by S. Young
“The truth is, I always felt he blamed me for ruining her potential. I think beneath his coldness, my mother was his pride and joy before her fall. And I was a constant reminder of what he’d lost. As a kid, I was desperate to believe that her death had reminded him of what was important. That he’d want a relationship with me. But it was a trick. He abandoned me in Tokyo. I was twelve years old.”
Niamh sucked in a breath. “I was twelve, too, when Ronan and I went on the run. But I had my gifts. What did you have?”
“I had my determination to live.” Deciding he’d confided enough, he continued, “Suffice it to say I landed on my feet. And years later, I hunted down the men who raped my mother. I hunted them down one by one and killed them.” He looked Niamh deep in the eyes, searching for her horror and finding nothing but understanding. “I took my vengeance, Niamh. And it left me with nothing but emptiness. I will never get my mother back. I will never be able to protect her from what happened, and what happened to her happened because of my very existence. But it wasn’t my fault. It was those men who took what they wanted like savage animals. And in killing them … I not only lost my mother, I lost my soul. I won’t let that happen to you.”
Niamh pressed her hand more firmly against his chest. “You haven’t lost your soul, Kiyo. It’s just a little bashed up.”
“Niamh—”
“No. I won’t believe it of you.” She released him but only to push up on her elbow, her hair cascading onto the bed between them. “Thank you. For telling me about your mam. Knowing you understand, knowing that vengeance wouldn’t have helped anyway … I needed to hear that.”
He nodded. As vulnerable as he felt, he was glad it had been worth it. “I know.”
Her expression changed, fear creeping into her eyes. “Kiyo, things have changed. The vision … someone is alive that should be dead. Someone we really, really need to be afraid of.”
15
It was amazing how powerful words were.
How a confidence given could make a person lower their defenses, softened by the trust and kindness of someone confiding in them to make them feel better.
Niamh knew it had been hard for Kiyo to tell her about his mam. She knew because she’d felt the wolf’s heart pounding fast and hard beneath her palm; she’d seen the sweat bead on his forehead and detected the slight musky change in his natural scent.
But he’d told her his terrible, tragic story to help her move on.
And in that moment, Niamh felt herself falling.
It was unwise. She knew that.
Kiyo had high defenses and was unlikely to ever return her feelings, even if she sensed he was attracted to her.
Yet Niamh couldn’t help herself.
And she so desperately wanted someone by her side, in friendship at least, as they battled what was coming next.
“Who is alive that shouldn’t be?”
“Ms. Wainwright, Mr. Kaneshiro.” The female voice startled them, drawing their attention upward to the flight attendant who hovered over the suite. She gave them a patient smile. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask Mr. Kaneshiro to return to his own suite. It’s our policy to have only one person to a suite, for safety reasons.”
To Niamh’s delight, she felt the frustration emanating from Kiyo. She wanted him to stay with her too. Maybe not for the same reasons, but still … his reluctance to leave her felt nice.
“My fiancée had a nightmare. Can’t you let me stay with her for a bit?” He glanced at the seat-belt sign that wasn’t lit up. “If the seat-belt signs come on, I’ll go back to my suite, I promise.” He smiled at the attendant. It was the first real, big smile she’d ever seen from him. His right cheek creased into an almost dimple, his grin surprisingly boyish. Niamh’s belly fluttered and her pulse increased. Kiyo must have heard it because he flicked her a concerned look.
Ignoring his gaze and hoping he didn’t notice her flushed cheeks, Niamh looked at the flight attendant who clearly wanted to succumb to Kiyo’s gorgeous smile.
No wonder he didn’t smile often. It was lethal.
“I’m really sorry, but—” The attendant cut off as her and Niamh’s gazes connected.
“Please,” Niamh pleaded. Her gift was almost like hypnosis. She didn’t know how else to explain her ability to manipulate people into doing her bidding.
“All right. For a little while longer.” The flight attendant drifted away, dazed.
