wrapped her arms around him, shocking him. “Hold on tight! Don’t let go!”
Kiyo did as she demanded without thought and abruptly everything went black.
And then cold.
Wet and cold and darkness surrounded him, pressure pushing down on his chest.
It took him a moment to realize where he was.
In water.
Drowning in the dark depths of the sea.
6
Breaking through the surface, Niamh gasped for breath. Even though she’d never die from lack of oxygen, her “human” mind liked to trick her into thinking she would. She blamed it on having been raised among them. “Kiyo!” she yelled as she scanned her surroundings. In the distance, she could see the coast.
Traveling had limitations. As much as she would have loved to have taken them to land, they’d been flying over the Baltic Sea, which was at least a thousand miles long. Considering she could only travel around six miles or so, it was a bloody miracle she’d gotten them this close to land.
Well, gotten herself this close to land.
Panic clawed at her. “Kiyo!”
Nothing.
“Oh my God, I’ve killed him.” Her teeth chattered. Not from the cold, since she barely felt it, but from emotion. From grief.
First all those people on the plane … “KIYO!”
“I’m here!”
Relief flooded her as she turned. Kiyo was swimming the front crawl at a rapid pace toward her. Niamh swam to meet him. A human would have struggled in the choppy water but they reached each other in good time. Fighting the urge to throw her arms around him in relief, knowing he wouldn’t welcome it, Niamh gave him a tremulous smile. “Sorry. That gift has its limits.”
Kiyo’s narrowed eyes flew above her head, and it was then she became aware of the terrible, mechanical whining sound. She turned in the water, kicking to keep afloat, and stared in horror as she watched the plane come down in the distance.
“It’s gonna hit the water and we’ll probably feel it,” Kiyo said, his voice urgent.
“Waves, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
That wouldn’t be a problem for her but werewolves weren’t immortal. They could drown. At least, if Kiyo was worried, she assumed he could.
The wolf was a giant mystery.
“Okay. I might have another bout of traveling in me.” She pointed to the coast. “I can get us there.”
“Do it.”
Niamh moved into him, her body hyperaware this time of being pressed tightly to his. His hands had just settled on her hips when she gathered her energy around him.
The blackness of traveling was quick.
They fell onto the beach, this time not separating.
Kiyo’s grunt reverberated through Niamh’s body since he’d taken the brunt of the fall and she was straddling him. Their eyes locked, and a thrilling shiver cascaded through Niamh that had nothing to do with the soaked clothes stuck to her skin.
He was still holding on to her hips and she felt his fingers flex, squeezing her.
Heat pooled in her belly.
His dark gaze dropped to her mouth.
The sound of something making terrific impact in the water broke the electric moment, and Niamh was brought crashing back to reality. She pushed her exhausted body from his and stood to turn and face the sea.
Waves rippled, coming toward them. They grew smaller and smaller as they headed for the coast.
“All those people.” The grief hit her anew.
“Why do they keep doing this?” Kiyo asked, irritation lacing his words. “They’ve sent so many coven members after you fae-borne, and you’ve all triumphed over every one of them. Why won’t they stop? Is it idiocy or arrogance?”
“Fanaticism,” she answered. “They’re so obsessed with the idea of unlimited power, they’ll sacrifice themselves to get it.” Niamh looked over at him. His hair had come out of its top knot and fell in wet, thick strands around his face, the ends hitting his chin. He had grains of sand in his hair; his back was covered in it.
His beauty hurt her a little. She wished it were enough to distract from what had just happened, but not even Kiyo could do that. “They killed all those innocent people. I killed them,” she confessed.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he replied gruffly. “You’re not responsible for someone else’s actions.”
“No, I mean, I killed the coven members.”
She could feel his eyes burning into her.
“So? You were defending us.”
“I could have just knocked them out.”
“They’d have died in the crash, anyway. Drowned.”
“I’ve killed people.”
At his silence, she remembered his words on the plane.
“You’re soft. You care about strangers and it makes you weak. That’s not to be admired, Niamh, when that weakness could cause a war. So