Page 7 of Evil Eyed
“The necklace,” Warwick whispered hoarsely.
I leaned closer, focusing on the tiny circlet that hung from her neck. A red oval looked like a ruby stone, but up close, I could see four delicate wings etched against her shining skin. “Is that important?”
“Aye,” Doran replied. “It explains much.”
“Étain,” Warwick continued. “The Shining One. The Fairest One.”
“She was beautiful beyond words,” Keane whispered reverently. “So lovely that Midir was obsessed with her, earning his first wife’s jealousy. Fuamnach transformed her into a dragonfly and then blew her out to sea. She was lost for hundreds of years but fell into a cup and was swallowed by a human woman, who birthed a mortal Étain, still as lovely as ever. A thousand years after he first lost her, Midir came and took her back home to the Land Beneath the Waves.”
I didn’t understand why Warwick dragged his gaze from the painting and looked at me with such raw… emotion. Admiration, even adoration. As if… I forced out an uneasy laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. I must have read a book on Irish folklore in school to come up with such a painting.”
“You don’t believe it,” he said slowly, shaking his head. “When you painted the truth yourself.”
“Believe what? What are you saying?” I looked from one man to another, increasingly bewildered. They looked at me like I’d sprouted angel’s wings complete with halo. Even Vivi looked at me like she didn’t recognize me. Her mouth opened slightly, her eyes round with awe.
“I’m not her, if that’s what you’re implying. I can’t be.” I forced out another laugh and held my arms out, turning from side to side. “In case you missed it, I’m just a bit shorter and rounder than the lovely fairy princess in the painting. Who has wings, by the way, and gorgeous purple hair and huge glowing crystals where her eyes should be. I’d be more inclined to believe Vivi was a reincarnated fairy princess than me. She’s tall, willowy, and drop-dead gorgeous. All she needs is pointy ears.”
Eyes narrowed and lips tightly pursed, that drop-dead gorgeous friend stomped over to me, planted her hands on her hips, and glared. “You’ve always been magic, whether you believe it or not. I’ve told you over and over that you’re beautiful and crazy talented. You just never believed me. Now we have proof.”
I rolled my eyes, more embarrassed than anything. “Proof? A painting I don’t even remember doing?”
Doran cupped my chin in his big palm, tipping my face way back, turning my face side to side, as if looking for even some faint resemblance to the shining woman in the painting. “It’s as clear as the dragonfly on her throat now that I know what to look for.” He dropped down on one knee before me and bowed his head. “My lady. We’re honored to protect you on the mortal plane until you can return to Tír na nÓg.”
Cheeks burning, I pushed at his shoulder, trying to make him stop. “Get up. Don’t be ridiculous. Nothing has changed. I’m not her. I’m me! Riann Newkirk. I’m a dork. Too quiet and shy and….” Human.
Not if I’m fae.
One by one, the other four men came closer and knelt in an arc around me. Shoulder to shoulder, they pressed together, a wall of broad shoulders and muscle.
Frustrated tears burned my eyes, unease and shame twisting my stomach. I wasn’t her. I couldn’t be. The idea that I was some legendary beauty was laughable and humiliating. I didn’t want them to hold me to that kind of impossible standard, because I knew exactly how short I would come against that mark.
I would lose them when the truth came out. I didn’t want them to think I was a fraud. A failure. I could paint, sure, but I wasn’t even a famous artist.
Just me. An undiscovered, divorced, broke, awkward, wanna-be artist living in Kansas City, Missouri.
“I don’t look anything like her,” I repeated, my voice cracking. “There’s nothing remarkable about my dark brown hair or muddy eyes. Let alone being so short that my feet dangle from most chairs. By the time I find jeans to fit my hips, they’re ten feet too long for me. I know nothing about your legends and stories. I can’t possibly be her. It doesn’t make sense at all.”
Vivi stepped around Keane and looped her arm around my shoulders. “Honey, shut your mouth and listen to me. You’ve always been beautiful. It’s more than just surface beauty, though you have that too. When you’re happy, you have a light that shines out of you that is so beautiful that I recognized it immediately as something magical long before we knew anything about the treasures or leprechauns. That light drew me to you when we were kids, and I’m sure it drew Jonathan’s attention too. Just a glimpse is enough to make you want to see more.
“That’s why I hated him so much, because your light started to die. You weren’t safe, you weren’t happy, and your light dimmed until I was afraid it was gone forever. You don’t have to have purple hair and wings for me to place my hand on a Bible and swear that you’re too magical for this world.”
Warwick took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “You may not be Étain herself, but she shines in you. The essence of a fae princess swallowed by a mortal woman and born a mortal child, still shining with the purest light. I told you before that I fell in love with you as soon as I saw the painting, charmed by the beauty and light it radiated. Only someone carrying shining magic could create something so beautiful, and I was right. You’re just as beautiful as the painting you created.”
5
DORAN
Aslow yet hot flame of fury kindled in my gut, building in intensity until I wanted to rage and tear this house down to the ground. I surged to my feet and seized Riann’s hand, dragging her quickly to stand before her masterpiece.
“Give me a mirror,” I growled, holding my hand back behind me.
I expected the leprechaun to slap a hand-held mirror into my palm but Warwick did one better. A full-length mirror shimmered into place beside the painting. I stepped behind her, planting my hands firmly on her shoulders, holding her in place. Watching her gaze in the mirror.
She immediately flinched away from looking at herself.
My rage shimmered hotter. “Who made you feel as though you weren’t beautiful? Who told you such lies? The changeling? Your parents? Who dared commit such an outrage?”
She shook her head, a practiced move to make her hair tumble down over her face, hiding her eyes. “I don’t know.”
