He hated this.
He absolutely hated seeing her like this.
And these visions … there seemed to be a lot of them. Too many.
Hoping no one was paying them any attention, Kiyo muttered soothing words in Niamh’s ear until her body finally grew still. He held her a few seconds longer, and she didn’t make a move to retreat.
Finally, he eased away from her.
Her cheeks were pale again, her expression wounded and frazzled.
“They’re happening too often,” Kiyo observed.
She nodded wearily. “I started to get more after Ronan … but these past few weeks. When Ronan was alive, I used to only get a vision every few months, sometimes only once or twice a year.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know.” Concern strained her beautiful face. “I don’t know.”
“What was the vision this time?”
She stiffened beneath his touch, drawing Kiyo’s attention to the fact that he still held her. He released her quickly but blocked her path so she couldn’t walk away from him.
“Well?”
Niamh stared him directly in the eyes. “There’s a child abuser here. At the airport.”
Frustration filled him. “No.”
“No?”
“Did we not just have this conversation back at the apartment?”
Looking away from him, Niamh sighed. “We did.”
“But?”
“It’s hard not to do anything about it.”
“But you have to. Niamh, what did I say about the darkness?”
Her eyes flew to his, guilt filling them. “I know. I know you’re right. But I can do something about evil people like that … and why do I keep getting the visions if I’m not supposed to do something about it?”
He didn’t know how to answer that. Instead he focused on appealing to her common sense. “Every time you veer off the right path, you put yourself in jeopardy. You put the gate in jeopardy. As hard as it is to walk away from these visions, you need to. For the greater good.”
“Do you really believe in the greater good?”
Surprised by the question, Kiyo took a step back. “I have to.”
“Have to?”
“If I don’t … then what the hell is the point of anything?”
She nodded, understanding. “I want to ignore these visions but I’m afraid of the guilt if I do.”
Yeah. Kiyo bet she was. She was carrying enough of that shit around. “Niamh.”
She seemed to shiver at the sound of her name on his lips, and Kiyo’s body tightened in reaction.
“You don’t understand.”
“Make me understand.” His tone was harsher than he meant.
“This one’s personal.”
“You know this child abuser?” His gut twisted at the thought.
“No.” She shook her head. “But … the first person I ever killed was one.”
His pulse raced at the implications. “Niamh,” he whispered her name, sorrow and anger beginning to fill him.
“No,” she reassured, pressing her hands to his chest again. “I got away. I was twelve. He was my foster mother’s boyfriend. I …” She broke off, and then her voice was in his head. I killed him. Accidentally. Just turned him to ash. Ronan found us and we ran. We’ve been running ever since. We had been running ever since … As her voice trailed off, she dropped her hands from his chest again and stepped back, her gaze pleading.
Kiyo thought of that sick bastard touching Niamh as a child, and he could find no sympathy or horror for the guy. Everything he felt was for Niamh. Everything he felt … was too much.
“I get it,” he bit out. “But no, Niamh. This has to stop. Every time you answer a vision … I think you lose yourself a little more.”
Tears glittered in her eyes. “I know you’re right.”
“Come on,” he said, his voice gruff as he grabbed his duffle bag with one hand and took hold of her elbow with the other. “Don’t think about it. One foot in front of the other. We’ll go to the lounge, we’ll eat, and then we’ll board that plane.”
Kiyo wasn’t fooled by her sudden docility. He didn’t know if it was weariness, confusion, or agreement that caused her to keep up with him, he just knew he wasn’t letting his guard down. Any second now, he expected her to try to slip away from him and go after whoever it was she had seen in her vision.
When she suddenly stumbled to a stop, his grip on her tightened. “Niamh,” he warned.
She shook her head, pulling at his grip as her eyes darted around them. Searching. “It’s not that,” she promised. “I feel it again.”
“Feel what?”
Uncertainty filled her gaze. “Someone’s following me.”13The 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.