Page 9 of Shamrocked
Confusion flickered through me. Did he recognize me or not? He looked like the bartender from that night, but Doran said he was a leprechaun. I didn’t believe in little men in green suits and pointy ears who guarded a pot of gold.
He coughed and covered his mouth, to hide a smile, I thought. Eyes narrowed, I watched him. If he was Faerie, as Doran had said, could he read minds? To test it out, I focused on him. :Doran said you’d better keep your pot of gold in your pants.:
The wide-eyed look on his face was comical and worth a dozen buckets of gold. :I have no such designs on the treasurekeeper.:
Now it was my turn to choke on surprise and try to smooth my face when Viviana narrowed a hard look on my face. Treasurekeeper? I had the extremely uncomfortable realization that maybe… just maybe… the gargoyle in my dreams was real.
“What’s going on here?” Viviana retorted. “I have a sneaking suspicion that my friend was assaulted in this establishment.”
Warwick turned to her and bowed again. “Never, beautiful lady. No harm would come to any woman in my presence.”
“There’s something fishy going on. This place looks nothing like what she described to me, and she can’t remember how she got home that night. That’s definitely suspicious. Only her promise to come here and track down the truth kept me from calling 911.”
“There’s no need for the authorities,” he said smoothly. “If you both would come back tonight, I think you’ll be more impressed with the premises.”
“I think I took something that night from you that I shouldn’t have.”
Warwick shook his head slowly. “Oh, no. He definitely should be in your care.”
Frustrated, I rubbed my eyes, exhausted and near tears. “He won’t let me sleep. I don’t have any peace. I don’t fucking understand what’s going on.”
He took my hand and kissed my knuckles. His touch was soothing, his palm warm, but it didn’t feel intimate. Bummer. Until that crazy dream with Doran last night, I’d entertained the idea of finding the sexy bartender for my first post-divorce fling. But now I felt like only a casual acquaintance. Maybe it was because Vivi was with me. She couldn’t help drawing men like bees to honey.
“Come back tonight with the token. I’ll explain everything that I’m able.”
“What token? The statue?”
“No.” He frowned a little. “You had to have a token to… cross.”
Token? What the fuck? This was getting weirder by the moment. Other than the gargoyle, I didn’t know what he could mean.
He looked around, his shoulders tensing. “Beware. He’s in the city. He knows the conduit has been found, though I don’t believe he has pinpointed your location yet.”
“He who? What’s going on?”
He stepped closer and gripped my arm firmly, though he didn’t hurt me. “You are the conduit. If they lose you, they’ll never be able to free Doran.”
“They who?”
“The four Irish treasures. Has he told you nothing?” He looked around again, his face tensing. “It’s not safe to talk here. Come back tonight and I’ll explain what I can. But you have to have the token to cross again.”
He pulled away and strode up the steps and through the door to the building so quickly that we could only stare at the door and each other, back and forth. Vivi ran forward and pushed the door open again, but no one was there.
I stood in the doorway and watched her look around a minute, and then it dawned on me. “It’s no use.”
She stomped back over to me. “Why?”
I pointed at the dust that lay thick on the floor. Only two sets of shoes tracked through the ramshackle building. My Converse soles, and her heeled boots.
“But we saw him come inside.”
For the first time, I heard uncertainty, and even a bit of fear, trembling in her voice. I squeezed her hand and tugged her back outside. “All we can do is come back tonight.”
“You believe him. Even though nothing he said makes sense.”
I thought of Doran in my dream, how his statue had been waiting beside the bed when Vivi woke me up. He was real. And ifhewas real…
“Yeah. I believe. Though I don’t understand one fucking thing yet.”