Kiyo turned back to Niamh, his elbow to the pillow, his head braced in his palm. He studied her face as if searching for something. Niamh tried to control her heartbeat as she bemoaned his beauty. Not that his gorgeous face mattered. Somehow Niamh knew that even if he didn’t look like an Armani model, she’d be attracted to him. It was the contradiction of his brooding standoffishness and the kindnesses he’d shown her, his jumping in front of that bloody dagger to save her, his air of mystery and detachment. All of that was enough to entice her … but he came wrapped up in a package that involved an unfair quantity of masculine beauty.
He’d turned her into one of those annoying heroines who wanted to save the broken hero.
Damn him.
“What are you thinking so hard?” he asked, his voice rough and rasping across her skin.
Niamh tried to contain a shiver. Maybe she should have let the flight attendant force the wolf back to his suite after all.
“Niamh?” He frowned.
“Astra,” she blurted out. Concentrating on the bigger picture was a good distraction from this potent infatuation.
“Astra?”
Niamh nodded. Deciding the next part was way too important to be overheard, she rested her head on the pillow and spoke into Kiyo’s mind. Can I talk to you like this?
Kiyo showed no sign of discomfort at her use of telepathy. He gave her a subtle lift of his chin in agreement.
Seven of us were born on the same day of the same year to different human mothers. Although we’re fae, we do actually have our human parents’ DNA too. It’s complicated. Most of us were born not knowing what we are. But I was born with knowledge. Of who we are, of how Faerie’s interference in the human world led to the birth of supernaturals, of Aine, the Faerie Queen, and her spell. Over the years, a vampire named Eirik sought the fae-borne to kill them so they couldn’t open the gate. Eirik and his brother Jerrik were the oldest vampires in the world. So old, they remembered Faerie. They’d visited it often. Jerrik’s true mate was a princess of one of the royal fae houses.
Aine had begun to learn that fae and supernaturals were coming together in the true-mate bond. It alarmed her but not so much as when a werewolf bit his fae mate and she turned into a werewolf, losing her fae-ness and her immortality. Those who weren’t connected in a true-mate bond found that a werewolf bite was as lethal to a fae as iron. Until that point, there was nothing on Faerie that could kill them.
Kiyo flinched like she’d hit him. He hissed, “My bite can kill you? Why the hell did Fionn not warn me? I could have hurt you without even meaning to. The full moon is in four days.”
Niamh wasn’t concerned about Kiyo hurting her. The wolf had more self-control than any werewolf she’d ever come across. Fionn probably didn’t want you to know how dangerous you are to us.
“I’m going to kill him and now I know how.”
Sensing he was only semiserious, Niamh gave him a mock reproving look. Shall I continue, or do you just want to brood about what a sly bastard Fionn is?
When he didn’t answer, Niamh asked, “Well?”
He flicked her a dark, petulant look. “I’m thinking about it.”
She smiled despite herself. Let me choose for you … Aine said she was afraid for the human world, that a war was brewing, and she wasn’t wrong. But she was afraid for her own people. She hated the idea of them mingling with supernaturals, or worse, becoming like them. The fae are superior beings to her, and while it was okay to have sex with supernaturals, it was most definitely not okay to become one of them. She sent all supernat
urals on Faerie back to the human world and closed the gate.
But Aine is a typical fae. Bored. Complex. Capable of kindness but apt toward wickedness. And she likes her games. She knew there were beings like Jerrik who would do anything to get back to Faerie, so she tormented them with the spell: seven fae children born in the human world with the ability to open the gate. No instructions for when they’d appear or how many were needed to open the gate or how they’d even open the gate. She just loved the idea of supernaturals chasing their tails trying to find the kids.
Eventually, we appeared. Niamh gave Kiyo a wry smirk. But as I said, most of us didn’t know what we were. We were vulnerable. Her smirk died as sadness filled her. Eirik killed Jerrik, who wanted to protect the children. Killed by his own brother. That’s how much he feared the gate being opened again. Over the centuries, Eirik created The Garm. Their sole purpose is to find the fae children and kill them.
