“I’m okay,” he said. “If he hit anything vital, I’d have bled out by now.”

“Comforting.”

She scowled, but she swung the look away and directed it at the figure climbing off a horse. It was not the man he’d seen in his dream. While he wore a similar cloak and rode a similar horse, this man was older, maybe his father’s age, similar in size and even in looks. As Ricky watched him, he heard his grandmother’s stories about the Wild Hunt, and he had no doubt what he was seeing, no more than he’d doubted Beau was not human.

Liv strode toward the man. “What the hell is that?” She pointed at Beau, who lay on the grass, not moving.

I’ve killed a man.

No, not a man. Not really.

Does it matter?

It didn’t, but when Ricky looked at Beau’s corpse, only a pang of intellectual horror darted through him. He’d done what he’d had to. Beau attacked him, attacked Liv, and there was no doubt his intentions had been lethal. The response had to be equally strong.

“Dökkálfar,” the man said.

Ricky looked up sharply, then realized he was answering Liv’s question about Beau.

“Which is . . . ?” she said.

“A dark elf.”

“Elf?”

“Not from the North Pole.” The man’s lips tweaked in a smile. “Before you ask.”

“I was thinking Middle Earth, but both come from the same place. Norse, Germanic . . .” She looked at Beau. “I’m guessing he does, too?”

“Originally. Another immigrant, from centuries past.”

“And those other creatures?”

“Disir. Also known as wights. Norse as well. They’re usually protective spirits, guarding land or water. Here, being dispossessed, they often protect a being, such as a dark elf.”

“Fascinating.” Liv’s tone ought to have warned the man, but he only nodded, pleased at her attentiveness. She stepped in front of him. “That elf tried to kill Ricky. It lured him away from me and tried to kill him.”

“Yes, it does seem—”

“Does seem? You never gave me a word of warning. Never told me he could be a target. Never. Said. One. Word.”

Liv shook with fury, her voice barely above a whisper. She stood there, wearing only the open shirt, the necklace glittering in the moonlight, furious and fearless and magnificent, and the man smiled, pleased again. Ricky strode to them, his hackles rising. The man nodded, and Ricky had no idea what that nod meant, but he relaxed.

The man took off his cloak and held it out to Liv.

“No, thank you,” she said. “If you’re offended, turn around. I don’t usually wander around the forest naked, but then I’m not usually ambushed and forced to fight for my life quite so soon after waking.”