Bound by Forever - (True Immortality #3) Page 0,59
slightly to find him leaning into her suite.
He was rude to the flight attendant, she answered in his mind.
His lips twitched with amusement, making her stomach flutter. “I know.” He gave her a slight shake of his head and settled back into his suite. “Just be careful.”
She nodded, not at all chastened, and frowned as he picked up the Stephen King book.
Niamh would never have guessed Kiyo was much of a bookworm, but clearly it was a form of entertainment he favored over the movies or music supplied on the flight. Niamh preferred a good book, too, but right now, she could barely focus on anything. She decided to watch a movie—a new sci-fi flick—hoping it might distract her.
Since they were on an evening flight, they were served a meal early on. It was surprisingly delicious and when the flight attendant returned not long after she’d eaten to ask if she’d like the turndown service (transforming the suite into a sleeping pod), Niamh worried she’d never be able to return to economy travel ever again.
She did like a little luxury in life and flying international first class was bloody nice so far. Using the bathroom to change into the brand-new pajamas supplied by the airline, Niamh thought of Ronan. He’d liked nice things too. They’d traveled first class a lot, but they’d never taken a long enough flight to travel first class like this. Ronan would have loved it.
Tears burned in her eyes and Niamh forced them back. Ignoring her reflection in the mirror, she left the bathroom and returned to her suite to find it was now a bed. She glanced over at Kiyo who had refused turndown.
“You’re not going to sleep?”
He glanced up from his book, his gaze moving down her body now clad in soft jersey pajamas that hung too big on her torso but clung to her hips. “Maybe later.” He returned to his book.
Summarily dismissed, Niamh tried to ignore the conflicting emotions rioting inside her. She slipped into the bed just as the cabin lights dimmed. Noting Kiyo hadn’t turned on his overhead light, she whispered through the window, “You can turn on your light if you want. I can wear the sleep mask.” She’d found a bag in her suite with a sleep mask, a pair of socks, lip balm, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, and a mini deodorant in it.
Kiyo didn’t look at her. He just whispered back, “Night vision.”
Of course. He was a werewolf.
Sighing at his monosyllabic responses, Niamh pulled up the duvet and closed her eyes. Now and then, the plane would bob against the airstream, and the sensation lulled her to sleep.
Ronan’s face gleamed through the dark of her subconsciousness until she was falling and falling toward him.
Her feet landed on the ground.
She was back in Munich.
Back in that apartment.
Back where she couldn’t save him.
14
Kiyo was aware of every move Niamh made.
To his frustration, he’d had to go back and reread passages in his book because he kept getting lost. It was her fault. He was pissed at her. Really, truly pissed at her. It was better for him to stay silent so he didn’t say shit he couldn’t take back.
The problem was that he liked her.
Kiyo could admit that.
Niamh had a good heart. She was funny and determined. And he liked her.
Considering he didn’t like many people, it was frustrating that she wouldn’t confide in him. And it was even more frustrating that even experiencing her vision, he couldn’t work out what it meant for himself. There were a few images of Niamh and Rose with a man and a woman who felt similar to them. He couldn’t explain that feeling, but his common sense told him these two people were fae-borne. Niamh hadn’t been lying. This vision was about the bigger picture, about the gate … so why the hell was Kiyo mixed in with it?
It didn’t surprise him that Niamh found sleep so quickly on the plane. She must have been mentally drained. Kiyo heard her breathing relax, telling him she’d found sleep. This allowed him to concentrate fully on his book, and he found himself distracted by the story.
Not long later, however, in the dark, quiet cabin, Kiyo noticed the muted lighting flicker. He didn’t think anything of it. Sometimes that happened on flights.
But it happened again.
And again.
Niamh began to whimper.
He leaned over the window between their suites and saw she was shifting restlessly, her lashes fluttering. Small moans escaped between her parted lips.