“Okay. We keep moving.” His expression hardened. “But you tell me if you feel anything like that again. If you feel anything out of the ordinary, I want to know.” His head dipped toward her. “You have to trust me, Niamh.”
Her eyelashes fluttered at his closeness. “I know. I’m going to try.”
Although more than a little annoyed that she needed to try considering he’d thrown himself in front of a damn dagger for her, Kiyo merely grunted and continued toward the small security lounge for first-class travelers.
They moved through it quickly. Kiyo had already abandoned his katana in Conall’s Defender back in Inverness so he could board the flight to London. Niamh’s backpack held only a small amount of cash and her clothes.
Afterward, as they followed signs for the first-class lounge, Kiyo spotted the bookstore and stopped so fast, Niamh collided into him. He felt the brush of her breasts against his biceps just before she pulled back. “What is it?”
He gestured toward the store. “Give me a minute?”
She nodded and followed him inside.
As he perused the English language fiction bestseller list, he spotted the new Stephen King and grabbed a copy without reading the blurb. He moved toward the checkout counter.
“Wait … you’re buying a book to read on the plane?” Niamh asked incredulously.
Kiyo scowled at her over his shoulder. “And?”
“You read?”
“Yeah. I’ve also been known to use my opposable thumbs.”
She chuckled. His lips twitched at the sound, but he had his back to her so she couldn’t see.
“I just never took you for a reader.” She sidled up beside him as he stepped to the counter to pay for the book.
“You don’t really know me,” he muttered.
She slipped a book up onto the counter. It was a copy of Schindler’s Ark by Thomas Keneally. Kiyo had already read that one. He quirked a brow at her. Niamh shrugged, smiling at him. “I’ve never read it and I like books about history.”
He turned to the checkout assistant, ignoring the hint of curiosity in Niamh’s tone when she stressed the word history. “That one too.”
“Thanks.”
He flicked Niamh a wary look. “No problem.”
For a few seconds Kiyo thought she wasn’t going to push it. But as they walked out of the bookstore with books in hand, Niamh shocked the absolute shit out of him.
So how does a werewolf become an immortal?
At the sound of her voice, clear as day in his head, an invasion and not a thought, he staggered to a stop and gaped at her.
She gave him a sheepish smile. Yeah, I can talk to you like this.
Grabbing her by the arm, he led her across the airport in quick, long strides until they neared a set of double doors reserved for airport staff only. Kiyo pushed Niamh into the corner, dropping his bag at their feet, so he could cage her in with his arms braced on the wall at either side of her head.
Her cheeks flushed as he glared at her.
“What the hell?” he bit out, not sure how to feel about this latest development.
“Do you want me to keep talking telepathically or is it freaking you out?” Before he could answer, she put her hands lightly on his chest as if in a calming gesture. He looked down at them, wanting to push her off. He didn’t want her feeling how hard his heart was racing right now. Her soft words stopped him. “It’s useful. When … Ronan and I were on the run, being able to talk to him like that was useful.”
Kiyo frowned, considering that. “Can you hear me if I did the same?”
She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t work like that. But it’s still useful.” She dropped her hands, as if touching him burned. Niamh shrugged and he caught the uncertainty in her expression before she looked away over his shoulder. “I just … I thought maybe it was time I trusted you with it. It might come in handy.”
There was something brittle about her now. As if she half expected him to judge her for it.
“You just surprised me.” He pushed away from her. “I can see how it could be useful.”
He watched the hard uncertainty melt from her face. Her expression softened, her lips quirking at the corner and drawing his attention.
He looked at her mouth for a few seconds too long. When their eyes met again, Kiyo’s whole body bristled with hot tension.
An aching silence stretched between them, and Kiyo didn’t know how to break it. He was afraid if he moved or opened his mouth, he’d lose hold of the self-control he prided himself on.
The decision was taken out of his hands when Niamh’s eyes widened with shock. “No,” she whispered, tears of frustration filling them. “Not again. Kiyo—vision.” She bit it out just in time.
With his fast reflexes, he gripped her head just as it jerked back on her neck. If he hadn’t caught her, she would’ve slammed it into the wall with force. Gut churning, Kiyo encircled her and tried to contain her as she convulsed and shuddered in his arms.