Page 49 of Her Irish Treasures
“Have you a place in mind to live,mo stór?” Doran’s deep rumble shook me back to their conversation.
“Not really. I’m happy anywhere.”
“We could travel,” Keane said wistfully. “I’d love to see the homeland again.”
“That’s one thing I still don’t understand,” I said. “Why are the Irish treasures here, in Kansas City, Missouri, of all places? I would have thought you’d be reborn only in Ireland.”
“We go where the war dictates,” Aidan replied in between mouthfuls of noodles. He ate like he hadn’t had a meal in days. Maybe he hadn’t. I couldn’t remember seeing him eat until now. “Before Doran was cursed, we had long periods in Tír na nÓg, and we were only reborn to Ireland. But once we lost him, we kept getting spit out to your world quicker, over and over and over. We haven’t been back to Ireland in centuries. The demons be here, so this be where we return.”
“You’ve been fighting them awhile this time?”
He had an even bigger mouthful of lo mien, so Ivarr picked up the conversation for him. “Time is a funny thing when you’ve been reborn so many times, but near as I can remember, we’ve been back six or seven human years.”
So close to when I’d come to Kansas City and married Jonathan. Another coincidence? I didn’t think so. Why had Vivi and I been so set on coming to Kansas City? She was so smart that she had scholarships to go anywhere. She’d chosen UMKC, because I had finally gotten a full-ride scholarship from the Kansas City Art Institute.
Another coincidence? Or divine magic at play to bring me where I needed to be?
What were the chances that I’d grow up near Doran’s hiding place? That I’d have wandered the hills around the lake looking for a lost prince? That I’d come to Kansas City to study art—the very thing that helped me find him?
The talent that Jonathan had immediately squelched as soon as we married. To prevent me from finding Doran?
“I wasn’t always in the same location,” Doran said, startling me out of my reverie. “I believe I was sent to that cellar because you were near.”
“Right,” Aidan mumbled around a mouthful. “The last time I physically saw your gargoyle was in a dead-end, closed subway tunnel in New York City in the eighties.”
I couldn’t help but rub my temples, trying to follow. “Wait. You’re saying that you weren’t physically placed in the church cellar until…”
“Until you were there,” Doran replied. “My prison was not of this earth, but in an immortal plane similar to Tír na nÓg, the Land Beneath the Sea, or Over the Waves, or countless other names for Faerie. My prison appeared physically wherever the treasurekeeper was, but then faded away until she could be born again.”
“So are the demon things here only because I was born here?”
Aidan pushed away from his empty container, though his eyes narrowed on mine, as if he’d snag the rest of my cashew chicken if I dared leave a bite uneaten. “Not at all.” I felt a little better, until he added, “The demon fae be everywhere now. Your world is nigh overrun with them.”
I pushed my container over to him and he didn’t hesitate to dig in. “But that can’t be possible. I’ve never seen any of these creatures before. How can they be everywhere?”
“You were married to one,” Doran said. “Yet you did not know. How many times have you passed a changeling on the street and not noticed?”
Ouch. Blow straight to the heart. Had I really not noticed that Jonathan wasn’t human? Could you live with someone, share a bed with him, and not realize the truth? If so… “We’re fucked.”
Aidan flashed the biggest smile I’d seen from him. “Exactly so.”
“But do you see the imps and pookas here in the city? Or are they all these changeling things?”
He shrugged. “All of that and more. Fae cast a glamor so mortals can’t see their true nature. You might see a cat on the street, but it’s an imp. Or a tall, muscled man dressed in a suit headed to the office, but it’s actually a pooka. They can mask their ravenous nature until they accomplish their goal.”
“And their goal is…”
He shoved another huge mouthful of cashew chicken in answer. I winced. Eating. That was their goal. If we’d failed to free Doran in the cellar, the imps would have eaten us. Well, Aidan had supposedly arranged for Warwick to get me out of there if things went badly, but I would have been furious if he’d whisked me away while the rest of them died.
“Aren’t you finished yet?” Keane shot a frown across the table at Aidan. “Axel is set to meet us at the shop for some reconnaissance.”
Aidan grumbled around the last mouthful and pushed away from the table. “Why didn’t you say so? Call if you need us. Otherwise, we’ll meet you at the hotel later tonight.”
I would have asked for a goodbye kiss from them, but he was still chewing up that last mouthful, and a kiss from Keane would have sent me into a screaming climax. Though he did give me a sultry wink, promising to bring that magic to play later at the hotel.
Oh yeah. I was going to need to do some in-depth painting of him next. I looked over the table at Ivarr with a questioning lift of my eyebrows. “Sorry you had to miss out on their fun to stay with me all day.”
“Hardly a punishment,mo stór. I loved every minute with you, though I do have one request.”
