Chapter 37 - Above Cursed Winds

From Luna’s shelter, a set of sliding glass doors looked out upon the crashing waves. Tides frothed against volcanic rock, waters simmering just beyond the drop-off. The lighthouse was within view, standing stark and alone atop the rocky outcrop.

The scene was beautiful, but the danger hadn’t passed.

As the handful of immortals watched, a boat of mercenaries moored on the shore. The heavily armored men jumped off into the shifting sands with guns drawn. Immediately, Jeremiah alerted Luna, who then ushered the mothers and children to the panic room made explicitly for this reason.

Jeremiah and Sehrin, both observing the oncoming mass of intruders, armed themselves.

“Sehrin, I’ll take the left wing if you take the right,” Jeremiah murmured, killing the lights in the shelter before drawing the armor over the doors. “If we attack as a unit, we stand better odds.”

A malevolent chuckle sounded behind him. “Pass. This isn’t my clan. Myko is the only one who deserves my protection.”

“And what about Zia? Isn’t the mother of your child worth protecting?”

“If she fails to protect herself, that’s her problem, not mine.” Sehrin shrugged, casually leaning a hip against the couch. “She’s served her purpose to me.”

The sound of shattering glass sounded outside, and Jeremiah had no doubt they’d begun targeting buildings. Growling, he glanced back at Myko’s father.

“You’re a coward, Sehrin. While you may claim to have power, all you do is hide behind words.”

Turning his back on the other man, Jeremiah checked the clip before clicking off the safety. Then he was striding for the exit, intent on keeping the invading force as far away from Myko and Zia’s clansmen as possible.

Daylight streamed through the drawn blinds, but Jeremiah quickly inched open the sliding glass door and shimmied out of the gap. Though he was indeed powerless, his gifts having been too strained to be of any use, the cold metal in his hand would suffice.

Jeremiah stuck like glue to the cement foundation of Luna’s basement, eyes keen for any sign of movement. By the time he’d gotten to level ground, he knew exactly where the armed men had gone: toward the dome.

He kept to the cover of the trees before reaching his destination. The screams of terrified mothers heralded his approach, and his heart kicked when he leapt into action.

Arriving behind the mercenaries, he unloaded three bullets—and took down three men—before they turned on him. Snarling, the remaining five men pivoted, loosening their clips on him.

Fortunately, Jeremiah was no stranger to evading an aggressor.

Flipping behind a doorway, he then fired several shots through the drywall, and the heavy thunks on the other side of the wall indicated he’d met at least some of his targets. He held his position, waiting to identify who remained.

Only one enemy. But Jeremiah had already emptied his clip.

The remaining mercenary came in shooting, leveling a spray of bullets towards where Jeremiah had taken refuge. The Elemental leapt into action.

He relieved the other man of his gun and a secondary weapon, before the guy had even realized Jeremiah was in the same room. No violence was spared—and it was only a minute later before he’d choked the mercenary into submission: an everlasting sleep.

A groan in the adjoining room snapped Jeremiah’s attention back to the present, and he crept closer. Peering around the corner, he was startled to see Nolan, Nero’s lieutenant, clutching at his chest and steadily bleeding. The Raeth was propped against a wall, his sword on the floor next to him. Around him were several men Nolan must’ve killed before he’d taken a bullet.

Skidding to the side of the shuddering man, Jeremiah asked, “What do you need, Nolan? How can I help?”

“Nero—Nero already knows.” A weak cough had Jeremiah cringing. “Luna is coming, but I could use another hand.”

Instantly, Jeremiah applied pressure, frowning at the silver-red stream that dripped out from between his fingers.

“Silver bullets?”

Nolan nodded, his eyes closing. “Yes. Hurts.”

“I can imagine.” Offering the other man a tight smile, he glanced around for anything to pack the wound with. “When is Luna arriving?”

“Here, Elemental.” The voice behind him called. “Let me see, Nolan.”

Immediately, the red-haired healer set to work on her clanmate’s injuries. With a gentle hand, she staunched the blood, then began the arduous process of curing the wound.

“What were they doing in the dome?”

“They were going to the air units, Luna,” Nolan winced. “The Raeth they have working for them is a Technopath.”

Jeremiah’s attention sharpened. “Like Remmus?”

