The Mustang’s engine rumbled, underscoring the heavy silence as Val steered her out of the palace grounds. Exhaustion made her bones feel heavy, but adrenaline buzzed in her body, keeping her eyes open.

The faerie hissed at the griffins as they drove through the gates. Val grimaced and raised a hand in apology.

“You can’t do that,” she snapped. “That’s the Eternal Guard. They’ll disembowel you.”

“Fools bound by pathetic rules and laws that have no place in a world of death and defeat,” the faerie hissed. “They won’t touch me.”

Anger smoldered in Val’s gut. “Those rules and laws are why you’re still alive, faerie.”

Fourth was silent as Genevieve purred down the road. Val shifted the gears automatically and steered the Mustang onto the freeway, then blended with the steady stream of traffic. Avalon Town, populated by werewolves and vampires, never slept.

“Where are we going?” the faerie demanded.

Val gripped the steering wheel. “New York City.”

“I don’t know where that is,” Fourth snapped.

Val sighed. “It’s one of the largest cities in the human world.”

“We’re leaving Avalon?” The faerie stared at her.

“Yeah. You have a problem with that?” Val asked.

The faerie looked away. “I don’t get to have a problem with anything anymore.”

“Don’t feel too sorry for yourself,” Val snapped. “You tried to murder your sister.”

The faerie huffed. Silence reigned as they bumped across Avalon Plaza and approached the portal on the far side.

“Ever gone through a magic portal before?” Val asked.

The faerie shook her head, chopped hair bouncing around her ears.

“Well, please try not to throw up in my car,” Val muttered.

Genevieve honked.

“Sorry, Gennie. I know you’re your own person.” Val patted the steering wheel.

They entered the portal, and Val squeezed her eyes shut, still not used to her guts feeling like they were turning inside out. The faerie gagged, but when Val opened her eyes, there was no sign of puke. Fourth clutched the handle above the window and leaned on the dash, shaking.

“It’s cool. We’re fine,” Val assured her.

“I know,” the faerie growled.

Val sighed. “Welcome to the Big Apple.”

The faerie looked around, taking in 110th Street, Manhattan, as they eased away from Central Park and blended with the bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Just my luck, Val thought grumpily. Not only am I stuck with this feral-ass woman, but it’s rush hour in the human world.

Horns blared around them. Genevieve added her voice to the cacophony and squeezed between a sedan and a semi. Val pretended to hold the wheel and let the Mustang do her thing.

“I don’t see any apples,” the faerie mumbled.

“It’s a nickname. I don’t know why. Look,” Val added, “why don’t you pick a name like Sinatria did?”

“Why should I?” the faerie barked. “She betrayed us all.”

“Betrayed!” Val turned to her. “You tried to kill her!”

“You keep nattering about that!” Fourth threw her hands in the air. “Let it go, okay?”

“It’s not that simple,” Val barked. “You did something terrible.”

“I know!” the faerie shot back. “And I’ve been sentenced to be your slave for thirteen years because of it. I don’t need the reminder!”

“Fine,” Val spat, “but pick a name, okay? That’s how it works here!”

“I don’t want to be here,” the faerie retorted. “Why should I pick a name? I’m a faerie. Our names are secret.”

“You don’t have to use your true name,” Val growled. “Do what Sinatria did and choose a nickname.”

“I will not follow in her footsteps.” The faerie folded her arms.

“You would do well to do so!” Val yelled. “She’s twice the person you’ll ever be.”

“Ha!” The faerie snorted. “She’s a traitor to our kind. She’s⁠—”

“Shut up!” Val shouted.

The faerie’s mouth snapped closed. Rage boiled in her eyes, but her lips stayed pressed together, and she made no sound.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” Val sighed. “How do I reverse an order?”

The faerie shrugged, hatred sizzling from her like heat.

“Okay, you can talk again,” Val attempted.

“Screw you,” the faerie barked.

“I said I was sorry, okay?” Val shook her head. “Look, I’m new to this too, but I won’t order you around more than necessary. Believe it or not, I want a better future for you.”

“Then release me,” the faerie ground out.

“I don’t think that’s right for you or anyone else.” Val inhaled, held the breath, and waited for the anger to seep from her veins. “If this is going to work, you need to make an effort to fit in with the humans.”

The faerie sneered. “Why should I?”