They succeeded with a few. Jael was first. She lived in Jordan. Her powers came to her more quickly than the rest of us. As a baby, in fact. Her parents abandoned her, thinking she was cursed. An international relief organization took her into one of their orphanages. When she was five years old, Eirik tracked her down through rumors of the strange incidents that occurred around her. And he killed her.
“How do you know this?”
Because I saw it. I saw it before it happened. My knowledge of what I was and where we came from was just within me as a child. But Jael’s death was my first-ever vision.
Kiyo’s eyes narrowed. “You were five years old when you saw a child you were connected to being murdered?”
She nodded slowly, not wanting his pity when she didn’t need it. I’ve been burdened with knowledge my entire life, Kiyo. I was never allowed to be a child. Not with my visions. But I could handle it.
He cursed under his breath.
An ache flared in her chest as she realized what he felt wasn’t pity. He was angry on her behalf.
I’m okay. I was built for these visions. Built to handle the adult emotions that came with them.
“It would have destroyed an ordinary human kid,” he said. “Seeing things like that.”
Maybe. Maybe not. Humans are capable of incredible mental and emotional strength.
He frowned. “What happened next?”
Dimitri. He was fourteen when Eirik found him in Kyiv. Dimitri was using his powers, much as I have over the years, but not being quiet about it at all. He crossed paths with a vampire coven who turned him over to The Garm. Ronan and I tried to get to Kyiv to warn Dimitri, but we were too late and then we had to get the hell out of Dodge before The Garm sensed me there.
Then there was Astra. Niamh’s stomach flipped anxiously. When I was sixteen, I started to get visions of Astra. She lived in Bergen, a coastal city in Norway. These visions weren’t like the others—these were warnings. About Astra herself. Ronan convinced me not to go to her, not until we understood what the visions meant. But I was pretty sure I knew what they meant. Astra was more dangerous than The Garm and the Blackwood Coven combined.
Niamh held Kiyo’s gaze as she whispered into his mind, Her soul is … Kiyo, she doesn’t have one.
“What do you mean?”
The only thing I can compare her to is a psychopath. It’s not that she doesn’t have wants or passions or that she doesn’t feel ambition or loyalty even … but she has no empathy. It doesn’t bother her if she hurts or betrays someone. She doesn’t feel it. It’s like she has no conscience.
“You saw this?”
Niamh nodded. She killed her parents when she was twelve. She’d been hiding her gifts from them, but they discovered her over time. They wanted her to be medically examined but Astra knew she’d end up in a lab somewhere and maybe even eventually exploited by a government. So she killed her parents and … got rid of their bodies … like I did with the abuser at Moscow Airport. Despite the suspicions of her parents’ friends, there was no evidence she’d done anything to harm them, so she was put into the foster care system. She grew close to a girl in her group home, but when the girl became romantically interested in another girl and stopped paying attention to Astra, she used her powers to push the girl down three flights of stairs. The girl ended up in a coma.
There is a long list of antisocial behavior from Astra. I thought perhaps if I went to her and gave her a family, it might help, but Ronan wouldn’t let me. In all honesty, he was right.
When I was seventeen, I got a vision that truly frightened me. The future is never absolute. The smallest decision can affect everything, so the possibilities are infinite. Over the years, I’ve been shown possible futures. Thea, Conall’s mate, endured horrors that none of the rest of us have. I knew if she didn’t trust Conall when he was sent to her, Eirik would eventually find and kill her. Her mating with Conall would change that future, so I tried to push them together. The vision I saw before he left … it showed me multiple possibilities for Thea, Conall, and their pack’s future, and in all of them, I’m pleased to say that Thea and Conall are happy.