“Yes, and he’s also a Shield and a Bane; I’ve no doubt he’s the one who psychically poisoned Remmus.” Gritting his teeth, Nolan attempted to sit up. “That’s why they caught me unaware. They came from the sea, under a shield, and that Raeth who accompanied them poisoned me before I could react.”

Luna’s ice blue eyes jumped to Nolan’s, and all of a sudden, she’d forgotten about the wound in his chest and focused her efforts on the man’s mind instead. Five minutes later, after a thorough cleansing, she decreed him poison-free.

“How do you know all this about him?” Jeremiah shifted beside him, clasping the other man companionably on the shoulder. “How can you tell what he’s able to do?”

“I’m an Amp, and part of that ability is to know what someone’s gifts are.”

“That’s why we didn’t sense him entering our lands,” Luna said. “Why he was able to get into Zia’s computer. I’d hazard a guess and say that’s why the Citizens are always one step ahead of us. This Citizens Raeth, he reads our texts, our emails. He’s everywhere.”

Behind them, the sound of footsteps had Jeremiah spinning defensively. Catching sight of the sovereign—and his second in command—he relaxed.

And still, he couldn’t look Zia in the eye.

Something connecting them—an invisible tie—wavered in response, and Jeremiah could have sworn he felt latent remorse filtering through the link. Everything within him said it was Zia, but there wasn’t any time to explore the strange feeling.

As Nero crouched by the wounded man, he softly asked, “Nolan, tell me something: did the people who attacked you come from the beach?”

“Yes, sovereign.”

“There was a boat that docked by Luna’s house,” Jeremiah offered. “A handful of men arrived with it.”

A switch flipped within the Raeth sovereign. One moment, he was calm and controlled, the next, he was on his feet and stalking toward the silver-blonde Raeth gifted in foresight.

“Did you or did you not tell me that there’d be no unanticipated attack from the sea, Kiyonne?” Barely more than a growl, Nero’s hostility rose with every word.

To her merit, Key didn’t cower. “I did, sovereign. I told you there wouldn’t be any unanticipated attack.” Then, swallowing harshly, she added. “I had, however, anticipated the attack.”

Everyone stilled, Jeremiah included.

Animosity poured from the male who’d stopped a yard away, his fists clenched by his sides. “You … saw … that there would be men arriving by boat?”

Key dropped her gaze to the ground, the silence speaking for her.

The sovereign barely kept his temper in check, agitation rife in his features. “You deliberately risked lives by making a decision to keep that information from me? Lie to me?”

“Sovereign, I—”

“Answer me! The truth!”

“Yes,” Key squeaked, taking a step back but finding herself against the wall. It was the first time Jeremiah had ever seen her look anything less than confident.

“You willfully placed my people in danger!” Shouting now, Nero stalked to within a foot of the cowering woman, towering over her as fire licked in his eyes. “If there had been loss of life, I’d expel you from this clan without a second thought.”

Seconds later, he spun and his fist met the wall beside her, splattering plaster a foot away from her shoulder.

Seething, he continued, “If you ever intentionally miscommunicate your visions to me in the future and place my clan in danger, you’re done, Kiyonne. I won’t stand for treachery, and these kinds of actions have no place in our home. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

“Sovereign, everything I do has a reason.” Finding her confidence, Key had the tenacity to look him in the eye. “You know this, whether you’ll admit to it or not. There is a greater purpose, a plan. And that plan will keep us alive.”

Gently, she reached for where his hand still was lodged within the wall, circling her thumb and forefinger around his wrist before gingerly extracting it and brushing off the dust.

Key simply said, “You need to trust me.”

Nero’s eyes softened, his mouth tightening before he asked, “How can I trust you when you’ve already shown your hand? You’ve already endangered my people.”

“Trust is so rarely given and once broken, can be irreparably lost.” Key squeezed his hand where she held it, her eyes turning sad. “Sovereign, don’t allow this to break your trust in me. We’re nearing the end now, so close to the finish. Don’t let this sway you from your path.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Nero had a field day teleporting the bodies of dead mercenaries to the burned remnants of the Citizens Saint Louis manufacturing plant. With so many dead or dying, there’d be no way to conceal their intrusion. It’d been the only option.

Having assured himself that Myko was alive and well, Jeremiah began the arduous process of assisting in the cleanup. Broken glass was plentiful, but there’d been no loss of life on their end. In addition to the scattered remnants of hurricane debris, few houses were completely untouched.

