The creeping, crawling sensation that tingled all over her at the park back in Sèvres had returned as she and Kiyo made their way toward the lounge. Like before, the feeling wasn’t accompanied by a sense of danger, but it was still unsettling. She pulled again on Kiyo’s grip, and this time he let go. She turned, searching the faces of the people moving through the airport.
“Do you sense anything else?” Kiyo asked at her back. She could feel the heat of him down the length of her body.
“No. I just …” She frantically searched but the feeling was dissipating. “I don’t understand.”
“Niamh, if this is a trick—”
She spun on him in indignation. “It’s not.”
“What the hell is going on, then?” he snapped.
“I don’t know, you impatient furball,” she snapped back, ignoring the dangerous narrowing of his eyes. “I just know … someone is here and they’re following me. Or they were …” She trailed off in confusion as she searched their surroundings again. “The feeling is gone. It came as fast as it arrived.” A wave of nausea rattled up from her gut, and her eyes flew in horror to Kiyo. Something was wrong. They never came in twos! “Vision,” she choked out.
Images slammed into her brain with one painful instruction after another. Four stones. Four faces. Hers. Elijah. Rose. And Astra. Astra. ASTRA. Mount Fuji. Kiyo. A garden. Kiyo. Astra. Astra. ASTRA.
Shuddering as the images faded, Niamh’s eyes flickered open. To her shock, she found herself on the cold floor of the airport, huddled against Kiyo as strangers peered down around her in concern.
What the hell? she asked Kiyo in his mind.
His grim face came into clear focus and he bent to whisper in her ear. “Your vision transferred to me. It took me down too. I couldn’t hide us.”
Well, that was shit on multiple levels.
Exhausted, Niamh was grateful for Kiyo as he helped her to her feet. The people surrounding her included an airport security guard. Questions about her welfare came in several languages.
Calling on all her energy reserves, Niamh took turns looking every single person in the eyes as she assured them she and her friend had merely tripped and they were fine. It took longer than it normally would for the mind manipulation to take hold.
However, eventually it did, and the group wandered off in a daze.
Kiyo’s warm, strong hand came down on her shoulder.
She glanced up at him and flinched at his expression.
“What the hell did I just see?”
The urge to divulge the truth was great, but Niamh needed time to gather her thoughts. She was still reeling from what she’d nearly done to Meghan and her awful demise at the hands of a quite rightly pissed-off werewolf. Her head was muddled. And she needed to process the information from the vision before she could talk about it. “Not now.”
His expression darkened; he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. “There’s something about me in that vision.”
“Did you understand that part?”
He looked incredulous. “You think I would tell you if I did, knowing you don’t trust me enough to explain why we’re really going to Tokyo? I saved your life.”
Remorse flooded her. “I know that. And I’m grateful. But I’m just a job to you, Kiyo. And this … this is much bigger than you or me. I just need time to process.”
“Then why are we going to Tokyo? Why did I feel myself in the vision somehow? How the hell are the visions transferring to me?”
All valid questions.
Niamh’s head swam.
“And who the hell is Astra?” At her silence, he exhaled in exasperation. “Whether we like it or not, we are now a team. I’m getting your visions. There’s something there about me. If we’re going to get through this, we have to trust each other.” He stepped closer. “Never mind I took a blade for you … I have never told anyone what I am.”
She frowned in disbelief. “What about Fionn and Bran?”
“They guessed. But even they don’t know my story. I told you what I am.” He seemed to swallow hard. “That took a lot more than you think.”
A flood of emotions filled her. Emotions she didn’t quite understand. Emotions that pushed her to clam up when she might not have if he’d just given her bloody time to think! “Kiyo, I’d like nothing more than to have someone I could confide in again. To have someone fighting by my side. But we both know that this”—she gestured between them—“is temporary. I can’t give you everything. In fact, I think it’s better for me if I give you very little and you do what you’re being paid to do.”
“Being paid to do?”
“Jumping in front of iron daggers and such.” She lowered her gaze, unable to see his expression. “You saved my life because you’re being paid to. Let’s not pretend it was for any other reason.”
A terrible silence fell between them.
Then he practically growled. “That doesn’t explain why I’m getting your visions.”
“I don’t know why. And I need time to ponder it.” She pushed past him abruptly, her heart racing and aching at the same time. Niamh was alone. Pretending she wasn’t, that Kiyo was something more than a paid bodyguard, was dangerous.
She was all alone.
“What about the frequency of the visions?” Kiyo caught up to her, grabbing her elbow to stop her. “Niamh, that can’t be good.”
No, it wasn’t. “That’s not your problem. You guard me as we follow the clues.”
“It would be easier to do that”—his grip tightened almost painfully—“if I understood the clues.”
Niamh lifted her chin in an air of studied arrogance. “You’ll understand what I allow you to understand.”
Kiyo released her. He searched her face in suspicion. “What just happened? What did you sense in that vision that I’m not getting?”
He was too perceptive for his own good.
Niamh looked away and continued onward more slowly toward the lounge. All she knew was that the game had changed because the players had changed.
Astra was alive.
How she’d tricked Eirik, Niamh didn’t know.
But the fae-borne was alive.
And if she was still alive … the future was more uncertain than ever.
Niamh was quietly panicked that she’d endured one vision after another. Something wasn’t right. She could feel the wrongness of it. And she didn’t understand why, which was worrying in its own right.
