Chapter 3 - Above Cursed Winds

Zia’s fingertips drummed nervously on the cool marble. Her friends had gathered in her half-finished kitchen for support, but her heart still thumped in her chest while she waited for her sovereign.

In a few minutes, she’d have to go before the firing line and explain the nature of the breach. The heads of every immortal breed would learn that the Peace Accords’ documentation had been compromised. Addresses for most major vampire Houses, werewolf dens, the Elemental community in Paracel, and tens of Raeth clans were now in enemy hands.

Every failsafe measure she had created for keeping the information confidential and secure had failed. She couldn’t account for how the perpetrator had accessed the information, nor how they got onsite. Zia was about to face an immortal jury and tell them she had no answers or excuses.

It was her failure, and the guilt was eating her alive.

She had no idea what punishment the council of the Peace Accords would decide for her, but she had made arrangements in case they demanded her life. The scale of the breach was unprecedented, she would go to her death with no protest—but first, she’d beg to make it right. She would hunt down the perpetrator to the ends of the earth, even if it meant walking into the Citizens’ clutches.

Luna’s voice dragged her out of her spiral. “Maybe we can wrangle Nero into installing your cabinets at some point this week.”

Zia frowned, then glanced around her kitchen. Cabinetry was installed, but no doors had been attached, and no plates or cups would be loaded on the open shelves until then. Utensils spilled out of an open cardboard box on the dining room table only yards away, and a pile of paper plates were sitting beside it. Building dust powdered over unused countertops. A broom and dustpan lingered, unused, in a corner where she’d promised herself she’d hang up pictures. She simply hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

Now, it seemed like she never would. Compared to her mistake, everything seemed trivial. Her life would end in a mess, literally and figuratively. And she had no one else to blame but herself.

Zia returned her attention to the women across from her. Luna and Key sat at barstools around the island, diligently attempting to distract her from spiraling thoughts. Luna’s shock of crimson hair tumbled down her shoulder, the healer’s delicate hands braiding it as she spoke.

“Where is Myko?”

“Probably halfway between here and Maui.” A tense laugh escaped Zia. “Who knows at this point?”

“We promised you we’ll watch over him, and we will, no matter what happens,” Kiyonne offered.

Amid the deep honey color of her eyes, shards of white interspersed the golden hues, the streaks of light indicative of the Raeth’s near constant use of her powerful ability.

“Not too close, Key,” Zia reminded her, the chastisement soft but firm. “No spoilers for his future.”

“As I’ve very often been told. By everyone. For the past eight years.”

Zia was reminded of her own brush with Key’s foresight ability, of what the other woman had revealed about her future. The bare bones of the foresight—the glimpse into what would come to pass—had been a scant handful of words, but it’d effectively ruined any chance Zia had at finding happiness.

Why search for it when she already knew it would be doomed in the end? Key’s words had stomped out her hope for the future before she’d barely begun to dream of it, and the revelation had jaded her when she hadn’t been ready for it.

Sighing, Zia pressed her thumbs into her temples and closed her eyes. Following the Heat, it’d been one thing after the other, and she’d been spiraling beneath her clan’s escalating needs.

The stolen list was only the latest in a tragic slew of problems. It was, however, the most pressing, and had left only questions in its wake. She’d have to find out how it had happened, and more importantly, what their enemies planned to do with the list.

The Citizens had already proven themselves malicious. The terrorist organization targeted immortals in extremely violent attacks, whether small or large scale. Initially, it’d been personal, the loss of life limited to one immortal here or there.

In the last year, they’d escalated their tactics, targeting entire groups of people when they were at their weakest. It’d been a miracle the House they’d attacked in New York had escaped without casualty. The House run by the vampire councilman Lucius, by contrast, had not been as fortunate, sustaining significant loss of life.

Beside her, a displacement of air signaled Nero’s entrance. He gave Luna and Key a nod, then turned his attention to her, assessing her state.

“I thought as much. Listen to me, Zia: this wasn’t your fault. We aren’t going to a sentencing hearing. We speak about what we know—and discuss how to fix it.”

