A stream of Japanese hit their ears from behind the bar.

Kiyo turned to the woman and replied in English, “We’re not here to cause trouble.”

Glancing at Niamh, the woman sneered. “The mahoutsukai has a troublesome blood scent.”

“And a human would know that how?” Kiyo stepped up to the bar. “You’re a miko.”

The woman glared. “No more.”

“We’re here about an ancestor of yours.” Niamh sidled into Kiyo’s side. “Your—”

“Mizuki.” The bartender rolled her eyes. “Tourists. They all want to know about Mizuki. Do I look like tourist guide to you?” she snapped. “You want to know things, you go to museum. They took everything from my family. It all there.”

“Who took everything?” Kiyo asked.

“The state. Of great cultural importance, they said. And we have no money,” she relayed, the bitterness clear in her eyes. “So we sell to state and now they charge tourists to view my family’s things.”

“I’m sorry,” Niamh offered sincerely.

The woman frowned, studying her carefully. “You mean that.” Heaving a sigh, she grabbed a napkin and a pen and wrote characters on it. She slid the napkin to Kiyo. “The address. It in what used to be Mizuki’s home. There is whole room of her things.”

“Arigato, miko-san.” Kiyo gave her a grateful nod as he took the napkin.

“Why do you want to know?” She leaned over the bar. “You are not just tourist, are you? Strange mahoutsukai and her werewolf.”

“I’m fascinated by women like me,” Niamh replied with a smooth lie. “Mizuki is one of the most famous miko in Japan. I talked my boyfriend into taking me to Osaka just to learn about her.”

Kiyo plastered on a comical expression of said beleaguered boyfriend and shrugged as if to say, “What can you do?”

Mizuki’s descendant bought it. “Fine. Now go before the vamps decide your boyfriend is worth the fight to get to your blood.”

She didn’t need to tell them twice.

Kiyo placed a claiming hand on Niamh’s lower back and led her out of the tavern. She exhaled in relief as soon as they strode out of the alley and back onto the main street.

“Where to next?”

Kiyo raised the napkin with the Japanese characters on it.

“You really need to teach me how to read Japanese.”

“Which language?” he answered sardonically.

Remembering there was Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji, Niamh shrugged. “All of them.”

“Is this before or after we’re saving my ass?”

“After. But first we need to save the world. Then you can teach me Japanese.”

“If we save my ass and then the world’s, I’m not celebrating by teaching you Japanese.” He gave her a pointed look that made her hot and needy.

“You can’t give me that smoldering-sex look when we’re smack bang in the middle of a mission.”

Kiyo looked far too happy about her description.

“I feel like you’re not taking this seriously at all.” She snatched the napkin from his hand. She stared at the alien characters. Fionn’s voice filled her head: The only limitations to your magic are the ones you place upon it.

Holding tight to the napkin, Niamh stepped closer to Kiyo’s body. He instinctively put his arms around her and she smiled up at him as she concentrated on the symbols on the napkin. Her magic pulsed and the characters began to leave the napkin, slithering into her hand and melting into her skin.

Kiyo’s expression was blank but she felt his shock.

The knowledge on the napkin became a part of her.

“Hold on to me.”

A momentary darkness, a slightly off-kilter but familiar feeling surrounded them, and then they were there.

She’d traveled to the address on the napkin.

Kiyo looked up at the house he told her was of the Minka style, much like the one from her dream. Minka was a blanket term now for traditional Japanese architecture. It was large and stuck out on the residential street crammed with modern homes.

Thankfully, no one was on the street when Kiyo and Niamh popped out of nowhere.

Her mate took hold of her hand, turning it over and finding only the scar left by Sakura’s bracelet. “How?” His eyes flew to hers. “Have you done that before?”

Niamh shook her head. “It was something Fionn said. The only limitations to my magic are the ones I place upon it. I think he meant I’m capable of almost anything. Cool, huh?”

Kiyo shook his head, his expression veering between awe and exasperation. “Try to leave me some things to do that make me useful.”

Niamh gave him a saucy smile before turning to climb the steps to the museum. “Oh, there are parts of you that are incredibly useful to me.”

“You’re going to pay for that.” He hurried to catch up with her.

“How?”

“Where’s the fun in telling you?” He winked before guiding her inside.

Despite their current reason for being in the museum, Niamh couldn’t help the happiness that filled her. Every day, Kiyo grew less and less brooding. And she knew it was because of their bond. Even here in Osaka, somewhere he hadn’t returned since being cursed, he was lighter than before.

Tags: Samantha Young True Immortality Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net