Ricky caught my shoulder as I crawled past and whispered, “Stop worrying. That’s what she’s really doing—trying to make you feel like you’re neglecting me.” When I didn’t respond, he squeezed my shoulder and nodded toward my ankle tattoo. “You said you aren’t getting rid of that, so I know where I stand. Stop fretting. We stick together, the three of us. That’s how it works, right? The only way it works.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, and kissed his cheek.

“Hey, Gabriel?” Ricky called. “Liv just gave me a kiss on the cheek. I’m letting you know before this sluagh-bitch tries to make it sound like we’re two seconds from screwing on the floor here.”

Gabriel’s snort of a laugh wafted up from the hole.

“You all think you’re such clever children,” the sluagh said.

“Just go,” Gabriel called. “Both of you. We’ll find a way out.”

“He’s right,” Patrick added. “If you stay, that only means four of us need to escape this place. We’re fine. We’ll figure this out.”

“So there’s that option,” the sluagh said. “It presumes we’ll let anyone leave, which we won’t, but you can certainly try. For amusement’s sake, though you might not find it quite so entertaining.”

“What do you want?” I asked.

“It’s already told us that,” Patrick called up. “The sluagh would like to throw their hat in the ring, as a suitor for your affections.”

Ricky snorted a choking laugh. “Seriously?”

“He means with the fae and the Hunt,” Gabriel said. “A third competitor.”

“Still, doesn’t that mean they need a champion?” Ricky said. “I definitely want to see their champion. I think you’re in for some stiff competition there, Gabriel.”

“We do not have a champion,” the sluagh said. “We do not need one. Ours is not a campaign of subtle wooing and flowery promises. We convince. And we are doing exactly that, demonstrating that we can find you, anywhere, anytime, and threaten those you love. Kill those you love. Or do you require a more overt lesson in that?”

“Threats won’t—” I began.

“—work. Oh, yes, I believe threats work much better than flattery and gifts and promises. The trick is to be very, very clear that those threats are not empty. So let’s do that now. The cost of leaving is a life. Choose one, Olivia.”

My gut chilled. “Don’t you—”

“Not Gabriel. We’ll remove him from the options, knowing he will never be the one you sacrifice. So choose between the other two. Arawn or the bòcan. Which may we have for letting Gabriel go free?”

“If you touch either, you will never win my favor.”