“Only you could be so positive about this, sovereign,” she replied.

All Zia wanted to do was curl up and let her sovereign take care of it for her. But she couldn’t—not only because this was her mess, but because she wasn’t a pushover. She was Nero’s second for a reason.

“Ready?”

She squared her shoulders. “As I’ll ever be.”

Just before the pair of them became weightless, Zia caught Key’s eye, which momentarily flashed entirely white. It was an indicator that the foreseer’s ability had taken the front seat. A smile on her friend’s face teased that the other woman held a secret that Zia could only hope to one day know.

They touched down in Nina’s territory on the outskirts of Lexington. While she’d been there a handful of times before, entering the home now, in light of what had happened, was unsettling.

An ominous sense of foreboding curled around her shoulders and weighed down every step. Nero strode toward the open double doors where voices argued and spoke over one another.

Every voice went silent when they walked into the room.

Too many eyes jumped to her, some narrowing with irritation, some remaining amicable. Despite the open criticism, Zia made no move to cower from the looks she received and followed her sovereign soundlessly toward a couple of chairs near a window.

Instantly, the double doors behind them slammed shut of their own accord.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” Nina greeted, and Zia was grateful that her ice-blue gaze held no animosity. “While I’d typically say introductions are in order, given our situation, time is of the essence. Nero, we need to know what happened.”

A nod from Zia’s sovereign. “We discovered the breach only hours ago. When Zia accessed the computer containing the stolen data, she noticed it was powered on when she customarily keeps it off. Our technopath, Vik, was able to confirm which documents had been recently downloaded. The list was among them.”

“What else was taken?”

Zia’s attention refocused on the intimidating Raeth across from her. Zeke had lived sixteen centuries and was the oldest being in the room. The oppressive aura of power around him assured no one would mistake his expansive abilities.

Clearing her throat, she answered, and was proud that her voice didn’t shake.

“A handful of documents concerning our own clan’s security measures. We’ve already adjusted to ensure our processes are not vulnerable and any gaps have been covered. However, we’re unsure if they accessed the virtual Accords documents. Our technopath ran out of steam before she could verify.”

“How did this happen?” Gideon, the Elemental monarch, asked. “We were assured this information would be safeguarded.”

Nero shifted uneasily beside her. “It should have been impossible to steal. The computer wasn’t connected to the internet, was password and fingerprint protected, and was only accessible from inside Zia’s office in the heart of my own territory. It would’ve been easier to steal a Van Gogh than waltz into my clan lands, bypass four hundred obsessively protective Raeths, and download it under our very noses.”

The sentiment was seemingly echoed on the faces of those opposite them. Only one person outright sneered at her.

From his energy, he was clearly an Elemental, but they’d never been introduced. Knowing what she did of the other breed, she’d take a guess and say he was Jeremiah.

If Zia looked past his scowl, she’d classify him as handsome. His strong jaw was shadowed by a somewhat ill-kept scruff, as if he’d gone a few days without trimming it. Tempting lips, hidden beneath the russet stubble, turned down at the corners as he regarded her, as if he’d had better things to do today than listen to the processes of the immortal nations’ security.

Arrestingly blue eyes were locked on hers, and within seconds, Zia couldn’t help but look away. Too much pain seemed to swell within their depths. Even this far away, his turmoil battered against her without cessation. Shoulder-length red hair had been tied at the back of his head, though a strand or two had freed themselves and framed a face too alluring to resist.

And then he opened his mouth. “Since when did we allow such negligence in safeguarding our most crucial information?”

Beside her, Nero’s gruff sound conveyed just what he thought of the charges. He shifted as if to respond, but she had never let him fight her battles.

“The fault was mine. I thought we had done everything in our power to ensure security for the sensitive information” Zia replied, guilt welling behind her words.

“Except it was stolen regardless,” he snapped back. “Seems to me that, despite your confidence, all you have are convenient excuses.”

Zia swallowed her pride. “I’ve already admitted fault. We’re here to fix the issue before it can snowball.”

