Page 60 of Her Irish Treasures
Die inside a nasty frog hole. Or go with my ex-husband changeling to his home somewhere in Faerie? I was under no illusion that he’d simply let me go when he got what he wanted—even if he was right that I possessed some secret knowledge he needed. I had to assume it was a protected place in the Otherworld where even Warwick couldn’t find me. How would he even know where to look?
I didn’t know who this asshole was. Let alone where he was taking me.
Desperate, I glanced back at Jonathan. He offered me his hand. Impatient, perhaps even nervous, he snapped, “Hurry. We must go. Now.”
Why didn’t he just grab my hand and whisk me away? Warwick could have snapped his fingers and we’d be sitting at his bar, waiting on Doran and the guys to show up.
Warwick. Of course. I jammed my hand down into my jeans pocket, fumbling to find his coin. Cold metal against my fist.
:I need you.:
A thin curtain of green suddenly flared around me. Jonathan’s mouth sagged open, jagged teeth clashing with fury.
Warwick’s arms close around me. I smelled his lush, flowery scent, his long black hair tumbling around me like the finest silk. “Bloody hell, Riann. I thought you’d never call me.”
13
Green and gold fireworks flashed all around us. Clutching Warwick, I didn’t even look around. I didn’t care where we went, as long as it was away. With his arms around me, all my suspicions faded away to nothing.
This was right. Safe. I felt as safe in his arms as I did in Doran’s embrace. I didn’t care what they thought about leprechauns in general. I didn’t care what Jonathan had tried to imply about Warwick’s neutrality. He’d come to my aid, exactly as he’d promised, when no one else could.
“Thank you,” I whispered, lifting my head from his chest.
“Greenshanks at your service,mo stór.” He leaned down to gently kiss my forehead. “Welcome to the Summer Isle.”
His home in Faerie.
Color assaulted my senses, so bold and vivid that I could hear and taste what I was seeing. Pink sky tasted like cotton candy, sweet and melting on my tongue, but it sounded like high, sweet flutes trilling a gentle melody above the noise all around me. Purple and red flowers tumbled in a crashing crescendo that tasted like pops of cayenne and curry against the sweetness of the sky. Giant yellow platters sang a deep, bass melody and tasted like lemony sunshine. They looked like sunflowers, only with white centers instead of brown. Even the white seared my eyes with intensity, as if a million-watt bulb burned in the center.
I dragged my gaze back up to Warwick’s face. A glimmering green aura hung about his head, tasting and smelling like fresh herbs plucked from the garden. The sweetness of mint, the bite of rosemary, brightened with lemongrass and grassy parsley. His long black hair flowed like ribbons of silky night through the green. His eyes glowed like golden suns, casting enough heat and light that I could feel the warmth of his gaze on my cheeks.
“Wow.”
His lips quirked and he entwined his arm with mine. “Allow me to give you a tour,mo stór.”
I took a step and my leg immediately gave out, pain shooting up to my knee again.
He caught me, sweeping me up against his chest. “Lady, forgive me. I didn’t know you were injured.”
My whole leg throbbed from my foot to my knee, making my breath catch in my chest. “When Doran set me down in the parking lot, something caught me and started dragging me toward the fountain. My lower leg jammed into a curb. I hope it’s just sprained.” My voice broke on the last part. Now that I was safe, I couldn’t hold back the tears. “It hurts pretty bad though. I’m afraid it might be broken. At least I didn’t hurt both legs.”
He carried me toward an archway covered in flowery blue vines that added a deep bass trombone-like sound to the cacophony. Though as we neared, I realized the flowers were butterflies, wings fluttering gently. They didn’t fly away as we passed through.
“The fountain was a trap keyed to you alone. If you’d driven there, it would have activated as soon as you stepped out of the car. Anyone could have been able to cross the portal unwittingly, but the magical trap engaged as soon as it sensed you nearby. Naturally, it was set to refuse access to anyone else once it caught you, in case you had assistance nearby.”
Immediately, I thought of the guys. My treasures. Left behind, helpless to reach me… They must be frantic and furious.
Warwick laughed softly. “They are indeed, but have no fear. Time slows to a faint crawl in Faerie, almost nonexistent in the mortal plane. There’s no rush to get you back to them.”
One moment we were in a garden. The next, he was striding across soft white marble with vivid green and gold veins. The assailing noise and colors from outside faded away, leaving me drifting on a soft fluffy cloud of peace. Bending down, he set me on a velvety green chaise, carefully lifting my sore leg up to slide a pillow beneath. A small round table held a crystal pitcher that glistened with some kind of liquid, cups, a plate of what looked like cookies or little finger sandwiches, and a silver bell that tinkled when he gave it a quick shake.
“Let’s see what ails thee.” Kneeling beside me, he loosened the laces and gently worked my shoe off. Though I still hissed with pain. “What questions do you have while we wait for assistance?”
“If I didn’t have your coin in my pocket, would you have still been able to come?”
“Aye, though having the coin made it infinitely easier for me to penetrate Fhroig’s lair. It also ensured our effortless escape before the changeling could interfere without a need to expend all my magic. I could have reached you either way, but lucky indeed that you had me gold on your person.”
I thought a moment, wincing as he carefully tried to roll my pants leg up. There were other questions I wanted to ask him. Hard questions. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know the answers. If hehadconned me… I didn’t want to know.
