Chapter 22 - Above Cursed Winds

Fear banged a heavy drum, reverberating around Jeremiah’s mind as he headed toward the exit with Zia in tow.

Using his gift, he cleared the air around them of the poison, desperate to aid her. But as she continued coughing, his horror only grew. Blood had begun to seep from the corner of her mouth, and her complexion had paled considerably.

As she wavered on her feet, Jeremiah gingerly set her up against the wall, frowning down at her as her breath rattled in and out of her shuddering frame. He desperately fought against the need to simply haul her into his arms and abandon what they’d come for.

Nothing mattered more than she did.

But even as the idea crossed his mind, she beckoned, “I’ll be okay … we just need to get out of here.”

She began coughing wretchedly, bubbles of blood welling from her throat. Her lips turned a darkened shade of red, and Jeremiah recalled Key’s prophecy just before they left.

A kiss is always a kiss, except when it’s not.

The words reverberated in his mind. At the time, they hadn’t made any sense, but now they might just save Zia.

The idea bounced around his mind until he was all but certain of it, and without asking Zia’s permission, he crushed his lips to hers. Though her posture stiffened, she didn’t outright reject his offer, too occupied with coughing.

And then Jeremiah’s gift began working.

His element responded readily. Drawing the poisoned air from her lungs, he guided the silver particles that’d lodged within her body to detach, stealing upwards at his gentle call. They moved out through her mouth and into his. As if by instinct, the silver merged into a ball at the back of his throat, hovering within him until he unlatched his mouth from Zia’s and sent them hurtling toward the ground.

Twice more he did this, and twice more, it worked.

On the third try, no silver remained, but Jeremiah was hooked. While she may have survived the poisoning, it’d been too close a call, and he needed her to be safe. Healthy.

Taking her face between his hands, he gently pressed a kiss to her forehead, trying to convey the depth of his emotion in the small gesture. She melted into him, her fingers coiling around his shirt and tugging him even closer.

“We have to leave,” he managed.

Jeremiah grabbed what they’d come for, linking his hand with hers before hauling her out of the apartment and sneering at the blinking red light above the doorframe that’d ticked off the apartment’s owner to their entry. Why they hadn’t checked for that originally was beyond him, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Before they’d even gotten to the base of the stairs, Zia paused, concentrated. Electricity tingled down Jeremiah’s spine, and within the next three seconds, they were weightless.

This teleport hadn’t held the subtle tang of Zia’s psychic energy. Nero’s signature was all over it—and when they appeared directly in his office, he was already standing in wait with Luna beside him. Before Zia’s knees buckled, Jeremiah swiftly secured her against his side.

“Luna, help her!”

Gently, Jeremiah deposited her in the chair before Nero’s desk, granting Luna access while still maintaining a grip on her hand.

Nero crouched beside her. “Silver?”

Nodding, Luna remained silent and continued pulsing healing power through her patient. Zia’s eyes closed, and the sound of her coughing made Jeremiah cringe. “The silver was fast acting. It—it affected me within minutes, sovereign.”

“Be still, Zia,” Nero cooed, his palm gently resting against her cheek. “Focus on healing.”

Sighing into the silence, Jeremiah caught Nero’s gaze and gestured to where he’d deposited their haul. “We grabbed the hard drive of the computer, and photographic evidence of each of the Peace Accords members. All of us have been photographed, Nero.”

Handing him the envelope, he waited as the sovereign silently regarded each of the images contained within, grimacing as the other male did.

“All of us. Especially Isaiah, they have a sinister fixation.”

“That’s disturbing on multiple levels,” Luna remarked offhandedly. “Not only because there’s photographic evidence, but because you were all photographed without your knowledge.”

Jeremiah ground his teeth. “We’ll have to inform everyone else, Nero.”

“And we will,” came his ready reply. “But only after we’ve thoroughly checked over the hard drive and discovered any possible leads or scheduled attacks. No sense in going into it half-cocked and unable to field questions.”

Beside Jeremiah, Zia’s head leaned against his thigh, a sure sign of her lethargy. Gently, his fingers threaded through her hair, delicately cupping his hand against her cheek.

That was when Key made her entrance. “Seems you got the message, Elemental.”

“What message?” Nero frowned.

Key smirked. “A kiss is always a kiss, except when it’s not. Worked out well, did it?”

“You knew?” A thread of anger incited inside him, old wounds reopened. “You knew this would happen to Zia and yet you did nothing to stop it?!”

“Of course I did, Elemental. That’s the reason I told you about the kiss.”

Jeremiah physically staggered backwards before Nero jumped in. “Clarify, Key. Now.”

At the note of warning in her sovereign’s voice, Key had good reason to pale. “Jeremiah found another way to remove silver from the host.” She chuckled. “His kiss works wonders, doesn’t it, my fine friend?”

Luna was the first to catch on. “Ah, I see.”

Jeremiah pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. The last thing he needed was to be the center of whatever Key seemed to be suggesting.

“Can I take Zia home now?”

Luna’s piercing gaze swung Jeremiah’s way. “Soon. But first, check your phone messages. Gideon and Rukia need you.”

Muttering curses, he plucked his phone from his pocket, glaring at the screen when it showed twelve missed calls from the pair of them and more than two dozen text messages.

Stepping away, he shut the door to Nero’s office behind him and walked into the dome. Gideon’s messages progressively went from irate to concerned, then back again, the yoyo-ing emotions leaving Jeremiah snarling.

Rukia’s single voicemail, however, was ruthless. “Jeremiah, sweet of you to send me to voicemail, you jerk. I hope you’re drowning yourself in the local surf and not a bottle. If I find out that you’ve touched one drop of alcohol, I swear to you that I’ll skin you and let the sharks feast on whatever remains of your ginger soul.” A dark chuckle. “Also, I love you. Allegedly. I hope you’re enjoying yourself, windbag.”

Smiling despite himself, he glanced at the rest of the text messages again, but chose not to respond. Their group text, created over ten years ago when cell phones were still a relatively new invention, had become more and more just Rukia and Gideon going back and forth on trivial matters.

As soon as Gideon had died, Jeremiah had archived the string of messages. Something had changed that day in him, and he still couldn’t figure it out. He needed the distance to clear his head, and Hawaii had been just the ticket.

Waltzing back into the sovereign’s office, Jeremiah leaned against the doorframe and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops.

“Can we go now?”

Sighing, Luna gave Zia the once over before commanding the room. “Sleep. Take it easy. Have Myko take care of you tonight. Maybe even the tall redhead.”

A soft smile touched Zia’s lips before she whispered, “I’m ready to go, Jeremiah.”

He needed no further prompting. He carefully swung her into his arms and cradled her into his chest, satisfied with her startled gasp.

“No complaints. No excuses.” He eyed Nero. “Ciao.”