Scoffing once more, Jeremiah linked his fingers and cupped them behind his head while maintaining unrelenting eye contact. “There’s no fixing this, Raeth. The Citizens have the list, and they’ll use it; there’s no way to undo it. Your ineptitude may very well cause the deaths of scores of children and vulnerable immortals.”

Zia blinked away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Everything he was saying was true, and it’d been echoing in her mind since she’d discovered the breach. No matter which way the story was spun, the reality of the situation remained: losing the list equaled an unparalleled threat.

She clenched her fists as fine tremors shook her arms. The same despair she’d been battling all morning swiftly rose up once more, like icy fingers around her throat.

When her voice failed to find purchase, Nero spoke instead. “We’re well aware of the consequences, Jeremiah. Instead of pointing fingers, let’s collaborate on how to protect the innocent.”

Which didn’t include her, Zia’s mind offered.

“We strategize our defense on the basis of what they’ve done in the past,” Zeke said. “They attempted a physical breach with ground forces, and then escalated to experiments with air poisoning. If anything, we attempt to safeguard our homes against both threats.”

Heads nodded around the circle, solemn faces accompanying the description. Isaiah asked, “Which addresses were listed?”

“Every vampire House that we’ve collected data on so far had physical addresses listed. Blaede and Osé clan lands had street addresses, too. The Danada and Sylth clans had only the states of Ontario and Utah listed, respectively, and only general locations were noted for the werewolf dens, with several exceptions. Paracel was the final listing, as Lucius’ new House was yet unlisted by his own request.”

“And thank fates for that,” came Lucius’ dark reply. “I can’t move my House again.”

“We’ve got a hundred Houses on that list,” Drake began. “If Kane, Rona, Luc, and I split up, we can meet with every leader within the next few weeks. Given the fact that we’ve no idea how we were hacked, I’m hesitant to send emails or speak over the phone.”

“Valid,” Nina replied.

Aidan spoke quietly with Nova before announcing, “The alphas and I will manage the dens. Though Remmus has already gone through our tech, I’ll have Nova’s team split up and run through the security onsite at each location.”

“We will take precautions to ensure our own safety,” Drake said, “but that won’t address the breach on your territory, Nero. If we’re to trust the confidentiality and security of our Accords documents, then we need to rectify it.”

“Agreed,” he sighed, “but our technopath is still suffering from energy drought post birth, and checking the download nearly overloaded her. She won’t be able to assist.”

“The same with ours,” Isaiah confirmed from across the room.

All eyes shifted to Nina, but for the first time, her expression remained guarded. “While I understand that technopaths are rare, my address was one that was compromised, and we’ve children to protect.” She shook her head apologetically. “I can’t afford to lose Remmus. Not now.”

Zeke added, “There has to be someone else we can send. An impartial party that can verify the validity of the threat, secure your network, and confirm what else they could’ve possibly stolen. You and Zia may believe everything was buttoned up, Nero, but bringing in someone who’s unbiased might help identify the error—and prove your innocence.”

Something in Zia’s chest clenched at the word.

“If they’ve somehow accessed the Accords treaty texts themselves, we could be in trouble,” Drake added. “The language we used within them could indicate any manner of weakness they could wield against us.”

Nero nodded. “Agreed. We must make it a priority, but we can’t alert the masses; a panic would ensue if they were to learn of our vulnerability.”

“Is there anyone else who could dig that deeply into security and technology?” Zia asked. “If the vampires and werewolves need all their resources, and the technopaths are unavailable, then …”

A pop sound echoed across the room. Instantly, Zia’s attention jerked to the red-haired Elemental blowing yet another gum bubble as she scowled at him. His obnoxious yellow shirt only called attention to the fact that he couldn’t be bothered to care.

Narrowing her eyes at the irritating man, she glanced around the curiously quiet room, finding that gazes were centered on one man … Jeremiah.

No.

Little could convince her the irksome Elemental would be someone she could work with. He’d cast sarcasm and spite her way from the moment he’d entered, but everything he had claimed was true.