Nero, directing clean-up efforts, sidled over to Jeremiah and extended his hand. “It seems I owe you another thank you, Jeremiah.”

“For what?”

“For defending the Dome and helping Nolan.” A rueful shake of his head. “It appears that Sehrin took the easy way out.”

Jeremiah toed a piece of roof off the walkway. “Seems that way.”

A trickle of electricity tingled up his spine; the Raeth sovereign beside him glanced across the field. Following his gaze, Jeremiah straightened when he caught sight of the black-haired beauty closing the distance between them.

“Is Zia alright?”

“She’s suffering from an energy drought after the fight, but she’ll be right as rain in no time.” Nero’s sienna-brown eyes caught his. “Powerful, that one. Managed to grasp thirty some-odd men in a single showing, stopping them dead in their tracks.”

Jeremiah was filled with pride. His chest puffed up at the thought of Zia’s powerful ability stopping the enemy from entering clan lands. No matter where their relationship ended up, he would always be impressed by the woman.

Speaking more to himself than Nero, Jeremiah said, “She’s spectacular.”

Both men remained silent until Zia had glided to a stop before them. Though she nodded to her sovereign first, her attention slid to Jeremiah immediately after.

“Are you okay?”

He gave her the slightest of nods before breaking eye contact. Regardless of how she treated him now, he knew what she thought of him, and her bitter words had scored a hole in his heart. Better detach now than let the hurt fester. That’d never worked out well for him.

Jeremiah needed a distraction. “Have you checked to see if the technopath got into any tech while they were on clan lands?”

Nero’s eyebrows rose. “We haven’t. Tower’s out, so all our tech is down.”

“What needs fixing?”

Ten minutes later, Jeremiah was trudging his way toward the lighthouse, dodging piles of palm tree branches and clusters of insulation. He found his way between the wet patches of cement, brightened by the wayward sun that finally peeked out from behind the clouds.

It reminded Jeremiah of his dormancy. The wind, though it continued to curl around him lovingly, wasn’t his in this moment. Similar to an overworked muscle, his Elemental abilities were strained, and his gift would rest until it’d sufficiently refueled.

Jeremiah tipped his head back to ponder the height extending above his head. Sunlight reflected off the bright white paint, the yellow stripes clinging around the cylindrical shape. Glass had shattered above and fallen into the well-kept grounds that surrounded the lighthouse, shards spearing into the earth.

He slowly made his way up the circular stairs to the top of the lighthouse. Wind whistled through the broken edges; an entire pane had been shattered by the hurricane.

Far below, the tide had gone out, leaving the volcanic rock exposed and dangerous, seven stories below him. Jeremiah cracked a smile. Wouldn’t want to fall to his death so soon after he’d almost … fallen to his death.

Crouching, he flipped open the laptop, and a couple of clicks later, the clan’s system began rebooting. With a sigh, Jeremiah rested on his laurels, glancing out across the ocean toward the unknown.

In the week he’d been here, he had fallen hard and fast for a woman who’d torn his heart out. Zia had initially given him hope, and when he was with her, he felt alive. The woman had succeeded in finally breaking the stalemate he’d been stuck in since Gideon’s near assassination.

And then she’d broken him.

Lost to his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the crunch of glass on concrete, nor the creaking stairs that announced the imminent arrival of a visitor.

“Enjoying the view, Elemental?”

Startling from where he’d been watching the restart process, Jeremiah glared at Sehrin, instantly alert. The man looked no worse for wear despite the attack on clan lands.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Then, blandly, he added, “What do you want, Sehrin?”

A slow, malevolent smile spread across Sehrin’s mouth. “Oh, just wanted to come and ensure your wellbeing. After all, it isn’t every day a man finds his fated mate.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he responded after a brief pause. “I don’t have one.”

Sehrin’s mocking laugh made a shiver crawl over Jeremiah’s skin. “No? Perhaps Zia merely hasn’t told you yet. Or, more likely, she never intends to.”

Jeremiah bristled at the revelation. While he’d certainly established a connection to Zia, the link between them hadn’t announced itself as a mating bond. In light of Sehrin’s words, however, it couldn’t be more obvious. The connection to Zia was as clear as day.

Jeremiah instinctively grasped at it, the pulsing bond between them entirely unique and blissfully serene. For all immortals, a mating bond was sacred, something to be cherished, encouraged, and celebrated.

