by S. Young
The wolves stared at Niamh and Kiyo.
“I take it this is the pack you pissed off?” she whispered.
So angry at him for being cool toward her ever since he’d woken up on the plane, she’d jumped off the bullet train without listening to her senses.
“Pack Iryoku.” Kiyo’s hand wrapped around her elbow. “No fighting, Niamh. We go with them.”
She glanced up at him, shocked. Worried the wolves might overhear, she spoke into his mind, Are you nuts? Don’t they want to kill you?
Kiyo shook his head. “No. They more than likely want me to pay a debt they think I owe.”
Do you owe it?
“No.”
Then let’s annihilate the bastards and get out of here.
“Our business is here.” He reminded her. “So we’ll do the polite thing and go where they want to take us. If we fight, it’ll be war, and we’ll have to leave Tokyo.”
Frustrated beyond belief, Niamh huffed and glared at the brooding werewolves who waited patiently at the exit. I reserve the right to kill any one of them if they attack first.
“I have no problem with that plan.” His grip on her arm tightened and he bent to whisper in her ear. “And as far as they’re concerned, you’re a witch.”
At the feel of his lips brushing her skin, she tingled, heat flushing down her spine. He lifted his head. His expression was hard, implacable.
Niamh nodded. I’m a witch.
Satisfied, he nodded back. Then he murmured, “Haruto is with them. Belying his size, he’s a beta. Older than he looks. Coolheaded. Doesn’t believe in violence unless utterly necessary. I respected him back when I knew him. If he’s here, we should be okay.” He led her through the crowd to the wolves who seemed to grow larger at their approach, their scowls forbidding and unnerving. Niamh hoped like hell that Kiyo was right about these people.
The tallest of the wolves, a male with deep-set black eyes and an overhanging forehead, stepped forward and said something to Kiyo in Japanese. His tone was calm, bored even, which gave Niamh hope.
Kiyo’s expression remained impressively blank. “My companion doesn’t understand Japanese, Haruto-san. May we speak in English?”
Haruto flicked a look at Niamh. Seemingly uninterested in her, he turned back to Kiyo and nodded. “Our ippikiookami returns. Arufua-san wishes to know why. She will see you now, if it pleases you.”
Despite his respectful words, Niamh knew Haruto wasn’t asking.
Kiyo nodded. “We’re happy to.”
She noted a slight softening of Haruto’s expression, as if he was relieved Kiyo wasn’t going to give them any trouble.
But then the pack surrounded them, and Niamh stiffened beneath Kiyo’s touch, her body readying itself for battle.
Kiyo squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. They’re just escorting us out of the station.”
She tried—and failed—to relax as they followed Haruto, beseiged by the bodyguards that smelled of damp earth and herbs. None of them smelled like Kiyo, with his distinct smoky scent that reminded her of lazy afternoons in a cabin with a log burner.
Niamh didn’t know why he reminded her of that, considering she’d never had a lazy afternoon in a cabin with a log-burning fire.
Shaking off her silly wayward thoughts, she asked Kiyo under her breath, “What did he call you?”
“Ippikiookami?”
“Yes.”
“Lone wolf.”
“And what or who is Arufua-san?”
“Arufua means Alpha. San is a suffix. Like Mr. or Mrs. It’s used as a mark of respect. It can be used with first or surnames or in regard to a person’s profession. Alpha is a job, a high-ranking job, so their pack will refer to them as Arufua-san. ‘Chan’ is for those we feel affection toward. ‘Kun’ is less respectful. I might use it if someone is the same age or younger than me.”
Isn’t everyone younger than you?
He smirked in acknowledgment, shooting her an amused look that caused little flutters in her belly.
Damn him.
Haruto’s hulking form led them out of the station toward black SUVs with blacked-out windows. Niamh’s steps faltered.
Sensing her trepidation, Kiyo gave her arm a squeeze, his look one of reassurance.
Then his attention was whipped away by a stream of Japanese from Haruto.
Kiyo scowled and he pulled Niamh more firmly into his side. “Absolutely not.”
