a safe, happy Niamh, and the pleasures they could wring from one another’s bodies.
But he knew that wasn’t their fate.
He knew that even before Niamh took a deep breath and announced, “It’s time to get a flight to London.”
39
Three weeks later (mid-April)
Munich, Germany
It was difficult to get anywhere near Margaret Lancaster. During the day, there was always at least one werewolf stalking her. At night, two vampires. The supes were well trained, and it seemed that Margaret had no idea she was under constant surveillance.
As soon as they’d spotted her twenty-four-hour guard from The Garm, Kiyo wanted to bail.
But as Niamh patiently explained to him, this was their current mission.
Margaret was a chess piece. She might not be the king or queen. Really, she was a lowly pawn … but a central one, and she needed to be moved to further the game.
So they’d gone to London where they found her and discovered she was under surveillance, which only signified Niamh’s vision was on point. Niamh had to travel into the financial building Margaret worked in on Canary Wharf to get a surveillance shot without drawing The Garm’s attention.
At forty-eight years old, Margaret Lancaster was still a very beautiful woman. And she was the spitting image of her daughter.
From there, Niamh had broken into the personnel department of Margaret’s company and stolen copies of her personal information. She and Kiyo had used it to track down photographs of her dead boyfriend, his medical files, and the death certificate for the daughter who had been stolen from them. During their own surveillance of the woman, Kiyo had discovered she visited a therapist every week. Niamh decided to break into the therapist’s office and steal copies of that file too. It wasn’t right for Niamh to look through it, but her daughter might be interested in what was in the file.
Information in hand, they’d finally arrived in Munich.
Much to Kiyo’s disgruntlement.
Munich was the new headquarters for The Garm. Probably Niamh’s most dangerous enemy since the Blackwoods didn’t want to kill her, but The Garm most certainly did.
However, Echo Payne, the adopted daughter of William “the Bloody” Payne, new leader of The Garm, was about to become an important player for the fae-borne. She was raised as William’s adopted human daughter until she was twenty years old, and then he’d turned her into a vampire. In human years, she was twenty-six—a newbie vampire in the grand scheme of things—but rumor had it she was powerful and intelligent. She’d also been raised by William to fear the fae-borne and to treat them as the enemy.
Now that just won’t do, Niamh thought to herself as she and Kiyo stalked through the streets of Munich at dawn.
Kiyo bristled at her side with heavy tension, his ears pricked, his gaze swinging from side to side.
“This way.” Niamh gestured to an apartment building two streets over from Echo’s. Kiyo followed at her back, watching it for her, as she used her magic to break into the building. Following the stairwell up to the very top, she unlocked the door to the roof and they strode out into a rooftop garden. “Ooh, I like this. What a grand idea.”
“Niamh,” Kiyo bit out impatiently. “Focus.”
“I am. I’m just saying, those tomatoes look amazing. Ooh, and look at all these potted herbs.”
“Keep walking.”
“I’m walking,” she threw over her shoulder. “Bossy bastard.” Then she turned back around.
“I heard that.”
“You were meant to.”
“Did it ever occur to you that as I am an actual illegitimate child, I might take offense to the word?”
Niamh rolled her eyes, even though he couldn’t see her. She suddenly ran, leaping across the small gap between buildings. She landed silently on the next building and heard Kiyo land behind her, almost as quietly. “No,” she answered as they continued across its lackluster, bare rooftop. “The only thing you take offense to is me wearing clothes.”
At his lack of response, she glanced over her shoulder.
“I can’t argue with that.” His nostrils flared and he grabbed for her, pulling her down beside him in a crouch.
What is it?
Kiyo murmured close to her ear. “I smell wolves.”
“Guards?”
He nodded.
Niamh searched the roofline ahead of them and across the street. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Look down. White van with a satellite dish.”
Glimpsing it down on the way, Niamh sighed. Echo’s apartment was at the other end of the street, so the van wasn’t in sight of her place. Were they guarding Echo or surveilling her?
Clutching the satchel filled with the info she needed to