Never mind that when her emotions were particularly high, she seemed to be unwittingly transferring these visions to Kiyo when he was holding her.
She knew he was frustrated and angry with her about not explaining the vision, but she might have eventually done so if he hadn’t pushed. Part of her wondered if she’d hurt his feelings by not trusting him after he’d taken that iron blade for her.
Guilt niggled at Niamh.
But then she couldn’t think of Kiyo having feelings that could be hurt. She had to remind herself that Fionn was paying Kiyo to protect her. These warm, fuzzy feelings she had toward him ever since he’d taken a dagger to the heart for her had to be quelled immediately. It was bad enough she had a crush on the wolf. Letting those feelings develop into anything deeper for a man who had inexplicably been alive for nearly one hundred and fifty years and had few bonds of friendship to show for it would be a gigantic mistake.
As a bit of an expert brooder, Kiyo seemed only too happy to let the silence fall between them. They ate quietly in the airport lounge as Niamh stewed over her concerns. The latest vision hadn’t shown her anything new from the last one. She still only had Tokyo to go on.
And Kiyo.
Somehow he was a part of this new future. She didn’t understand why.
But running away from him again wasn’t an option. She shouldn’t have in the first place.
The thought of Ronan and Meghan made her nauseated, so she threw it from her mind for now to focus on the present. By the time they boarded the plane, Niamh was mentally exhausted. Gratitude toward Bran filled her as a flight attendant led them to the first-class cabin at the front of the plane. They each had a suite in the middle aisle with a connecting window between them. Niamh was surprised Kiyo didn’t press the button to close the window to shut her out.
Once they were settled in, a man stopped by her suite to personally introduce himself as the senior flight attendant and welcome her on board. She tried not to blush or flinch when he called her “Ms. Wainwright,” the name from the passport Bran had supplied.
She waited until the flight attendant made his way around the cabin, stunned when one man impatiently waved the attendant off and bit out, “Go. Away.” That burn in her chest flared as the flight attendant quickly stood and apologized for bothering him.
Knowing how impatient and brooding Kiyo was right now, Niamh tensed when the attendant finally crouched down at Kiyo’s side, referring to him as “Mr. Kaneshiro” as he gave him the same speech he’d given her. While not friendly, Kiyo was polite and gave the man his attention. He even thanked him.
She relaxed and decided she really must stop assuming horrible things about him.
Not long later, another attendant appeared to offer them a choice of champagne, orange juice, water, or a mimosa. Niamh gladly accepted a mimosa, ignoring Kiyo’s inquiring gaze.
Of course, he took water.
She wondered if he ever indulged in anything ever. Other than sarcasm and fighting.
Determined not to spend the entire flight overly aware of the werewolf, her attention moved to the man who had been rude to the senior flight attendant. Who the bloody hell did he think he was?
Watching him sip his champagne, Niamh gave a flick of her fingers and stifled her laughter as the glass jerked sharply in his hand, causing the champagne to splash all over his face.
A prickling sensation shivered down her neck as she felt a warm breath at her ear. “I saw that,” Kiyo’s voice rumbled.
She turned her head slightly to find him leaning into her suite.
He was rude to the flight attendant, she answered in his mind.
His lips twitched with amusement, making her stomach flutter. “I know.” He gave her a slight shake of his head and settled back into his suite. “Just be careful.”
She nodded, not at all chastened, and frowned as he picked up the Stephen King book.
Niamh would never have guessed Kiyo was much of a bookworm, but clearly it was a form of entertainment he favored over the movies or music supplied on the flight. Niamh preferred a good book, too, but right now, she could barely focus on anything. She decided to watch a movie—a new sci-fi flick—hoping it might distract her.
Since they were on an evening flight, they were served a meal early on. It was surprisingly delicious and when the flight attendant returned not long after she’d eaten to ask if she’d like the turndown service (transforming the suite into a sleeping pod), Niamh worried she’d never be able to return to economy travel ever again.
She did like a little luxury in life and flying international first class was bloody nice so far. Using the bathroom to change into the brand-new pajamas supplied by the airline, Niamh thought of Ronan. He’d liked nice things too. They’d traveled first class a lot, but they’d never taken a long enough flight to travel first class like this. Ronan would have loved it.
Tears burned in her eyes and Niamh forced them back. Ignoring her reflection in the mirror, she left the bathroom and returned to her suite to find it was now a bed. She glanced over at Kiyo who had refused turndown.
“You’re not going to sleep?”
He glanced up from his book, his gaze moving down her body now clad in soft jersey pajamas that hung too big on her torso but clung to her hips. “Maybe later.” He returned to his book.
Summarily dismissed, Niamh tried to ignore the conflicting emotions rioting inside her. She slipped into the bed just as the cabin lights dimmed. Noting Kiyo hadn’t turned on his overhead light, she whispered through the window, “You can turn on your light if you want. I can wear the sleep mask.” She’d found a bag in her suite with a sleep mask, a pair of socks, lip balm, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, and a mini deodorant in it.
Kiyo didn’t look at her. He just whispered back, “Night vision.”
Of course. He was a werewolf.
Sighing at his monosyllabic responses, Niamh pulled up the duvet and closed her eyes. Now and then, the plane would bob against the airstream, and the sensation lulled her to sleep.
Ronan’s face gleamed through the dark of her subconsciousness until she was falling and falling toward him.
Her feet landed on the ground.
She was back in Munich.
Back in that apartment.
Back where she couldn’t save him.