If that was true, then why had Zia cast him aside? And why had Sehrin alluded to the inevitable failure of their union?

The Raeth offered him a casual shrug, leaning out through the broken glass to get a gander at the rocks below. “Of course, you know about Zia’s curse. Why she won’t ever mate with you?”

Deep within, alarm bells sounded, but Jeremiah was too preoccupied with Sehrin’s bait and snare that the Elemental didn’t heed them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Zia’s mate is fated to die. Years ago, when she was only a handful of centuries old, Kiyonne disclosed her future: you will find love in your mate, and watch him fall while you lay broken.”

Jeremiah balked. “But if Zia’s mate is fated to die, then that means …”

“Yep,” Sehrin chuckled, almost gleeful. “Poor Jeremiah is on the chopping block. Perhaps that’s why she wanted you gone, Elemental. To save you from your inevitable doom.”

True horror fisted around his throat, and Jeremiah choked. Zia’s attempts to get him to leave could truly have been self-sacrificial. She may have been forcing him away for his own good. There was a chance, however small, that she hadn’t been guarding herself against Jeremiah’s weaknesses. That she hadn’t really believed everything she’d said to him just days ago.

“Regardless,” Sehrin’s voice sounded nearer, making Jeremiah’s attention snap back to the situation at hand, “you won’t ever get the opportunity to mate with her. Zia’s mine.”

The wayward claim served to prod Jeremiah out of his spiraling thoughts.

“She’ll never be yours.” Growling, Jeremiah stood, all six and a half feet of his towering frame coiling in readiness. “Zia deserves far better than the likes of you.”

Sehrin’s sneer rapidly shifted to a predatory chuckle. Putting his hands in his pockets, the Raeth tilted his head and sent Jeremiah a penetrating look.

“It’s odd, isn’t it?”

Jeremiah almost didn’t want to ask. “What?”

“That your vampire friend attacked you.” Playing the innocent card with dedication, Sehrin pouted, the look ill-fitting on his features. “Why would she do such a thing?”

An ominous sense of foreboding sat itself heavily upon Jeremiah’s shoulders. “We aren’t sure.”

“Luna said it was coercion, was it not?”

“Yes.”

Jeremiah’s hands shook the slightest amount, adrenaline already pumping through his blood as his fight or flight reflex began to kick in.

A rumble emitted from the other man’s throat. “You know, coercion is a rare gift, they say. Only a handful of Raeths born of destruction have it, and there are already so few of us to begin with.”

Taking a deep breath, Jeremiah eyed the stairs before refocusing on Sehrin. “Would you happen to know anything about that?”

“I might.” Sehrin’s hands stayed in his pockets while he lifted his shoulders in an ominous shrug. “It seems your people—the Elementals—are immune to both Raeth coercion and a vampire’s gift of suggestion when you’re not dormant.”

And then Sehrin asked the question that had him sweating: “But you are dormant right now, aren’t you, Jeremy?”

Jeremiah didn’t answer.

Instinctively, he knew where this conversation would end up. He knew what Sehrin’s end game was. Jeremiah couldn’t outrun the other man, and he couldn’t hide. If Sehrin truly had the ability to coerce, he was as good as dead.

“People drown in Hawaii every day, you know,” Sehrin continued. “Accidentally walk off cliffs. Sometimes you never find their bodies. And now that Zia has rejected you, well, we could say you’ve chosen death over a broken heart. After all, you nearly went through with it only yesterday. Failures like you always have to try a few times before it sticks, though, don’t you? How worthlessly romantic of you.”

“Do you truly think Zia would come to you after knowing what you’ve done?” To me, Jeremiah’s mind added. “She’ll never take you back.”

“Oh, I think she will.” Sehrin grunted a laugh. “Coercion does marvelous things, you see.”

Roaring in overt aggression, Jeremiah lunged for the other man. Before he’d even made contact, Sehrin merely lifted an eyebrow and said, “Stop.”

The power lacing the word was enough to stop the Elemental in his tracks. Hands fisted and heckles raised, his body froze mid-attack against his will. Every ounce of his autonomy had dissolved, leaving him putty in Sehrin’s hands.

“Well, what a handy trick.” Maniacal laughter glinted in Sehrin’s eyes. “While I’d love to stay and play, I’ve a woman to coerce.”