“What do they want?”
“To separate us.”
At the thought, energy crackled across her skin.
Kiyo shook his head at her ever so slightly and spoke to Haruto. “We come quietly together, or we give the people of Tokyo a show right here, right now.”
Haruto scowled and then exchanged a look with one of the other wolves. Finally, he nodded at Kiyo. “Together.” He opened the back passenger side of one of the SUVs.
Kiyo released Niamh but only to press his hand on her lower back, guiding her forward. It seemed stupid and wrong to get into the vehicle but Niamh had to trust him.
Bristling with agitation, Niamh slid along the leather bench as Kiyo followed her inside. He sat close, his leg pressing against hers.
There was already a werewolf in the driver’s seat. He didn’t move or speak to them.
Then Haruto got into the front passenger seat and clipped out directions in Japanese.
“They’re taking us to the alpha. The pack’s headquarters aren’t in this ward,” Kiyo spoke at a normal level, since even if he whispered, the wolves would hear. “It’s in Shinjuku. Roughly a thirty-minute drive.”
The darkly tinted windows afforded the passenger a view of outside but it was a muted, gray one. Frustrating for Niamh when she wanted her first look at the city. From what she’d glimpsed so far, it looked like any major city. Tall buildings made of concrete, glass, and brick. Multilane main streets with crosswalks and traffic lights. The only difference was the signs with the Japanese characters. But now and then, she’d see an English word on a sign that made her feel less disoriented.
Silence reigned thick in the car. Niamh tried not to worry about what was ahead of them. If Kiyo thought they could survive this interview with a werewolf pack, then they probably could. After all, Fionn had vowed him to an unbreakable bond. If he got her killed, he essentially got himself killed, so she trusted he wouldn’t put her in a too-dangerous position, even if her Spidey senses were telling her otherwise.
Eventually they drove through a greener part of the city. Beautiful trees lined the sidewalks, and she decided she liked this area better for it. When they slowed in traffic, passing what looked like some kind of traditional wall with trees towering behind it, Niamh asked Kiyo if he knew what it was.
“If memory serves, it’s Kudankita.”
“Hai,” Haruto said gruffly from the passenger seat.
Kiyo nodded. “It is. Kudankita is a residential district. Quite prestigious. There’s a Shinto-style shrine in there you’d probably like. It commemorates the war. The buildings are traditional, lots of greenery. It’s its own little town. Very private. Quiet. You don’t really feel like you’re in the city when you’re in there.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“For someone who sticks to cities, you seem to like nature, to like green?” he said, his eyes almost smiling.
“I do.” She grinned, despite her nervousness. She spoke in his head, It’s part of fae genetics to be at one with nature. “I like my green.”
“I know the feeling.”
“I bet you do.”
They shared a look that made her heart beat so hard, Niamh knew everyone in the car must have heard it. She glanced quickly away, willing her pale skin not to flush. Instead she concentrated on where they were going.
“It’s not how I imagined.”
“How did you imagine it?”
She shrugged. “Narrow, crammed streets with lots of market stalls.”
Kiyo smirked. “There’re plenty of neighborho
ods like that. We’re taking the main road that cuts through the entire city.”
As they drove onward, even though they were still on multilane main streets, the buildings did seem to crowd closer together.
Kiyo leaned over, pointing out the window. “We’re in the pack’s ward now. Shinjuku. All of these signs”—he gestured—“are neon at night.”
Niamh could imagine it in her mind from the images she’d seen of Tokyo over the years. “I can’t wait to see it.” Her tone was dry as her she spoke into his head, Assuming I live through this.
He huffed under his breath but didn’t comment again until five or so minutes later when they were suddenly surrounded by extremely tall buildings. “Skyscraper district.” He relayed and then clarified. “Business district.”
The pack is based out of this district?
Kiyo nodded.
When you said they were powerful, you meant in more ways than one.
Another slight nod.
Shit.
Niamh was concluding that Pack Iryoku were something along the lines of a Mafia.
“This is their hotel.”
