Chapter 5 - Above Cursed Winds

Emotional turmoil was a potent burn against Zia’s psychic senses, and it’d been building since the moment they’d left the conference room. Like Nero, she was well attuned to them, but his power far eclipsed hers in that regard.

Today, her Psyche ability was tugging her toward the Elemental whose memory was creating such a stir within her. Though she wouldn’t be able to see details without being closer—possibly even touching him—the emotional impact of whatever haunted him was devastating.

When she trailed Nero into the conference room behind the rest of the Raeths, she stepped into the fresh tension of a standoff that’d only recently come to an end.

Gideon, the golden-eyed Elemental who functioned as their monarch, was standing in the center of a loose circle. Every muscle beneath his olive skin was coiled and his eyes betrayed just how distraught he was. He was looking directly at Jeremiah.

Nero’s voice broke the ice like a hammer. “Shall we call the rest of our number? No sense in waiting when we can finish our conversation and be on with it.”

“Yes,” Gideon said. “Yes, let’s finish this.”

Anxiety made her skin feel like it stretched too tightly over her bones, but Zia sat by her sovereign anyway, the picture of composure. The wolves and vampires filtered in, taking their seats, and casting discreet gazes toward where Jeremiah lingered, his face still hidden behind his hand.

When conversation started once again, she was an eager participant, offering opinions and suggestions where she could. In fact, the entire discussion had transitioned from stilted and stiff to agreeable after the break and with whatever words had been exchanged with the troublesome Elemental during it.

Everyone was eager for resolution, and for what Jeremiah would find when he would dig deeper, but even when his name was spoken and they looked to the red-haired Elemental for input, he didn’t respond. There was no change in his posture or his emotional signature, like he held himself off behind a barrier.

The turmoil within him had abated, but only just, and not even his monarch next to him could prompt him into action. In fact, Gideon’s entire expression had changed, and Zia caught his focus shifting to Jeremiah more than once during the conversation.

With such a tumultuous psychic signature, the Elemental could only be trouble.

In the twelve hundred years she’d walked the Earth, Zia had experienced her fair share of toxic personalities. She was a Raeth with daunting psychological abilities, and being among humans nearly always brought her to her knees. The mortals’ paper-thin mental shields held no barrier against her talent, and even when she wasn’t trying, their emotions and memories assaulted her.

She’d spied murderers walking down main street. She’d caught thieves a turn ahead of their prize. The worst was that she’d seen abusive men treating their woman like princesses for the sake of appearances. It made her sick.

Though it was part of her gift, Zia generally refrained from manipulating or removing memories. Even if she had wanted to, she was born of creation, and it went against her internal moral code. For those who’d hurt someone, however, she made an exception.

Her abilities made her the perfect second to Nero. If a wayward tourist saw something they didn’t, her gift would allow them to walk away unharmed. If an immortal threatened her clan, she could erase the entire confrontation—or alter their intent.

By the time the meeting was over, she was about to be sick once more. With Jeremiah’s mental anguish pelting at her from across the room, Zia and Nero planned a hasty exit.

As soon as they could get away with it, they teleported straight into his living room, and both breathed a sigh of relief to be away from the Elemental.

“I told you it wasn’t going to be a sentencing hearing.”

Zia sighed. “That doesn’t change the fact that it’s my fault.”

Nero reached out and hugged her close. “Zia, no one foresaw this happening—not even Key. Now, we wait for Jeremiah to get ready and then make his way here, and then we dig into the facts. Let us hope that when he arrives, he’ll be slightly less agitated.”

“One can only hope.”

“We’ll put him in the condo by the lighthouse.” Nero released her and collapsed into the leather armchair, as he cast a rueful gaze outside. “He can’t get into too much trouble there, right?”

Though she knew it was a shallow hope, she offered, “Can he not stay in town? With all of our younglings, I think it might be better to keep the volatile away from the vulnerable.”

Nero’s grin stretched a mile wide. “Would the vampires or werewolves—heck, even the Elementals—send you to live in a hut three miles away when they had available accommodation?” Amused chastisement jaded his gaze. “I think not, Zia.”

“Fine.”

Having the Elemental underfoot might be difficult, but if it meant he could help her figure out what had happened, it would be worth it. She just had to hope she’d survive the fallout.