“Paracel has been a known location for years,” Gideon said, “and we’ve already secured our borders. Jeremiah has a background in tech and runs our security—plus, he’s got contacts in high places. He’d make a good impartial party.”

Nothing about Jeremiah looked impartial to Zia.

Nero, on the other hand, seemed amenable. “I’d be happy for the help. It’d be good to have a second—or third—set of eyes on it.”

“Are we certain this was the Citizens?”

Everyone froze at Isaiah’s question. If Zia hadn’t been holding herself so stiffly, she might’ve gasped. Beside her, Nero sat up taller.

“Are you accusing my clan of something, Isaiah?”

“No one has mentioned the possibility that this could be someone other than the humans.” Isaiah shrugged. “While I agree that they are the most likely culprits, we shouldn’t blind ourselves to every other option.”

Resignation stole through Zia, and she could sense it deep within her sovereign. While he grappled with ramifications of the charge, she said, “It’s a valid point. Nero and I—and whomever this delegation elects to send to us as an impartial party—will exhaust every avenue.”

It appeared to appease most of the officials present.

“Assuming it is the Citizens,” Nina started, “has Key seen anything that would tip us off toward what they’ll do with the list, Nero?”

He shook his head no, adding, “But Key doesn’t always share her foresight with me. There’s a method to her madness, and I trust her.”

He looked as though he wanted to say more, but ultimately, he held his tongue. And that was, perhaps, for the best. Key’s foresight was both potent and intoxicatingly alluring, at least when it didn’t involve death and destruction. In Zia’s case, it had held both.

“If we find that it was the Citizens, when could we expect them to launch an offensive play?” Quiet as a mouse, Lucius’ mate, Circe, questioned the room. “Timing would affect all of us, but many of the affected locations have children to think about.”

Time stood still as blank gazes met hers from around the room, no one able to hazard a guess.

Until Gideon spoke. “It was about a year after they’d discovered Paracel that they delivered their message.”

At the sentiment, more than a few among them shifted uncomfortably in their chairs. It went unsaid that the casualty there had been Gideon himself, nearly assassinated while saving the lives of innumerable people.

Only a miracle had brought him back.

Zia couldn’t imagine watching her sovereign die. Sure, she’d seen him challenged for his right to rule their clan, but Nero was one of the most powerful people on the planet. She’d never witnessed him struggle to win.

Her eyes sliced toward Jeremiah once more. The air Elemental was staring at his hands, his expression equal parts furious and forlorn. For a fleeting moment, she almost felt sorry for him.

As if sensing her gaze, arrestingly blue eyes glared bullets through her, and all sense of empathy disappeared. Jeremiah was definitely not a man to be pitied.

“If they use the air conditioning units to vent the silver or sunlight particles, will we be able to count on you, Jeremiah?”

Nina’s question captured his attention, and Zia breathed a soundless sigh of relief. Something about the intensity of Jeremiah’s gaze unnerved her.

A casual shrug. “I suppose.”

When he snapped his gum again, Nina’s eyes thinned, indicating her patience had waned. “Jeremiah.”

The underlying threat in her voice had the red-haired man’s posture stiffening. “Yes, Nina?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer a keener answer.” Barely contained in each word was a primal threat that had ice frosting up Zia’s spine. “My twins, my babies, are barely teething, and we’ve a hundred more younglings who now live within walking distance of my home. My clan has never been under more direct threat than what the Citizens poses now, and we’re vulnerable in a way we’ve never yet had to defend.”

Her eyes turned glacial. “You’re the only immortal who has experience clearing the air of their poison, and the only one we can depend upon in an emergency. Jeremiah—” his name was a hiss on her lips, “—either you lose your flippant attitude with regard to my children’s lives, or I’ll be forced to remind you exactly how powerful my abilities are.”

An immediate and intimidating silence permeated the room. It coiled around Zia like a noose, its pervasive tentacles cinching tight along the column of her throat and suffocating her with every inhale.

Nina had just threatened him.

The most powerful female Raeth ever to have walked the Earth had just lost every ounce of her neutrality and uttered the words no one in their right mind ever wanted to hear.