As Haruto opened the door for her and she hopped out, Niamh nearly broke her neck craning it back. The hotel was tall.
Like really, really bloody tall.
“How many floors does this monstrosity have?”
Haruto shot her a quiet scowl. “Forty-seven. But the hotel is two towers, not just one.”
“Oh. Still, it looks about five hundred from here.”
Kiyo settled beside her, his hand on her lower back. “Haruto’s English is excellent. Try not to call the pack’s hotel a monstrosity.”
“Oops.” Like she actually gave a damn if she insulted the man who was essentially kidnapping them.
He rolled his eyes.
Any irreverence left her, however, as the pack members surrounded them and Haruto led them inside. The lobby was humongous and decked out in all the world’s finest materials. It gleamed with expense, from the massive crystal chandeliers to the marble columns, to the antique walnut furnishings.
“This isn’t just a hotel,” Kiyo informed her as their shoes echoed off polished marble floors. “The last time I was here, there were ten restaurants, a nightclub, a casino, and even tatami suites.”
“There is more now,” Haruto informed them, looking at Kiyo over his shoulder. “Arufua-san has added much over the years. Thirteen restaurants now, one, a Michelin star. We have exhibitions, tea ceremony, and sushi-making classes, a spa … The nightclub has been replaced with a whisky degustation bar—we have the finest whiskies in the world and Chef who makes whisky-flavored food.” Haruto frowned. “Portions are small but I am told humans cannot handle larger for a six-course menu. Oh, and the casino has been expanded.”
“My goodness,” Niamh muttered, slightly amused that the somewhat tacit Haruto got chatty like a proud father talking about the hotel. “It’s like a city within a city.”
“Hai.”
“If we weren’t currently being politely held hostage, I’d love to explore it.”
Haruto grunted as Kiyo chuckled under his breath.
Niamh’s gaze flew to his face to see he was almost smiling.
“Diplomacy, Niamh. Diplomacy,” he reminded her, though he didn’t seem all that upset by her sarcasm.
They were led past a bank of elevators to the one at the end. Haruto stood in front of a panel and swiped his watch across it. The panel opened to reveal a computer screen. He pressed his thumb to it and the elevator doors opened.
He ushered them inside and only one other male wolf got on with Haruto. Niamh almost breathed a sigh of relief. Being surrounded by werewolves was not her favorite thing. Werewolves in numbers had always equaled The Garm for Niamh. The enemy.
The elevator climbed to the forty-seventh floor and when the doors opened, they didn’t open onto a corridor.
They opened to a room.
“Wow.”
They stepped out onto more polished marble floors. A wide hallway led off to the right while stairs ahead guided down into a sunken living room with hardwood floors. A bank of windows offered a view so amazing, Niamh could see the snowcapped Mount Fuji in the distance.
A glass box sat in the center of the room with flames flickering inside. It was one of the most modern fireplaces she’d ever seen.
If she wasn’t mistaken, the music filtering softly into the entire area from hidden speakers belonged to the biggest country-pop princess in the world. Not the kind of music Niamh would have guessed a powerful pack alpha might listen to.
It almost endeared her to the mystery wolf.
They passed interesting sculptures and colorful artwork that did much to break up a plethora of white paint everywhere. Velvet furniture in shades of blues and golds was scattered throughout the room. And as they wandered down into it, Niamh saw there was a stylish modern kitchen fitted at the back.
Standing at an island, chopping vegetables, was an equally stylish and beautiful woman.
Her knife stilled as her dark eyes moved past Niamh to the male at her side.
To Kiyo.
Something about the way the woman looked at her companion made Niamh’s stomach flip with uneasiness.
Haruto stopped in front of the island. “Arufua-san.” He gave her a sharp bow and then spoke in Japanese.
This … this was the pack alpha?
She thanked Haruto without taking her eyes off Kiyo. Lowering the knife to the counter, she walked slowly around the island. Niamh’s gaze moved to Kiyo who seemed transfixed by the alpha.
Something sharp and painful cut across her chest at his expression.
To her dismay, she realized it was jealousy.
