Bound by Forever (True Immortality 3)

Each was painted in a different soft pastel. Cafés offered outside seating. An empty market square was probably filled with stalls and flowers during the summer. Bicycle racks upon bicycle racks suggested cycling was a popular form of transport here.

The road narrowed the farther they drove, the SUV handling the cobbles with ease.

“It’s pretty,” Niamh murmured.

Following the GPS, Kiyo took a left turn down another tight, cobbled road and followed it nearly to the end where the hotel was located.

The hotel wasn’t as pretty as its neighbors with its roughcast exterior but it had a Dutch roof that gave the building some interest. Noting the lack of available parking, Kiyo’s irritation spiked. He didn’t tire easily, but after what they’d been through and having not slept for days, he just wanted a moment to stop somewhere without aggravation. “Where the hell am I supposed to park?”

“Just park in front of the hotel. They might have valet.”

Niamh’s patient tone irritated him even more. She would be calm with her fae ability to recover from anything, including damn exhaustion. “At this shithole?”

“It’s a four-star hotel, Kiyo,” she scolded gently. “What did you expect? A towering modern structure in the heart of an historical town? Don’t be precious.” She hopped out of the car while he gaped after her.

Precious?

No one had ever dared to call him precious.

With a growl of annoyance, he followed her out of the car and into the hotel. Inside it was Scandinavian in style with simple, modern, comfortable midcentury furnishings. But in Kiyo’s mind, the European star system didn’t reflect what it did on other continents. In the States or Japan, this would be three-star, not four.

Not that he goddamn cared.

He was getting pissy about things that didn’t goddamn matter.

What he needed was a bed. Food first. Then bed.

Niamh was already using her mind-trick shit on the front-desk clerk by the time he appeared at her side. The woman handed over the keys to two rooms.

“One room,” Kiyo demanded.

Niamh turned and raised an eyebrow at him. He stared at her, noting that the golden freckles on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose stood out in sharp relief against the paleness of her skin. Perhaps he’d been wrong. Perhaps fae did tire after all. “One room?”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“And I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Many women would be happy to.”

She grimaced. “Well, you cocky bastard, I’m not one of them.”

Something like a lie lingered in the air between them.

Kiyo felt an answering tug in his gut.

Shit.

“Fine. Two rooms.” His hand clamped around hers as she took the key cards.

Her golden-blue eyes widened.

“But if you run from me, it will piss me off.”

She sighed, pulling her hand away only to hold out one of the key cards. “Can I ask, is there anything that doesn’t piss you off?”

“Sex,” he answered instantly. He shouldn’t have said it, but she seemed so unflappable all the time while he most certainly felt … flapped.

To his pleasure, he watched a pretty pink blush stain her cheeks. “Oh.” Her gaze dropped as she turned away from him and the dazed receptionist. “Well, I can’t help you there.”

Kiyo’s eyes lowered to her perfect sweetheart ass showcased superbly in tight skinny jeans and the long legs attached. He allowed himself a torturous second of imagining those long legs wrapped around him. With Niamh’s power and grace, he bet she was epic in bed. “Lies,” he muttered.

“What?” She cast him a narrow-eyed look over her shoulder.

He cleared his face of all expression as he fell into stride beside her. “I didn’t say anything.”

They took the stairs instead of the elevator, and he remembered the SUV.

Niamh shrugged at his reminder. “Just leave it. Someone will come and ask us to move it if they need us to.”

“Right. Then first things first, we need to call Bran.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“With the phone in my room. I know his number.”

“You memorized it?”

“Of course.” He cut her a mocking look. “Never rely on technology to remember anything of the utmost importance.”

She threw him an amused smile. “Wise words.”

As it turned out, their rooms were opposite one another. “Come into mine,” he said as he swiped the key card, “while I talk to Bran.”

The room was much like the lobby. Sparse, simple, and clean. Kiyo’s gaze drifted longingly to the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired. Gesturing to the chair at the small desk by the window, he watched Niamh settle into it before he grabbed the phone on the bedside table. Hitting the country code for Ireland first, he tapped in Bran’s cell number.

It rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“It’s me,” he said, trying to hide the bite of impatience. “Call me back. We hit some trouble.” He replaced the receiver and said to Niamh, “He probably didn’t answer because he didn’t recognize the number.”