With Fionn and Rose, it was much bigger than just one person’s destiny. Fionn wanted to open the gate so he could take his revenge against the Faerie Queen for destroying his life and turning him fae. He would have succeeded in killing Aine and the fae would rush to the human world to take their vengeance. The human world, as we know it, would have ended.
His mating with Rose, however, changed that. His priority became protecting her and thus protecting the gate.
“So you saved the world?”
Niamh smirked. Rose saved the world from Fionn.
“What of Astra?”
If Astra lived, there was a possibility, not an absolute, but a possibility she’d succeed in opening the gate to Faerie. I wasn’t the only fae born with knowledge. She has it too. Astra and I are like two sides of the same coin. Same gifts, visions, abilities … but one of us was born in the light, the other, the dark. She craves power and believes that she can only be truly immortal by returning to Faerie where there is no iron or werewolves … where nothing can end her.
But she also knows there are several ways to return to Faerie. If one of us willingly wants to return to Faerie, then we need four of us to open the gate. Four is a sacred number to the fae. They have four countries, four courts, four seasons, four times of day in which the courts are named for—Samhradh, a country of perpetual sunshine. Colloquially known as the Day Lands and location of the Queen’s royal seat. Geimhreadh, a country of eternal darkness and called the Night Lands. Earrach, the Dawn Lands, and Fómhar, the Dusk Lands.
Four. Four of us to open the gate if one of us is willing.
If we’re all unwilling, our enemies only need one of us. They don’t even need our deaths. They just need to spill our unwilling blood.
“Why do you need four, then?”
Proof that we’re deserving to return to Faerie. That one of us at least feels like we’re one of them, not one of the supernaturals or humans we were raised among.
“And Astra knew this? She has the sight?”
Yes. But I thought she was no longer a problem. A few months after I had the vision about her plans to find and use three of us to open the gate, Eirik found and killed her. I thought she was dead. He thought she was dead.
“What happened?”
He stabbed her in the heart with iron, and she appeared to die a slow, painful death. Niamh couldn’t believe Astra had been able to contrive that. She must have used magic as an illusion. He only thought he was using iron, and she made him see what she wanted him to see. The scary part is that it tricked me too.
“But now you’re getting visions of her again.”
Yes. She’s alive. And she’s on track to take me, Rose, and the last fae-borne, Elijah, to Scotland to open a gate that no one knows about. Everyone thinks the only gate is in Ireland … but there’s another near Edinburgh.
“Is that what the stones were from the vision?”
Niamh nodded. Sta
nding stones. They mark the gate to Faerie. They were put there thousands of years ago to warn people not to go near. That within the circle, the fabric between worlds was broken and they’d slip into Faerie.
Kiyo frowned. “Why am I in this vision?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
He considered this a moment. “Okay. I believe you.”
His words caused her to melt into the bed with relief. Good. Because we need to be on the same team. I said Astra and I were different sides of the same coin, but I feel like her powers have grown exponentially. She may be more powerful than any of us now. She’s capable of things … she can hide from us. My vision told me that’s how she’ll get Rose and Elijah. We’ll sense something but not danger, and not enough to protect ourselves. And if our guard is down with her, she’ll be able to manipulate us like we can manipulate humans. I know now, so my guard will be up with her, but I should warn Rose and try to get to Elijah too. It’s just … I feel like Tokyo is the priority and I don’t know why.
Kiyo suddenly sat up, his whole being alert.
“What is it?”
“You can’t sense danger from her and she can manipulate you?”
“If my guard was down.”
His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. “Niamh, your guard is down. You’ve been grieving for months for Ronan. Burying yourself in guilt.”
“So?”
“Is it possible Astra could make you think you were seeing visions?”
“What are you saying?”
“You haven’t been able to make sense of the visions you’ve been receiving. Visions that are coming too often. Visions that are pushing you toward vengeance … toward darkness.”
You think she’s planting these visions in my head to steer me off my path?
“Didn’t you say you sensed someone following you when you went after Meghan?”