Chapter 31 - Above Cursed Winds

Zia watched him disappear into the skies, her heart tearing in two. Everything within her had strained to comfort him and wash away the bitter anger that’d been directed solely at himself. As she’d watched the exchange between them, she’d realized something with absolute clarity: Jeremiah’s contempt had never been related to Gideon.

At one time, he must’ve fooled himself into believing Gideon’s perceived abandonment had been the reason for his current insecurity, but it’d never been the true source of his wounds.

Zia had read as much from the memories that assaulted her through her gift: Jeremiah was an open book to her, regardless of whether she’d consciously used her ability or not.

The moment Nero had stepped outside to break up their fight, she knew he’d been using his gifts. As a Reader, Zia’s sovereign was capable of both perceiving and altering emotional states, able to make his targets cower in fear or feel such happiness they’d never come down from their high. Tonight, he’d used his gift to dampen the turmoil in Gideon—and loosen the rage in Jeremiah.

Gideon had stepped onto the porch with her as Jeremiah made his airborne retreat, following his trajectory as ruefully as she had. Strong waves of remorse radiated out from him, pressing upon her gifts, tinged with the hollowness of despair.

“Do you know about the fighting?”

The words were out of her mouth before she’d consciously decided to broach the topic with someone she didn’t know, but who Jeremiah loved to the core of his being.

Startled, Gideon’s attention swung over to her. “Yes, but how do you?”

Tightening her grip on the railing, she glowered at Jeremiah’s monarch. “When someone is in that much pain, they find a way to express it. It was easy to track him and discover what he was up to.” She clicked her tongue angrily. “How could you know and not do anything about it?”

“What could I have done?” Gideon replied, as candid as she’d ever seen him. “He’s intent on punishing himself for a crime he didn’t commit, and when I’ve called him out for it in the past, it’s only made matters worse.” Anger abating, he hung his head. “I was hoping this trip would help clear his head, realign his priorities. I’m not sure it has.”

“You’re wrong,” came her quiet reply. “He was getting better. I could sense the change in his psychic signature.”

“Then why has he been like this?”

“Because you’re here.”

A punch of sorrow. “Jeremiah is falling apart because of me, isn’t he? Because of what the Citizens did to me?” When Zia didn’t respond, Gideon continued. “Key has informed Rona and me that we’re not to leave the island. She was explicit in her wishes, made us promise to remain until ‘it was all over.’” Gideon scoffed. “I don’t even know what that means.”

“You’re not alone in your confusion. Key never explains her visions to us, and always speaks in riddles.” And occasionally, mandates. “She is more entrenched in her ability than anyone I’ve ever known, but she assures us there is a reason for her madness.”

“Then let us hope that reason doesn’t include another death.”

Zia couldn’t agree more.

As she made a move to walk back into the house, Gideon stopped her. “Zia, I’d appreciate your discretion with regards to Jeremiah’s … extracurricular activities. Rukia and Rona: neither of them know he’s been fighting, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“What exactly do they believe he’s doing?”

His features pinched. “They believe—accurately—that he’s drinking, and—inaccurately—that he’s losing himself in women.”

“In women?” she growled. “Why would they think that?”

“I may have put the rumor about and he’s never denied it.” Gideon had the audacity to blush. “It was better than, ‘Jeremiah’s letting humans beat the snot out of him because he’s sad.’”

Zia grimaced. “He’s not sad.”

That got the Elemental’s attention. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“If you want to know, you’ll have to ask Jeremiah,” she said. “I won’t spill his secrets when he’s not ready for you to know them.”

Straightening, Gideon assessed her with calculating, molten-gold eyes, the intensity of his study unnerving. “If I may ask, what exactly is your relationship with him?”

It was the one question she’d been unprepared to answer. Zia shrugged, truly uncertain of how to explain the complexity of their relationship.

“We’ve simply enjoyed each other’s company. He needed someone, and so did I.”

The truth of it hit harder than she’d expected, the honesty of her response blooming within her soul. Lips curling softly, she glanced at Gideon, and found him meditative.

“I’m glad he’s found something of a haven in you.”

And so was she.

* * *

Morning dawned to an approaching storm: the whistle of near-hurricane level winds, sheets of rain pounding on shuttered windows, and the house shivering around her. Sehrin hadn’t returned that night, and she’d once again awoken tucked in Jeremiah’s protective embrace.

Curled into his heat, she savored their shared warmth and eagerly inhaled his warm sunshine scent. The pair of them were nestled together perfectly with her smaller frame encased in his larger one, fitting like pieces of a puzzle. In truth, she could’ve stayed hidden here for hours, simply enjoying his nearness. It just felt right to be with him.

But when Myko burst into the room, Zia’s chest constricted.

“Mom?”

She watched her son round the side of the bed. He eyed the still-sleeping male behind her with confusion. Zia offered him a faltering smile.

