"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?"
"Not yet, but I have a feeling there's more to come." He settled me on his lap. "Want to tell me who Arawn is?"
I stiffened.
"You do know, then. Can I ask? Or have you reached your weekly limit of weird shit you care to explain?"
I exhaled. "It's a long story."
"I'd like to hear it."
I nodded and told him everything. About Matilda and Gwynn and Arawn. Then about the three of us--the roles we played in that old drama.
When I finished, he said, "Huh." Then, "Well, that explains even more."
"Like why you stick with a girl who causes you so much trouble?"
He said nothing, just sat there and looked at me until I squirmed and said, "Sorry."
Ricky shifted closer, our legs brushing. "Like you said, this isn't reincarnation. We aren't them. Thank God for that, because the guys both sound like self-centered pricks." He paused. "Does Gabriel know?"
I choked out a laugh. "The phrase 'self-centered prick' prompted that question?"
"Not entirely. But I don't know what's tougher to swallow--me as King of the Underworld or Gabriel as King of the Fairies."