lighter than before.
She made him happy.
She made an immortal werewolf who hadn’t known true contentment in over a hundred years happy.
That was cooler than any magic she could ever hope to do.
While Niamh was woolgathering over their bond, Kiyo paid their admission into the quiet museum. Renewed urgency seemed to have taken over him now that they were in the large home with its tatami mat flooring, wall scrolls, and shoji screens. Small plaques written in Japanese and English were placed on the walls next to scrolls and photographs. Other objects were encased in glass.
Kiyo read signs above doorways and led them with quick efficiency into the largest room at the back of the house. “This is it.”
They separated, taking one side of the room each. Niamh scoured old newspaper clippings and eyed beautiful kimonos, vases, and stones that were considered objects of power for Mizuki.
Then she stumbled to a stop upon an empty glass stand.
The plaque beneath it read:
The Nakamura Jade Pendant
Mizuki wore the Nakamura jade until the day she died. Despite requesting the jade be buried with her ashes, the request could not be fulfilled by the Nakamura family as the stone belonged to the next generation of miko. Rumors that the jade could not be borne, however, by anyone else but Mizuki spread through Osaka when Sayuri Nakamura, her successor, was killed trying to use its power. It was locked away in the family Tamaya (memorial altar dedicated to deceased ancestors) and never seen again, until now.
“Uh, Kiyo.”
“Yeah.” He hurried across the room. “Did you find it?”
“Sort of.” Niamh pointed at the empty glass, trying to quell the tears of frustration burning in her eyes. “It’s gone.”
She was confused as Kiyo abruptly strode away, though not so confused when he returned with a concerned-looking staff member who went a ghostly white when they showed him the empty glass case.
A rapid-fire conversation in Japanese ensued, the man growing more distressed as Kiyo’s anger swelled.
“What’s happening?” Niamh interrupted impatiently.
“He doesn’t know how it got out of there,” Kiyo snapped just as the man fled the room. “He’s checking the security cameras.”
“Kiyo …” She placed a hand on his arm. “Who would know?”
“Astra?” he growled in question.
“She made it clear she didn’t.”
“Or she’s trying to throw you off the trail.”
The thought of the pendant in Astra’s hands scared the shit out of Niamh. Kiyo pulled her into his embrace. “It’ll be okay.”
She nodded, pressing a kiss to his throat.
They waited like that until the museum guy returned ten minutes later looking flabbergasted and freaked out. He and Kiyo had another conversation in Japanese.
“He says the pendant was in the case last night. At 2:04 a.m., it disappeared. No one in the room. Just gone. He says you can clearly see it popping out of thin air on camera.”
“It just disappeared?”
“Yeah.”
Magic, she said telepathically.
He nodded, expression grim.
Astra.
33
Kiyo sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head bent as he stared at the floor in serious contemplation.
Never in Niamh’s life had she felt this kind of all-consuming fear and worry. All because of how much she bloody loved this man.
Loved.
What a pitiful word to describe how she felt.
“Kyōka suigetsu,” she whispered unthinkingly from her spot near the bathroom door. Kiyo brought his head up to stare at her with that heartrending intensity of his. He’d taught her that phrase this past week. Something that is visible but can’t be touched, like the moon’s reflection on the water. Or an emotion that can’t be described with mere words.
That was her love for him.
And she was terrified of losing him.
“Komorebi,” he murmured and held out his hand. “Come here.”
Niamh shook her head. If she went to him, she’d again beg and plead with him not to go to this fight. But Kiyo had already shut her down.
“It’s too dangerous,” Niamh had complained that morning.
After catching the bullet train back to Tokyo and traveling to the hotel so as not to alert the pack, Niamh had exhausted herself trying to connect to Astra. If it was possible for Astra to invade her mind with visions and dream-walking, then surely Niamh could do it to her.
She’d tried so hard, she was pretty sure she’d burst a blood vessel or two on her forehead until Kiyo had demanded she stop before she hurt herself.
Despite all the worries consuming her, she’d fallen asleep in his arms and awoken to his glorious lovemaking.
It was after as he got up to get ready for the day that