Though her vocal cords refused to work at first, she finally managed to say, “Yes, Boo?”

“Why is Jeremiah in here?” Myko cocked his head to the side, those ebony eyebrows pulling together as he looked between them. “Was the couch uncomfortable?”

“No, baby. Jeremiah and I—we’re good friends. And he needed a friend last night.”

Zia breathed a sigh of relief when awareness made Myko smile and nod. While it wasn’t the entire truth, it was a truth. If anything, she aimed for transparency with her son whenever possible, never believing a lie to be preferable to the truth.

In this life, truths were currency. While deceit pandered to the soul and appeased the masses, truths were the only thing that inspired real change.

“Okay.” And just like that, Myko accepted Jeremiah’s presence. “There’s a hawk on the porch. I think he has a broken wing.”

Jolting in her shock, Zia gaped with concern, rousing Jeremiah from behind her. Immediately acknowledging who’d joined them, he stiffened, his breath ceasing to tickle the sensitive inner curve of her shoulder.

“Myko was just saying there’s a wounded hawk on the porch, Jeremiah,” Zia explained, making no sudden moves. “We should probably go check on it.”

Then, to Jeremiah, Zia telepathed, I’ve told Myko you needed a friend last night. Please don’t say anything more.

While any immortal could receive telepathy, Elementals, vampires, and werewolves couldn’t respond. Only Raeths held the talent to hold a dialogue, though several vampires had developed the talent over time. In Zia’s head, there was only silence.

“Yep, we should probably go make sure your hawk is okay, little man.” Nothing but positivity fueled Jeremiah’s voice, even this early in the morning.

By the time they all made it downstairs, Zia was surprised the hawk was still there. The creature did indeed have a broken wing, no doubt from the massive winds that currently whistled around her home.

“What can we do for him, mom?”

Pure concern emanated from her son, and she felt a fleeting stab of guilt. “Baby, we can’t help him. He’s a wild animal, and no one in our clan can speak with them. If we could—”

Her words were cut off by the sound of an opening door. Jeremiah, unabashed, started outside as the wind died down and stopped blowing into their home on the Elemental’s command. Startled, Zia swiftly padded after him, ready to warn him against the hawk.

The moment he’d stepped onto the porch, the predator’s pitch-dark eyes fixated on the Elemental, its curved beak opening as if to squawk. A soft smile lined Jeremiah’s lips before he crouched only feet away.

Eagerly, the hawk stalked toward him, its unblinking gaze focused solely on the Elemental. In two steps, the raptor’s claws had clenched around Jeremiah’s forearm, balancing precariously as Jeremiah stood and ran two fingers down the hawk’s chest.

“Zia, I’d ask you to heal her wing, please.”

Bewildered, all she could do was follow his instruction. Gingerly stepping onto the porch after him, she slowly approached the pair.

“You speak with animals?”

A genial smile hooked Jeremiah’s mouth. “Animals and Elementals share a special affinity. They belong to us as surely as we belong to them.” The hawk’s intense gaze pivoted to Zia, tilting to better see her. “Shh, love, she’s here to help.”

Though she was suitably awestruck, Zia complied with Jeremiah’s request. She sent healing waves into the wounded wing, righting it with little effort. In the minute it’d taken, Myko had inched closer to them, his wide eyes slowly morphing into a wide grin.

“Come here, little man.” Jeremiah slowly crouched, bringing the hawk down to Myko’s level. “She’ll let you pet her. And you don’t need to worry about your power affecting her. It won’t work on avian brains.”

Appreciation burned in her throat as she watched her son gently stroke the mottled white, brown, and black feathers of the wild Hawaiian Hawk. Myko, like the precocious genius that he was, began spouting off his random facts about the birds while being exceptionally careful with her.

Zia had never been more proud.

“I’m going to fly her back to her nest, Z.” Jeremiah’s summer blues caught hers. “She isn’t far from here, and I don’t want another gust taking her out.”

“Of course.” Looking to her son, she added, “Back inside, Boo.”

Ushering the young Raeth back into the house, she was greeted by none other than the boy’s father. Sehrin, leisurely leaning against a wall in their foyer, wore a cruel smirk.

“Should’ve put it out of its misery. No sense in saving those who shouldn’t be saved.”

Zia bristled. “Is saving an animal below you?”

Registering her quirked eyebrow and general disdain for his comment, Sehrin waved a hand dismissively. “Waste of energy if you ask me. It’s like assisting those petty humans when they drone on and on about starvation, and natural disasters, and other ridiculous things. But to each his own.” Sehrin’s eyes flashed back to the door. “Your Elemental friend playing postman, delivering your hawk to its nest?”

“Yep!” Myko rushed to his father, wrapping his arms around Sehrin’s waist. “I’m so glad you’re here, father.”

Much to her disdain, Sehrin didn’t return the affection. “Well, I didn’t have anything better to do.”

