I laughed, then sobered and looked at him. "I've told him the story. His role? No. I . . . I suppose I should. I'm just . . ." I took a deep breath. "My gut tells me he won't handle it nearly as well as you did."
"Because he's playing the role of the guy who won you? Betrayed his best friend? Lied, lied, and lied some more until the woman he loved died horribly, because he couldn't stand to share her--even in friendship--with another guy?"
"All of the above."
Ricky went quiet. After a minute, he said, "I'd like to say you're wrong, and he can handle it. You and I both know how he is, though. My advice? Don't tell him now, but if there's any chance he'll find out, you need to get the jump on that. I wouldn't have cared who told me. Gabriel will--especially if I already know. I don't want to cause trouble. I know how much he means to you."
"I--"
"I know he does, and now I understand why, and that doesn't change anything, because I always knew not to interfere, that the worst thing I could do would be to come between you two. You're with me. That's all that matters. Gwynn and Arawn might have claimed they were best friends, that they both loved Matilda, but they didn't seem to give a shit about her or about each other. I'm not that guy. I'm never going to be that guy. Gabriel is my friend. But even more, he's your friend. More your friend than mine. I will not interfere with that. Ever."
I kissed him. As I did, I pulled something from my pocket and pressed it into his hand. "For you."
He looked down at the boar's tusk.
"It's not mine," I said. "That's for you from what's-his-name."
"They don't have names?"
"I haven't asked. That would imply that I care."
He laughed. "Okay. So this is what I'm supposed to keep on me to avoid elves and wights?"
"Apparently, though he wasn't clear on that when he gave me mine. They aren't clear on anything."
He lifted the tusk and turned it over in his fingers. Then he stopped. "If this is from them, then these symbols . . ." He touched the moon. "That's the Wild Hunt. The night and the moon."
I nodded.
"Then that's you." He pointed at the intertwined moon and sun. "Sun for the fae, moon for the Hunt. You're both. Blood from both. And the moon is mine." He touched my necklace. "That's why you hesitated when I gave it to you."
"Guilt," I said. "You sensed what you are, and I wasn't telling you. I meant to--"
He kissed me to silence. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Liv. I'm just making connections. You knew what this was"--he pointed to the moon on the tusk--"when you said you wanted it for your tattoo. You knew what it symbolized. Me. The Hunt. Arawn. All of it--how it fits together, what it means."
"I still want to get it, if that's okay with you."
He paused and I held my breath.
"I'm not sure how to answer that," he said. "If I'm honest, and I say yes, then you'll feel obligated to go through with it. Which I don't want. So I'll just say that the fact you considered putting that on your body, permanently, is enough. It means enough."
--
When we returned, the Cwn Annwn had disposed of Beau. The Huntsman assured us that no one from the clubhouse would have heard the commotion.
I told the Huntsman what I'd learned about my parents and their crimes, finishing with, "Meaning they did it because someone promised them the cure for me."
"And delivered."
"So it was you. Or your kind."
"Yes."
I'd expected a denial, and when I didn't get one, my questions dried up.
Ricky took over. "You made the deal with the Larsens?"
"Yes."