Deceptions
Page 98
Silence. So sudden it was almost as disorienting. He squeezed his eyes shut until he felt a hand against his neck, Liv wriggling out from under him.
He opened his eyes as she pressed her shirt hard to the wound.
“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.”
“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.”
He opened his eyes as she pressed her shirt hard to the wound.
“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.”
“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.”