Zia’s temper stirred inside her, and before she knew what’d taken over her, she’d telepathed Sehrin. Have decorum around your son, Sehrin, or you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of a boot out the door.

The Raeth’s gaze hooded, darkening at her threat. Don’t tempt me, woman. You know how much I enjoy it.

Deciding not to dignify him with an answer, Zia wrapped an arm around Myko’s shoulders, gently pulling him away from Sehrin.

“Come on, baby, let’s make breakfast.”

Unlike adult Raeths, their children required sustenance as often as a human. Their magic hadn’t yet fully developed, and their needs were similar to a mortal’s. Myko, like the other younglings of their clan, would remain vulnerable until they’d settled into their immortality.

It was less than ten minutes later that Jeremiah returned.

Eyeing Sehrin warily, the Elemental grabbed plates and flatware for the table just as Zia was finishing the pancakes. “You want powdered sugar, little man?”

A smile tugged at her lips. The ease of it all, the way Jeremiah readily slotted into their lives, like he’d always been there, made her outrageously happy. At Myko’s nod, Jeremiah grabbed the powdered sugar from the proper cabinet—that he himself had finished—and set it in front of her son.

Sehrin’s eyes were narrowed. Clearly, he’d noticed the same thing Zia had.

“So, Elemental, when are you leaving?” The comment held clear dark undertones. “Seems to me you’ve intruded on Zia’s goodwill long enough.”

When Zia opened her mouth to protest, Jeremiah smiled casually. “I’ll leave whenever Z wants me to leave. It’s her house, after all. Not mine. And certainly not yours, either.”

“While that may be true, my son lives here, and I’ve every reason to look out for his wellbeing.” Measuring Jeremiah up and down, Sehrin sneered. “I’d rather not have vagrants living with my family.”

Perturbed at Sehrin’s condescending tone, Zia glowered at him from across the table. Sitting among them was their child, and he didn’t need to be a part of his father’s temper tantrum.

“Enough, Sehrin,” she warned.

Myko perked. “What’s a vagrant?”

“Look it up, boy.”

The male Raeth didn’t take his eyes of Jeremiah, prompting him for a response. A pulse of power ricocheted off Zia’s psychic shields, and she stiffened, abruptly wondering if the Elemental had any form of mental protection. She hadn’t ever had to worry about it before, and the question was suddenly all consuming.

Smiling thoughtfully, Jeremiah explained, “A vagrant is someone who doesn’t have a home, Myko.”

“But Jeremiah does have a home, father.” Myko frowned toward Sehrin, forking the last bit of his pancakes. “He lives here. He even sleeps in mom’s bed sometimes. They’re friends.”

If Zia had doubted Sehrin’s antagonism before, there was no question now. The massive Raeth male sent a malicious wave through the room, as if finally realizing the threat to his casual arrangement. While they’d been intimate a couple of times after conceiving Myko, Zia had never wanted anything formal with Sehrin, and neither had he. He was simply the only outlet she had who was immune to her curse, and he was tolerable for short periods of time. Not exactly a great recommendation.

Now, it seemed, Sehrin’s misplaced possessiveness had been revealed.

“Is that so?”

Dripping with malice, Sehrin’s words were now positively glacial. Moreover, the man’s power scrubbed abrasively at her skin, an itch she couldn’t scratch away. In response, a wave of her own psychic energy washed out from her in a tide, reminding the offending Raeth he wasn’t alone in his strength.

“You’re about to step over a boundary you have no business in crossing, Sehrin,” Zia seethed. “Not here. Not now.”

Sehrin never took his eyes off Jeremiah.

Jeremiah registered the contest, but didn’t mention it, staying focused on Myko instead. “Hey, bud, can you go make sure there aren’t any leaks in the basement like I taught you? With all this rain, I’d be surprised if it was still totally dry down there.”

“Oh yeah!” Myko beamed. “I’ll check it out.”

“And then play games for a bit, buddy.” Zia covered her building tension behind a tight smile. “We’re gonna talk silly grown-up stuff for a bit.”

No need to ask him twice. Within five seconds, he was slamming the basement door behind him, leaving all three adults in an odd triangle around the dining room table.

Sehrin’s unforgiving gaze hadn’t once left Jeremiah. “Who do you think you are?”

“As you seem to have forgotten, I’m Jeremiah.” Offering his hand, Jeremiah smirked ostentatiously. “Wind Elemental. Handsome devil. Handyman extraordinaire. Take your pick; I’ve got more.”

Scoffing, Sehrin seethed, “You’re barely one step above those rubbish human mortals. Besides being a glorified leaf blower, what, pray tell, can a wind Elemental do?”

“I’d be happy to show you. Shall we step outside?”

“We’re not doing this, gentlemen,” Zia hissed. While Jeremiah had the good sense to cringe, Sehrin ignored her completely.

“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.