Page 57 of Her Irish Treasures
Panic tightened like a noose around my neck. Panting, I looked around for anything familiar. The condos and fountain were gone too. I sat on a small grassy island, though I could feel water seeping into my jeans. Everything was wet and muddy. The ground squelched beneath my hands and knees as I shifted my legs beneath me, panting with pain. I could move my toes, and my knee was okay. Hopefully I’d just sprained my ankle. I didn’t think I could walk, but I couldn’t sit here either. Waiting.
Waiting for whatever dark fae had set the trap to come along like a spider and feast.
Waiting for my treasures to show up and save me.
Waiting…
My whole life had been spent waiting. I’d spent five years waiting for something to change. For something to wake me up. Shake me out of the stupor I’d fallen into once I married Jonathan. I’d waited five years to make my escape from him, though I still couldn’t remember exactly what had finally rattled me enough to wake me up.
I wasn’t going to sit here waiting to die.
Though I had to be smart too. Smarter than I’d been when I married Jonathan. Smarter than when I’d let my rage sway the guys into heading back to the home I’d shared with my ex. What had I hoped to gain? Sure, it would’ve been great fun to watch Doran tear a new hole in his hide. I’d love to see Aidan pound my ex into a bloody pulp.
Instead, I’d ended up separated from my guys in some kind of swampy trap.
Gingerly, I crawled closer to the edge of the grassy island. Muddy water circled the knoll, and as I got closer to the edge, my hands sunk deeper into the sludge. Up to my elbows in thick slime that smelled like a sewer backup. A thick gray fog stretched out before me, muting the landscape. I couldn’t tell if there were more little islands in the swamp. I couldn’t see dry land. A house. Nothing.
I crawled forward another inch, and this time, my right hand kept sinking. There wasn’t anything beneath, no mud or roots that I could feel. Perilously close to dunking my face into the swamp, I reared back, struggling to pull my arm up out of the sticky muck. My hand finally popped free, and I carefully backed up to the more solid grassy area.
Trying to stay calm, I spun around slowly, straining to see beyond the fog. A way out. A path. Anything. I closed my eyes and concentrated on sounds, but it was strangely silent. I didn’t hear any insects or birds. Just the frantic pant of my breathing.
This wasn’t a natural swamp at all, or I’d be eaten up with mosquitoes. I’d hear chirps and croaks. Not silence.
Shaking with cold, pain, and exertion, I crawled back to the highest point of the little island. I pushed up, keeping my weight off my sore leg, wavering as I hopped around, trying to see if a higher vantage point would help. The same gray fog encircled me, as if the cloudy, overcast sky stretched down to the water in a thick, gloomy dome.
I started to lose my balance, so I dropped back down to the ground, crying out as my other foot bounced awkwardly on the ground. Pain shot all the way up above my knee. Not good. My shoe felt too tight. A little ice and some ibuprofen…
A sob slipped through my lips. I had to get back first.
“Riiiiiiiiiian.”
My name drawled out like that. I instantly knew who it was.
My stomach heaved.
:If you can hear me, he’s here. Jonathan. The changeling. My ex. He’s here.:
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My stomach heaved and a chill sweat broke out on my forehead. Torn between fight or flight, I wasn’t sure what to do. Squeeze my eyes shut so he couldn’t bespell me again? Or keep my eyes wide open so I could protect myself? I had no idea how I’d fallen into his control before, so how could I protect myself now?
Shiny black tips of his shoes appeared in my line of vision.
Like driving past a horrible car accident, I was compelled to look at the carnage. Black dress pants, speckled with mud. He wouldn’t be pleased about that. He’d always been very particular about his appearance. Vivi said it was because he was an average-looking man with a receding hairline. He thought by always looking like a bigwig that he could fool people into believing he was important and powerful.
Hehadbeen powerful. He’d managed to keep me from leaving for five years, even when I was miserable.
A heavy gold watch glittered on his wrist. He wore a tasteful blue patterned silk tie. Impeccable white dress shirt. Beautifully tailored jacket that looked like something Vivi’s Boss Man would wear into court.
Bracing myself, I looked up into his face, terrified but also weirdly eager to see what happened. If his eyes would glow with magic or if there’d be something outwardly visible that would betray what he really was.
But no, he looked the same, like a basic, boring businessman. Well-dressed but not particularly remarkable. His brown hair was trimmed short on the sides, longer on the top, carefully swept to the side to disguise his growing forehead. His brown eyes seemed human enough. He didn’t glow with power.
In fact, he managed to look… sad. Pained. As if he truly had missed me.
Lying bastard.
“It’s been so long. How are you, Riann?”
