Page 47 of Her Irish Treasures
“Jonathan,” I whispered. “Blake.”
Aidan pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “And where did you meet Jonathan Blake,mo stór?”
It wasn’t a trick question. It should be easy to answer. But it was like pulling open the drawer in a filing cabinet and finding only empty manilla folders. The spots were there, perfectly labeled and organized. Just… empty.
I gave him the most likely answer. “College, I think. Vivi went to UMKC, and I went to the Kansas City Art Institute. I think I met him at an event.”
“You think?”
I closed my eyes, scanning those mental folders again. Concentrating fiercely. “I don’t remember exactly.”
“Where did you go on your first date?” Doran’s low rumble made me shiver.
“I didn’t date much. I was busy painting or hanging out with Vivi.” All true. “I didn’t have a lot of experience with guys.”
Aidan’s mouth brushed my ear, his hot breath making my hair tickle my skin. “I didn’t ask you about guys in general. I be asking about Jonathan Blake. The man you married.”
“I honestly don’t remember. I must have blocked it from my memory.”
His hand came up around my nape, pulling me against his chest. “Or those memories were taken from you.”
I breathed in his scent. The fresh, clean scent of his cotton T-shirt. Dark, luscious leather sprinkled with the bite of gunpowder. So good. I couldn’t be upset or scared with the Slaughterer on my side. Surrounded by his friends. My lovers.
Then why did my stomach clench on another pulse of dread? “Who would have done such a thing?”
“Describe him for us,” Doran said. “What did he look like?”
“He’s about five foot ten. He always called Vivi an Amazon because she was taller than him. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Average build.” It dawned on me that he’d asked what he’d looked like—as in the past. “He’s still alive as far as I know. In fact, he finally signed the divorce papers after fighting me for nearly a year.”
Doran shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry to say that the man you might have loved is dead, Riann. He is no more.”
“How?” I whispered numbly. “How could you know that? Surely someone would have called me.”
Aidan heaved out a heavy sigh. “Changeling.”
I searched his frosty-blue eyes, surprised by the hint of regret in his tone. “What’s that?”
“Sometimes a fae swaps himself out for a human, whether baby or adult. One sure way to identify a changeling is a suddenly ravenous appetite.”
I tried to laugh, but it sounded like a choked sob. “I don’t remember him eating that much.”
“He didn’t eat food.” Aidan leaned closer, pressing his forehead to mine, his grip surprisingly gentle on my nape. “He ate your memories. That’s why you can’t remember meeting him. Falling in love. Even bad memories. They’re gone, destroyed by the fae who stole your husband’s life.”
I jerked back away from him, forcing another harsh laugh. “You must be mistaken. I didn’t know about any of this fairy stuff then. I hadn’t foundShamrockedor met Warwick. I didn’t even bring Doran’s statue home until a week ago. When did this fae supposedly take Jonathan’s place?”
“You won’t be able to remember.” Keane’s usually sultry voice was somber, echoing with grief. For me. For the memories that I’d lost. “We’ll have to ask Viviana if she noticed a particular event or time when the man you married suddenly seemed different.”
“But I remember certain things,” I protested, still unable to wrap my mind around the idea. “We were married for five years. I was so unhappy, hating my job, hating my life. I wanted…”
Bits of flimsy, wispy images fluttered through my mind. Tattered and worn and thin. I’d been going to the Institute. I’d always intended to be an artist. I’d worked really hard to get accepted into the program on scholarship, because I sure didn’t have the money for tuition.
Jonathan would have known that I wanted to be an artist. Yet that was the first thing I’d given up. He’d never come right out and forbade me to paint, but he’d ridiculed and belittled me, or implied I was hurting our future together by neglecting a “real” career. Slowly making me feel worse until I gave in.
Until I gave up my dream. The one thing I had always loved.
Tears trickled down my cheeks. Vivi had tried to tell me early on in our relationship that something was wrong. But after he hit on her…
I hadn’t wanted him around her again. I hadn’t trusted him, and I hadn’t wanted to expose her to any more of his bullshit. In my own stupid way, I’d been trying to protect her from the man I’d married.
