Bound by Forever - (True Immortality #3) Page 0,118

kiss. He settled back into his seat but didn’t let go of her hand. “It’s good to know she has no clue about Osaka.”

“None whatsoever. Which means we have a head start on finding that pendant.”

Following Google Maps’ directions to Nakamura Izakaya, they found themselves wandering the streets near the port of Osaka Bay. Niamh hoped they found the jade pendant fast because from what they’d seen of the city as they drove through it, she was beyond excited to explore. Maybe it was because this was where Kiyo was born. If it wasn’t too painful for him, she would like to return to the area of his birth. To imagine Osaka as it had been when he was a boy. She did sense uneasiness from him about being in the city, but his strongest emotion was urgency. He wanted to find that pendant. So did Niamh. Tourist shit could wait. Leaving the car behind, they began to walk in search of their destination.

Kiyo explained that an izakaya was a kind of bar that sold drinks and snacks. Nakamura Tavern was apparently hidden in amongst a bunch of commercial establishments a few yards ahead.

Feeling a hum of energy the closer they got to their destination, Niamh asked Kiyo if he could feel it.

“Yeah,” he answered, his face hard with thought as they neared the alley that led down to the bar. That hum became a cloying warmth on their skin as they walked down the alley toward the entrance.

It stood before them, a black-fronted building with a brown, ragged awning over the door. One small window covered in peeling black paper allowed some light from inside to peek through.

It looked as welcoming as a morgue.

“That’s a spell,” Niamh whispered, referring to the hum of energy.

“To keep nonsupernaturals out.” Kiyo raised an eyebrow. “The travel blogger and her sister walked right through it … they can harness magic and they don’t even know it.”

“Latent witches. That’s how they got past the spell.”

“Looks like it. I think we should be grateful they don’t know. If someone can mutilate the English language with words like ‘goosebumpy,’ imagine the horrors she’d commit with magic at her fingertips.”

Niamh let out a bark of laughter as Kiyo’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “You’re funny.”

“You don’t need to sound so surprised.” He gestured to the door. “Ladies first. I’ve got your back.”

“Let’s do this.” Niamh strode in front of him, pushing open the door to the tavern and blinking her eyes to adjust to the darkness. All she got was an impression of the interior—dark wood everywhere, low-lit lanterns, framed photographs cluttering every inch of the walls. A bar ran along the back of the room.

What really had her attention were the vamps and werewolves that made up the clientele.

Holy crap.

She heard the not-so-subtle sniffing noises from the patrons as Kiyo followed close at her back.

Niamh ignored the flashing silver eyes of the vampires who stared like they wanted to suck her dry.

Damn her fae blood and a vamp’s weakness for it.

Hurrying toward the bar where a small, middle-aged human woman with long salt-and-pepper hair glared from behind it, Niamh was halted when a tall vampire popped up in front of her.

“Oh.” She stumbled back into Kiyo.

The vampire licked his lips as he zoned in on her throat. He asked something in Japanese.

Whatever it was, Kiyo took a distinct dislike to it. He demonstrated this not by words but by thumping his palm against the vampire’s chest.

The knock sent the vamp flying across the tavern into a table of werewolves who immediately pounced on the vampire as if it had been his fault he was now their table decoration.

Niamh raised an eyebrow at Kiyo.

He was too busy issuing a silent warning at every supe in the tavern to notice.

She shivered, feeling hot and tingly in her southern region. Niamh shook her head at herself, not quite used to the idea that as much as there was a primal side to Kiyo’s territorialism, there was an equally primal side of her that reacted to it physically.

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.