“You weren’t in danger.” He glanced at Ricky. “Their target was clear, and I apologize for that. If I’d thought there was a serious risk that anything would attack—”

“Serious risk?” Liv said. “How about any risk? Better yet, how about admitting why there would be a risk? And, yes, I know why. No thanks to you. I had to figure it out for myself.”

The man tilted his head, his gaze meeting hers. “Is that not the best way? The way you’d prefer? Because it seems to me—”

“I should have been told.” She clasped Ricky’s hand. “We should have been told.”

The man looked at Ricky. “So you also know . . .”

“Not yet,” Liv said. “I was working up to it. There’s a weekly limit of weird shit you can dump on anyone, and explaining you guys and the fae was quite enough to start.”

“All right, then.” He turned to Ricky. “You—”

“Uh-uh.” Liv’s hand tightened on his. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t have the right. I’ll explain—in private. You’ll stay here until I’m done.”

The man’s eyes wrinkled, amused. “Will I?”

“Yes.”

As they turned to go, the man said, “Wait. You’ll need this.” He held out his hand to Liv. She took whatever was in it and he said, “For him. He should have it.”

“He should have always had it,” Liv said.

The man nodded. “Yes. But he will now, and you shouldn’t be so careless with yours. If you’d had it on you, you wouldn’t have needed our help.”

Liv said nothing, and they headed back to where they’d left their clothing.

CHAPTER FIFTY

As furious as I was with the Cwn Annwn, they were just a convenient target. Patrick had talked about outside fae and other creatures that would have a stake in this power play between the local Tylwyth Teg and Cwn Annwn. I should have extrapolated that to mean Ricky could be targeted. I hadn’t.

Now I had to tell him what he was. I cleaned his neck wound as I did. Was I purposely keeping busy? Avoiding looking him in the face while I explained that he had Cwn Annwn blood and I’d kept that from him? Yes. But as soon as I said it, he tugged me in front of him.

“So I’m descended from them?” he said. “The Wild Hunt?”

I nodded.

“Well . . .” He paused, looking pensive. “I suppose that explains a few things. The motorcycles, for one. Substitute horses. The thrill of the ride. And earlier.”

“Earlier?”

His eyes glinted. “The thrill of the chase.”

I laughed.

He caught me in an embrace, squeezing hard and whispering in my ear, “I don’t blame you for not telling me. You’re right. There’s a weekly limit of weird shit anyone can take.”

“Have you passed yours?”