She hadn’t liked sleeping in separate rooms.
Back when Mam was alive, Niamh and Ronan shared a room in their tiny two-bedroom flat. Living at Siobhan’s was the first time Niamh had slept alone. It had taken weeks for her to get used to it, but she didn’t want to be a baby, and Ronan was fourteen now. She knew he needed his space. And eventually she liked having her own space too. Especially once her period started. She was glad she didn’t have her big brother around when that first happened two months ago.
She was kind of surprised it did. Part of her wondered if her body would work the same way as a human’s. In that respect it did, which Niamh thought was pretty rubbish, actually. Surely being a magical creature from another world should have come with perks like not having a period?!
Siobhan had been really nice about it, though. Siobhan was nice about everything.
Yeah. It had all been grand. Until now.
Niamh’s heart raced as her eyes stayed trained on the crack of light beneath the door.
About a month ago, Siobhan started bringing Miller around. They knew she’d been dating someone because every Friday, either Ronan babysat them or if he was out with his friends, Siobhan got a babysitter so she could attend these dates.
Then, after two months of dating the guy, she decided it was serious enough to introduce him to them.
Niamh had gotten a bad feeling off Miller from the moment they’d met.
He was overly affectionate with Siobhan in front of them, always kissing her, petting her, pressing his lips to her neck or patting her arse, and Niamh thought it was a bit much, considering they didn’t know him. Ronan had commented on how much he didn’t like it either.
But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at Niamh when he didn’t think anyone was watching. And he winked at her a lot.
Yet nothing was worse than the last week. He’d started touching Niamh. Nothing terrible at first. Placing a hand on her shoulder when he asked her something. Then on her lower back, when he sidled up to talk to her in the kitchen.
Then brushing his fingers through her hair when they were alone, telling her what beautiful hair she had.
Stroking her knee when he sat down on the couch beside her and Siobhan was in the kitchen feeding little Joe. Telling her what gorgeous legs she had.
Hot looks and compliments that Niamh understood too well. She’d always known things other girls her age didn’t know. Born with the sight, Ronan said. She’d seen things someone her age shouldn’t have seen, understood things about human and not-so-human nature that had chipped at her innocence. Or hammered away at it, really.
And she knew that Miller was after what was left of her innocence. She knew because anytime Niamh felt danger, the hair on her neck rose. Her pulse raced. Dread filled her tummy.
Since as long as she could remember, she’d had a sixth sense for danger and understood exactly what all those feelings meant.
And this evening, when Miller came over for dinner, her whole being went into high alert.
Looking into his eyes, she knew. Whatever sickness was inside of him, he couldn’t hold it back any longer and he was planning to hurt her.
Niamh didn’t know what to do.
She loved Siobhan.
And Ronan was happy. Finally happy.
Niamh didn’t want to ruin anything.
Perhaps she could deal with it herself and no one would ever know. She’d give Miller a fright and he wouldn’t want to speak of—
A shadow flickered across the crack of light beneath her door. Niamh’s pulse throbbed and she could barely hear a thing over the rushing of blood in her ears. Energy crackled around her and she felt it tingling on her fingertips, even her toes.
The doorknob turned.
Chest heaving, arms tightening around her knees, she watched as the door opened inward without a sound and then closed behind the tall figure as he stepped inside. She could see him looking at her in the dark. He wouldn’t know how clearly she could see him. Niamh had excellent night vision. He had sweat on his upper lip, and he was breathing too heavily.
He moved quietly toward her.
“I’ll scream.”
“What for?” he whispered as he lowered himself onto the bed. He reached out and placed a hand on her knee and everything within Niamh revulsed. “I’m not going to hurt you, little one.”
Lies.
“I just want to make you feel good.”
And then he lunged, covering her mouth with his hand as he attempted to push her small body beneath his.
He grunted as Niamh resisted, stronger than any human twelve-year-old could ever be.
And something dark flickered inside her.
Something foreign to who she was.
Something angry and vengeful.
Because she couldn’t imagine she was the only child he’d tried this with. Had he succeeded with others?