The smell of bleach tickled her nostrils.
It was quickly overwhelmed by the more pleasant scent of earth and … something else. Like aged ambergris and smoke.
Fear flooded her.
She knew that scent.
The werewolf.
Her vision had led her to a girl in a music venue in Moscow. It was a vision of the girl being raped and then murdered. When she’d spotted the girl, and a human was harassing her, she thought he was the one she had to deal with. Until the werewolf arrived on the scene.
Niamh kept her eyes closed tight, feeling something soft beneath her body.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll explain everything once we’re inside. But first … apologies for doing this to you again.”
He was American.
At the venue she’d watched him approach the girl and could only make out a tall, well-built man with dark hair tied back into a top knot.
Her skin had tingled in awareness, the hair rising on her arms, and she’d realized he was supernatural. Watching him lead the girl through the crowd, she’d gotten the impression of broad shoulders, large, dark eyes, and a brooding expression.
It was only when she’d stepped through the exit door and sensed him behind her that she’d caught his base scent. Earthy, heady, like the soil after a rainstorm.
Werewolf.
The bastard had broken her neck. She’d healed quickly, waking up to discover she was not only in the back of the werewolf’s car and that she was the one he was after, not the girl, but that he’d done something to weaken her. Her limbs felt heavy and lethargic and as much as she tried to travel back to her hotel room, her magic wouldn’t work.
Then he’d had the audacity to tell her he wasn’t going to hurt her right before he broke her fecking goddamn neck. Again!
Niamh tried to twitch a hand, tried to focus on traveling from where she was, but it was even worse than it had been in the car. Her body felt so heavy and weak. She’d never experienced anything like it.
Realizing she couldn’t put off the inevitable forever, Niamh opened her eyes and found herself staring up at a cracked ceiling. There was a single light fixture in the middle but it wasn’t on. Yet warm light filled the room from various points. Lowering her gaze, she saw a doorway that led into a grubby-looking bathroom. Next to the doorway was, possibly, the world’s smallest kitchenette. Along from—
Her breath caught in her throat when she registered the walls.
Nailed to almost every inch were sheets of a silvery-gray metal.
Pure iron.
Feeling his eyes on her, Niamh’s flew to the right.
The werewolf sat, legs sprawled, arms relaxed on a worn armchair that might have been red once but was now a muddy brown.
He stared expressionlessly at her.
If it weren’t for his worryingly blank countenance and the fact that he’d kidnapped her, Niamh would think he was quite possibly the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. And that was saying something.
With his gorgeous fawn skin, large black eyes, broad nose, high cheekbones, thick black hair, and full-lipped mouth, it was hard to look away.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“My name is Kiyonari. You may call me Kiyo,” he replied casually, as if they’d met under normal circumstances.
With a name like Kiyonari, Niamh would guess he was Japanese. Japanese American if his accent was anything to go by.
“I reckon you already know who I am.” Her gaze flew to her hands. They were locked together with leather handcuffs but they weighed a ton.
Beneath the leather, those handcuffs were made of pure iron.
The wolf wanted to incapacitate her but apparently didn’t want to do any permanent damage. That should have been more of a relief than it was.
She’d had no vision of this man. It made no sense. Anytime she was in danger or someone she loved was, she’d always gotten a vision before it happened. Why not this time?
Who was he really?
With a smirk that belied her fear, Niamh pushed herself up into a sitting position with great effort. She had to rest against the wall behind the old mattress she lay on. Thankfully, it was the only patch of wall not covered in iron.
“You’re Niamh Farren.”
“So …” To her shock, she felt sweat bead on her forehead. The iron really did weaken her kind. It was her first experience with it. “Iron handcuffs, iron walls … Are you working for The Garm or the Blackwoods?”
“Neither.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Niamh found herself held captive by his dark eyes. “I work for Fionn Mór.”
An image of the huge six-foot-six, suit-wearing Irish warrior king filled her mind.
But if he worked for Fionn, why had this bastard kidnapped her? “I don’t understand.”
“I know what you are. I know the whole story. I’m an old acquaintance of Fionn’s. When you started lighting up all over the map, playing Superwoman, he and Rose tracked me down. Fionn is paying me to act as your bodyguard and, more importantly, convince you to stop bringing attention to yourself.” His expression was mildly disapproving. “You do realize the Blackwoods think you killed their heir and his two sisters?”
Indignation stung. “What? I didn’t.”
“No. Fionn and Rose did. The Blackwoods kidnapped Rose against their father’s orders. Death was the consequence. But the Blackwoods were under the impression Layton and his sisters were tracking you. And since they died in Ireland, they’ve put two and two together and come up with you.”
“Fionn sent you because he feels bad for setting them on me?”
“I don’t know. All I know is he’s paying me a lot of money to protect you until the heat is off.”
Although it took effort, Niamh grinned.
Kiyo’s eyes narrowed on her mouth and he glowered.
Ignoring his apparently perpetual bad mood, Niamh said, “Fionn does realize that the heat is never off? Not even for him and Rose.”
