemental and vampire. Zia joined in, correcting her son’s rather brazen questions with a polite overtone, and Jeremiah all but tuned them out.

He closed his eyes and rested his elbows on his knees, wishing he could be anywhere else. He’d stayed in Hawaii to get away from Gideon, not to be stuck at a dinner party with the man.

Beside him, the couch suddenly sagged. Instinctively knowing it wasn’t Myko or Zia, he glanced up with a half snarl.

Nero.

The Raeth sovereign wore a knowing half-smile. “If I agreed to teleport you anywhere in the world, where would you choose?”

“Preferably an active volcano.”

“That painful, huh?” Something in Nero’s voice made Jeremiah sit up straighter, take stock of the other man. “We all have scars, Jeremiah, some visible and others soul deep. Try as we might, we can’t remove them, but we can learn to live with them or move past them, even if it’s painful.”

An errant vein of sarcasm struck him. “And how should I let my soul be seen, Nero? Carve out my heart and give it to you all in offering?”

A knowing look, too soft for happiness, lined Nero’s face. “Perhaps.”

“Come on over, sovereign, Jeremiah.” Zia’s soft call interrupted them.

Remorse sat heavily in his gut as he approached the dinner table, choosing to sit as far away from Gideon as possible. Conversation flowed easily between Rona, Nero, and Zia, all three of them engaging with Myko’s barrage of questions about life in Paracel.

Myko was fascinated by the fact that Rona drank Gideon’s blood. Oblivious of the awkward nature of the subject for the adults present, he asked about how she was able to control the earth after feeding on her mate. Once Gideon let it slip that there was another vampire who could control fire after drinking from his Elemental wife, the boy almost started to bounce in excitement.

Jeremiah couldn’t help but smile at Myko’s innocence, his passion for learning. The kid was brilliant, soaking up facts and information like a sponge, and eagerly told them about how he’d learned to adjust cabinets and help with the carpet.

“And after he fixed my sink, Jeremiah told me that I was his best friend,” Myko said proudly, beaming at their guests. “I’m hoping he stays here with us forever.”

And suddenly, Jeremiah couldn’t breathe. His fists clenched unwittingly on his fork, hovering frozen above his plate, and Gideon did much the same. Unknowingly, the boy had gutted both men for vastly different reasons.

Though he’d echoed the words back to Myko to hear them mimicked back made it real somehow. It made the monumental chasm between him and Gideon seem insurmountable.

Offering the youngling a smile he hoped looked sincere, Jeremiah fronted happiness, “Of course, little man. Best buds.”

Bumping knuckles, Myko excitedly launched into another discussion about dinosaurs, not realizing the tense mood of the adults at the table.

Nero, sensing something was amiss, organically ushered Myko away, asking the child to show him the collection of plastic dinosaurs upstairs.

And then there was silence.

Unflinchingly, Zia’s hand crept over to meet his beneath the table. Jeremiah could sense her yearning for him, but he kept his eyes trained on his abandoned food.

“Jer?” The hoarse word was almost a croak from the Elemental he’d once called his best friend. “Jeremiah?”

A mismatch of emotions rioted through him; the need to comfort, the urge to scream, the wish to simply disappear. But Jeremiah found that he couldn’t resist the urge to meet Gideon’s gaze.

He found the other man fixated on him.

Jeremiah couldn’t drum up any spite or malice. Everything within him felt as though he’d been ripped apart at the seams, drained of intent and every drop of happiness he’d ever felt. It’d left him empty.

“Don’t look at me like that, Gideon.”

A sound of pure agony escaped from the other man. “Jeremiah, please. What have I done?”

“Nothing—and everything! Damnit, Gideon, just stop!”

Fisting a hand in his hair, Jeremiah could no longer remain still. Standing up so fast his chair toppled over behind him, he exited the dining room through the sliding doors without a backwards look. He needed to escape.

But Gideon followed.

He’d made it five steps out into the pounding rain before roots shot up from the earth before him to prevent his escape. Snarling as though he were a caged puma, he rounded on the other man, baring his teeth.

“Stop following me!”

“Then tell me!” Gideon yelled. “Tell me what I’ve done to make you hate me so much!”

Jeremiah’s resolve crumpled. “Hate you?” Roaring to the heavens, the wind whistled around him, splicing across his skin as the rain continued to beat into them. “I’ve never hated you, Gideon!”

“Then what do you call this?” Spreading his arms wide, Gideon stared him down, drowning in sorrow. “I’ve lost my best friend, and I don’t even know why.”

Guilt became a dagger in his core, spreading fury at his own incompetence. Clutching his chest, Jeremiah’s shoulders shook with tension. With deep, abiding sadness.

“I can’t, Gideon—I just can’t.”

When he leapt into the air to desperately escape this confrontation, a root snagged his ankle, preventing his rise and yanking him toward the ground. Savage, Jeremiah’s fury slammed into Gideon, the sharp lash of wind cutting into his monarch’s cheek and drawing blood.

“Jeremiah!”

But he barely heard the cry, his enraged haze overshadowing his sense of reason. The root twisted around his ankle, unforgiving. The crushing grip continued to keep him earthbound, a pressure that cinched so tightly it turned painful.

He didn’t hold back. Pushing against it with his abilities, it tore apart, and Jeremiah set on Gideon with a sneer.

“Stop it!”

“Not until you tell me why you’ve made me the enemy!”

Roaring, Jeremiah loosened a shout to the heavens, the air coiling around him in a comforting blanket. Why would his element soothe him now, but not when Gideon’s life had been in danger? It’d abandoned him, just like Gideon had.

“Jeremiah!” A crushing grip slammed into his shoulder, bringing him to his knees. “Jeremiah, Myko is watching.”

And that was all he needed to rein in the fury that’d boiled over and regain some semblance of calm. Nero’s deep brown eyes nearly glowed, and the building anger within Jeremiah dissipated as though it’d never been. Blinking, he frowned at the sovereign.

“I won’t have you destroy yourselves in front of a child.”

No longer the jovial man he’d always been, Nero’s entire persona was swallowed by the powerful sovereign staring down at him, an electric pulse abrasive against his skin.

“Be calm, Elemental.”

And somehow, he was.

Exhaling, Jeremiah staggered to his feet, finding Gideon only a yard away. But Nero wasn’t done reprimanding them. “Behave, or I’ll liquify your brains inside your skulls.”

Watching mutely as the sovereign made his exit, the cold rain splattered unforgivingly against the side of his face, dripping down his chin and dropping toward the earth.

“Will you talk to me?”

For a moment, it was all Jeremiah could do to hold back his sharp retort. But the calm seeped through to his soul, begging him to keep the hateful comment within. He shook his head.

“I can’t.”

“Why? Why won’t you tell me what I’ve done wrong?”

Drained, he couldn’t hold his monarch’s tearful gaze. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Gideon. It was never anything you did.”

Realization widened Gideon’s eyes. “It was something you did?”

But he’d already said too much, and his jaw clenched. Jeremiah pushed past the other man into the house, finding Zia waiting for him just within the sliding glass door.

Concern pinched her stunning features, her fingers gently reaching for his. He allowed her delicate hands to capture his and coax him inside. Gently, she stroked the droplets of rainwater from his cheeks, uncaring that Rona hovered silently behind her.

Murmuring an apology, Jeremiah stepped away, toward the front door, not stopping until he’d left the home and was in the air.