Bound by Forever - (True Immortality #3) Page 0,44
like he wanted to exchange it for another word entirely—“will only grow worse over time.”
Silence fell between them. Silence Kiyo was grateful for as his agitation grew. He’d thought that was the end of the discussion. Little was said between them as Conall followed Niamh’s scent.
Sure enough, around an hour into their car journey, Conall grunted, “Dover. Her scent is taking us to cross the water for Calais.”
“France, then?”
He nodded. “Aye. She doesnae feel far from Calais.” He glanced at Kiyo. “Ferry or tunnel?”
Conall referred to the Channel Tunnel that connected Britain to mainland Europe. Kiyo had never used the tunnel before. Apparently, you drove your car onto the Eurotunnel shuttle and it only took around forty minutes to get to France.
“Tunnel. It’s faster.”
The half-hour journey to Folkestone for the Eurotunnel was quick, and they were only another twenty minutes boarding a shuttle. Inside the brightly lit space, Conall pulled the Land Rover to a stop behind the vehicle in front and cut the engine.
For some reason, now that they’d stopped, the silence felt awkward.
As much as it was against his nature to converse easily, Conall was doing Kiyo a favor, and he didn’t want to seem like an ungrateful dickhead. “I appreciate this.”
“No problem. We owe Niamh a debt. And Thea worries about her. Especially now that her brother has been killed.”
Ronan’s death was the reason Niamh was as unpredictable as she was. Kiyo was sure of it. But he didn’t know how to deal with it without digging himself deeper into Niamh’s life and confidence.
“How do you know Fionn?”
Kiyo glanced at Conall. “We met at an underground fight.”
“Aye, I’ve heard of those. They can be quite brutal.”
“No more brutal than an Alpha challenge.” He flicked a hand to Conall’s face, indicating his scar.
He gave a lift of his chin in acknowledgment of the comment. “Do you have any?”
“Silver scars?”
“Aye.”
Kiyo nodded and lifted his shirt to reveal the long scar across his abdomen. “A werewolf hunter. Rogue. Not one of the dark hunters from the Consortium.”
“Human?”
“Yeah. Had a prejudice against wolves.”
“I hope you taught him a lesson.”
“She,” Kiyo replied with a wry smirk. “I thought she was just an attractive human eager for sex. I smelled her arousal. I had no reason to be suspicious. So she caught me unaware … and she taught me a very valuable lesson.”
“You don’t trust women,” Conall responded.
“I don’t trust anyone.” Well, except Fionn. A little.
“Lone wolves often feel that way.”
Kiyo curled his lip at the condescending assumption, but out of respect for Caelan and Lennox, he held his tongue and stared broodingly out of the car at … nothing. The ferry would have been longer, but at least there was water and sky to look at.
Twenty-five minutes passed.
No words spoken between them.
And then, “My father had a photograph. It was of him and my grandfather with a friend of the pack. A Japanese American lone werewolf. It was taken almost thirty years before I was born. My father was barely eighteen and he wouldn’t fall in love with my mother until twenty years after this photograph was taken.”
Kiyo held still, willing his pulse not to race and give the alpha, with his exceptional hearing, knowledge of his anxiety. It was a trick Kiyo had learned years ago.
“I remember my father’s stories of the Japanese wolf. He admired him. Looked up to him. I think it disappointed him that the wolf never returned to visit the pack. He would take out that photograph and tell me of Kiyonari. A brooding, quiet, noble, honorable, cold son of a bitch, with a quick sense of humor, a deep admiration for the Highlands, and natural loyalty that not even his lone status could diminish.”
Now Kiyo struggled to slow his breathing as a strange feeling of emotion and nostalgia filled him.
“I’d recognize you anywhere.” Conall’s gaze burned into his profile and not to face him would be cowardly.
Their eyes met.
“Fionn Mór wouldnae entrust Niamh to an ordinary wolf. And the energy emanating from you is … different. I remember my father speaking of that as well.” Conall’s eyes narrowed. “Wolves live for a long time and age slower than humans, but I know of no wolf who looks exactly as they did sixty years before.”
Damn it. Was everyone to know what he was? He glared at Conall. “You know nothing.”
“I suspect you’re immortal. I have no idea how … but you’re no ordinary werewolf.”