“Yeah, but they’re good at hiding. You seem to have made it your mission in life to bring our world to the attention of humans. You’re not only pissing off the Blackwoods and The Garm but you’re going to piss off the councils and the Consortium. Never mind every supernatural on the planet who enjoys anonymity from the humans, or the human governments who don’t want their human citizens to know what they know.”
Ignoring that—because Niamh couldn’t really argue when he was right—she contemplated him a moment. “Fionn hired you to protect me … so you decided to break my neck, kidnap me, break my neck again, and handcuff me in a room lined with pure iron. Yeah, that sounds like someone whose word I can trust.”
“If I’d approached you, you’d have traveled before I could explain myself.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re telling me you wouldn’t have suspected I was The Garm?”
“To be honest, I’m still not convinced you aren’t. It’s probably that neck breakage and iron cage thing I mentioned earlier.”
“I’m not The Garm. For a start, I work for no one but myself.”
“You just said you work for Fionn.”
“He hired me. There’s a difference.”
“Is there? Okay, then. Why you? What makes you so special? Not to be a bitch, but when there isn’t a plethora of pure iron in the vicinity, I can pretty much kick the arse of any supernatural who comes at me.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen that.” He pulled out his smartphone and began scrolling. “Bran has been keeping me posted on your exploits these past few months.”
“Whose Bran?”
“Fionn’s friend. A vampire. The information guy.”
Niamh’s head lolled to the side. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy. “What makes you so special?”
“I’m stronger than the average wolf. Smarter too.”
And more handsome.
Seriously, he was so bloody gorgeous, it was almost like staring at the sun. You couldn’t look at him without him blinding you with his attractiveness. But Niamh was never one to fall victim to a pretty face.
“Well, obviously, I’m going to need confirmation from Fionn and Rose that you are who you say you are.”
“That I can do.”
“And then they’re going to have to un-hire you.”
“I doubt they’ll do that.”
“Call them.”
Without a word, Kiyo hit a button on his mobile and then another, and a loud ringing filled the room. Loudspeaker. Niamh forced her eyes to remain open, trying to stay alert.
“I’m about to talk a very attractive blond and her equally, sexy-as-fuck boyfriend into coming back to my apartment, so this better be good,” a man with a thick Dublin accent answered.
“Bran, I have Farren, but she refuses to believe me until she speaks to Fionn.”
“You don’t have Fionn’s number?” she asked.
He cut her a dark look as Bran chuckled, having overheard.
“Let me patch you through. Say hello to my fellow countrywoman for me.”
Niamh smirked because it was obvious Kiyo had no intention of doing anything so congenial. A click sounded and there was silence, followed by a ringing.
The phone rang several times before finally someone picked up.
“What is it, Bran?”
“It’s Kiyo. Bran patched me through.”
“Have you found Niamh?”
Niamh’s eyes narrowed. Fionn had been stalking her for years, intending to use her to open the gate. Then her visions changed suddenly, and she realized Rose, one of her fae siblings (of a sort), could change the path Fionn was on. They were true mates. Niamh couldn’t tell Rose that for fear of changing her destiny, but she’d tracked Rose down to try to convince her that it was important she give her time and trust to Fionn to save the entire world—and Niamh herself.
Still, Niamh had only heard Fionn speak once, and it was during a time she’d rather forget.
“I have her,” Kiyo confirmed. “But she refuses to believe I’m here because you sent me.”
“Is she there? Can she hear me?”
“Yes,” Niamh spoke up. “I’m handcuffed with leather-covered pure iron, in a room filled with iron, while your dog sits guard.”
Kiyo bared his teeth at her.
“What’s this?” Fionn’s voice lowered, a dangerous edge to his tone. “That’s not what we discussed, Kiyo.”
“There wasn’t a better way to keep her in one place while I got her to trust me.”
“I doubt this is inspiring trust,” he drawled.
“Amen to that,” Niamh agreed. “Also, I can’t remember talking to this Fionn character,” she lied, “so how the bloody hell am I supposed to know if you’re really him?”
Fionn grunted. There was a rustling sound and then, “Hello, Niamh?”
She stiffened.
The new melodic voice with its American accent was familiar.
Rose.
“It’s me, Rose. I’m sorry if Kiyo has hurt you. That wasn’t in the plan and I’m going to kick his furry ass when I see him next.”
The said furry arsehole remained impassive against the insult, but she noted a muscle ticking in his jaw that gave away his annoyance. Niamh snorted with humor.
She’d know Rose’s voice anywhere, which meant he was telling the truth. He was her new bodyguard.
“There’s no permanent damage,” she assured Rose with a sleepy breeziness. “He broke my neck a few times, but he hasn’t let the iron touch my skin, so I guess that’s something.”
“Kiyo, you’re a dead man,” Rose said, sounding impressively scary. Well, at least Niamh thought so.
Kiyo looked unperturbed.
“So … may I ask why you felt the need to have me kidnapped by a werewolf who proclaims himself my bodyguard?”
