Chapter 32 - Above Cursed Winds

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.

Nero, his sienna-brown eyes shadowed with strain, had glanced at Jeremiah more than once since they’d begun their discussion. The Elemental could only guess at the sovereign’s intent.

Before long, Jeremiah’s need to pace got the better of him. Sehrin straightened as he passed, but made no further movement, dipping his head back to the book he’d teleported into his hands out of thin air.

Jeremiah retreated toward the pool table he knew was near Nero’s offices. Though his element occasionally—ahem—assisted, he was a rather proficient player anyway and enjoyed the game.

Perhaps he’d teach Myko how to shoot pool in the days to come.

Footsteps echoing against the white-washed halls, he entered the cavernous space lined with lounge chairs and bookcases. He glanced toward the coffee pot sitting empty on the western wall. While it was nearing mid-day, he’d be remiss if he didn’t—

Blinding pain ricocheted up his spine as an unseen force rammed into him from behind. Sent careening into the marble flooring, Jeremiah crashed facedown, his cheekbone cracking on impact.

Hating his vulnerable position, he adeptly flipped to his back using his element as leverage. Vision clearing, he saw a form leaping on top of him. He recognized her instantly.

“Rona!”

But the vampire didn’t speak, her shadowed eyes ice blue—a supernatural warning sign that heralded her attack and cautioned of darker intent. Caught off guard, Jeremiah froze, and that brief moment of hesitation cost him.

Taking advantage of his hesitation, Rona’s hand cinched around his neck, the other capturing his right hand. With a booted heel, she trapped his other hand against the floor. Hers was an unforgiving strength.

Jeremiah was pinned, completely at her mercy.

Choking as her grip tightened, he sputtered, “Rona—stop!”

As her fangs sharpened and any sense of reason abandoned her hooded gaze, the first tremor of fear iced through him. Beneath his breastbone, his heart thudded anxiously, and the siren song of his blood loosened any last tendril of restraint in the vampire.

Rippling pain pierced his neck only moments later as her canines penetrated his carotid. Jolting, Jeremiah struggled beneath her bruising grip, but the older immortal restraining him was far more powerful than he was. But this was Rona, his friend, and Gideon’s soul mate.

Why was she attacking him?

As the question surged into his mind, the answer died on his tongue. Rona had deliberately cut off his air supply, vital to a wind Elemental, and her restraint was so tight it’d begun to crush the joints in his wrists. Greedy pulls on the artery alerted him to her feeding, the escalating tingling in his hands and feet signaling the rapid blood loss.

If he didn’t loosen her grip soon, he wouldn’t be able to. Bucking beneath her, Jeremiah attempted to jostle her off him, but to no avail: Rona held fast.

Calling on his element was instinctive. The moment he asked, it responded, coiling around his body in a comforting embrace that caressed his skin. The second he aimed it to thwart the vampire’s attack, it swelled harmlessly about them, passive.

The vampire.

She was borrowing his element, stealing the powers that made him master of the wind. All vampires could temporarily borrow the abilities of an Elemental—assuming they’d drank enough blood from their victim.

And that rare occasion when a vampire took enough of an Elemental’s blood to usurp their element had just signed Jeremiah’s death warrant.

Horrified at his predicament, he shivered, the blood loss already compounding. Rona’s fangs dug into his flesh, the stabbing pain of it dizzying as he continued to battle against her grip.

With every inch he fought for, he weakened further. Black spots danced along the edges of his vision and warned of his impending demise.

Lungs burning, he struggled meekly, his mouth open and gasping for the air that seemed to hover just out of reach. Each frenzied beat of his heart slowly became more sluggish and the tingling in his extremities became tremors.

For an Elemental borne of the air, to die without it was his worst fear.