The female sashayed slowly toward them. Her slender but gently curved figure was accentuated by her tight emerald-green pencil dress. It was sleeveless, showing off her toned arms. It had a high collar but a deep cut that split the neckline, showing off more than a hint of cleavage. The sexiness of the neckline was softened by the length of the dress, which hit her toned calves. Her strong, slender legs were elongated by impressive six-inch black stilettos.
Her black hair was sleek and sharp, cut to skim her elegant jawline. Perfect lips were rouged in bright red.
She was classy and stunning and emanated huge amounts of alpha energy. In her stilettos, she was the same height as Niamh.
Her thickly lashed, dark eyes pinned Kiyo to the spot as she stopped a few yards away from them. On closer inspection, Niamh saw telltale lines around her mouth and eyes. She was older than Niamh. Perhaps even older than she looked. She certainly recognized Kiyo and if he hadn’t returned to Tokyo in twenty-five years, then it would make sense that the alpha was older than her appearance.
“Kiyo-chan … Genki?”
Kiyo grunted at that. “English, Sakura.”
Sakura’s eyes narrowed. “Respect, Kiyo.” Her eyes finally flitted to Niamh. She curled her upper lip. “Mahoutsukai?”
“Yes, she’s a witch. English … Sakura-san. My companion doesn’t speak Japanese.”
“You bring a western witch to our home, Kiyo?”
Our home?
Niamh’s eyes narrowed.
“She’s under my protection.” He sidled closer to Niamh, which made her feel somewhat better.
That feeling dissipated, however, when Sakura gave him a soft smile and stepped toward him. Right into his personal space.
Something possessive and territorial surged through Niamh as Sakura placed a perfectly manicured hand on Kiyo’s chest.
The whole room tensed as lights flickered, and Sakura, still touching Kiyo, shot Niamh a reassessing look. “She is powerful, your little mahoutsukai.” She returned her attention to Kiyo as she trailed her fingertips over his pecs.
Niamh wanted to rip her hair out.
“And territorial of my Kiyo-chan,” she murmured.
That burn in Niamh’s chest, the one she tried so hard to ignore, neared the boiling point at having to
listen to this condescending wolf while she stroked Kiyo.
And while he did nothing to stop her.
“She’s just concerned you plan to rip out my heart.”
“It would only be fair.” Sakura’s expression hardened. “Since you ripped out mine twenty-six years, three months, and twelve days ago.”
Oh crap.
Niamh cut Kiyo a filthy look.
The bloody idiot could have told her this was about revenge of the bloody heart!
You had an affair with the alpha and then skipped town and didn’t think that was pertinent to tell me? she yelled in his head.
Kiyo didn’t even flinch.
Niamh’s anger burned. Well, clearly you know nothing about women if you thought we could walk in here and walk back out without a fight. Next time you might want to think about keeping it in your pants.
This time he shot her a dark look that was supposed to quell her anger.
She didn’t care.
She wasn’t afraid of him.
She was afraid of the gorgeous Japanese alpha who was still carrying a grudge twenty-six years after the fact.
“You have not aged. How can that be?” Sakura asked in wonder, stroking her thumb along his cheek.
“You haven’t aged either.”
“A kind lie.” She leaned in to whisper so softly, Niamh was sure only she and Kiyo could hear. “No one knows how kind and gentle you can be, Kiyo-chan. That was always just for me.”
Niamh wished she were anywhere else but here witnessing this. She felt like an awkward third wheel, and it was not a nice feeling when you were falling for one of the other wheels.
“I’m not being kind. It’s the truth. You’ve barely aged.”
“I have aged. But you … Oji-chan always thought you were older than your years. So mature for a young man. But he must have been wrong, hai? You had to only have been in your twenties. Which would make you nearly fifty now. Yet you do not look a day over twenty-five.”
Oh shit.
Niamh held her breath as Kiyo deftly handled the questioning with a casual shrug. “I have good genes. It’ll catch up to me one day.”
“Hmm, maybe. After all, everything always does. Speaking of which, we must discuss your debt, Kiyo. It is long overdue.”