“You weren’t supposed to be kidnapped,” Rose insisted. “We sent Kiyo to watch over you. Niamh, the Blackwoods think you killed their son and daughters. I’m so sorry. It’s kind of my fault.”
“Not really.” Niamh meant it too. “Those wicked bastards had it coming, Rose. And I don’t need your help.”
“You do. Niamh, you’re not being safe. You can’t keep using your magic out in the open like this.”
“What else am I to do? I stopped receiving visions about us, about the fae-borne and the gate … so I have nothing else to do but follow the visions I do receive. That’s what I’m doing. They must mean something. They feel different from my other visions. Angrier, insistent. Important.”
“Those visions are going to get you killed. Please. Just … stay with Kiyo for a while. He’ll take you somewhere safe.”
“And if I say no?”
Rose sighed heavily. “I’m sorry but that’s not an option. I can’t leave you unprotected. We’re connected, Niamh. We owe each other. I owe you. But more than that, I can’t let you be the one to open the gate. So please, don’t fight Kiyo. Just lie low for a while.”
Exhaustion was pulling Niamh under. It was a struggle to reply. “It won’t just be for a while. We both know this is our lives forever. On the run. Hiding. This werewolf you’ve hired, he can’t protect me indefinitely.”
“He’ll protect you until he’s sure you’re in the right frame of mind to protect yourself. He’ll protect you until we’ve found a way to deal with the Blackwood Coven permanently.”
“That’s your plan?”
“It wasn’t … but Fionn and I have decided they need to be dealt with. But in a way that’s orchestrated so it doesn’t look like the fae-borne had anything to do with it. That could take awhile. So Kiyo will stay with you. Please, Niamh, tell me you’ll allow this without a fight.”
That burn of irritation swarmed Niamh’s chest. “I will if your dog will take off these damn handcuffs and get me out of this bloody awful apartment.”
“You heard her,” Rose practically snarled. “Kiyo, do it.”
“Are you sure?” Kiyo narrowed his eyes on Niamh. “I’m not convinced she’s seeing things your way.”
“Niamh Farren is the sweetest soul I’ve ever met, Kiyo, and you are so lucky I am not in that room to eviscerate you for hurting her.”
Rose’s words eased the burn somewhat in Niamh’s chest. Guilt replaced the irritation.
Kiyo glared at his phone. “I think I might have the wrong Niamh Farren, then.”
Ugh, very nice. She gave him a dark look.
“Just do it.”
“Fine.”
“And let us know when you’re on the move. We don’t need to know where … we just need to know she’s okay.”
“Fine.” He hung up.
Kiyo stood slowly and Niamh drank in his powerful body. Beneath his T-shirt and jeans were very broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs.
“You don’t like her very much, do you?” she asked.
He walked toward the mattress. “I thought you’d have mixed feelings about her, considering it was her coven who killed—”
“That wasn’t Rose’s fault.”
Thankfully, Kiyo said no more. Instead he lowered to his haunches and reached out to take hold of the leather cuffs. A small key appeared in his hand as if from nowhere and he unlocked them.
“Throw them away, please,” she begged, feeling tears of relief sting her eyes.
He frowned but did as she asked, sending them soaring to the other side of the room.
The deep lethargy began to fade from her body, although the iron walls meant it wouldn’t alleviate itself completely.
“So, what’s the decision. Really?” Kiyo asked.
They stared at one another a second, and Niamh had the alarming feeling she could drown in his big dark eyes. They should have been soulless and dull considering he had all the warmth of an icebox. But they weren’t. His eyes glittered with intelligence and determination.
Her gaze dropped to his lips. He had the most prominent cupid’s bow she’d ever seen on a man. His mouth was beautiful and tempting as hell.
Pity, really, they’d met under these circumstances.
It took every inch of strength Niamh possessed, gathering it like a cyclone in the center of her being.
Kiyo’s eyes widened as he sensed her energy building.
But he was too late.
Niamh sent her magic out like two hands gripping his head and she snapped his neck without even touching him.
“Fair play and all that,” she muttered wearily as she crawled along the mattress past his now-unconscious body.
It took Niamh much longer than she’d ever have thought to crawl to the apartment door. Her body was soaked with sweat by the time she reached it, all the while worried the wolf would awaken and stop her.
But finally, her hand grasped the lock and the doorknob and it swung open. She fell out of the doorway and scrambled to shut it behind her.
Though still tired and weak, the heaviness left her limbs and she managed to push herself up to standing. She had to move at the speed of a human, but Niamh hurried as fast as she could out of there and used what energy she had left to start the engine of a car out in the lot.
She breathed a very real sigh of relief as the car pulled away from the apartment building.
Because Niamh didn’t care what Rose and Fionn wanted. They didn’t have the visions like she did. And if she didn’t follow her visions, then what was the point in this long, bloody awful eternal life? If the visions led to her eventual death, then at least she would have died for something and not been killed in a pointless act that had led to nothing.