Tetra threw up her hands. “How else am I supposed to go?”

“I was getting to that!” Val snapped. “Her Majesty left some clothes in her old apartment, and I put them in the closet for guests. You seem to be the right size. Go change.”

Tetra jerked to her feet like an unwilling puppet.

Val raised a hand. “On your own time.”

Tetra flopped back onto the couch with a moan.

“Sorry.” Val cleared her throat, trying to hold on to her authoritative tone. “I do have a few real orders, though. Don’t harm anyone, and don’t allow anyone to see that you have magic. Is that clear?”

“What would it matter if it wasn’t?” Tetra raised her arms, then allowed them to drop back on the couch. “I don’t have a choice.”

Val rubbed her face. “You’re not making it easy to be nice to you.”

Tetra scoffed. “This is nice?”

“Just be ready to go out at six, okay?” Val snapped.

She stormed out of the apartment before she could give in to the temptation to break Tetra’s neck.

Amazingly, Tetra was not only decent at six that evening, but she looked attractive. Val raised her eyebrows as she stood in the apartment doorway, inspecting the faerie.

“Not bad,” she admitted.

Tetra ran her hands over her skin-tight black jeans, which were dotted with chains and studs. Val had difficulty imagining the queen wearing them, but she supposed the Eternity Queen had had a rebel stage. The silky purple blouse tempered the jeans’ roughness, and both fit Tetra’s petite frame surprisingly well.

“Are we leaving or what?” Tetra snapped.

The rumble of an engine outside announced Liam’s arrival.

“I’m going to introduce you to a friend, okay?” Val folded her arms. “Don’t make me order you to be nice to him.”

Tetra sneered. “One of your human cohort, I assume.”

“Yes.” Val raised her chin. “Should I order you now to save time, or⁠—”

“No. Don’t!” Tetra lifted her hands. “I’ll be nice.”

“Good.” Val stomped down the stairs.

Tetra’s light footsteps followed her into the garage as the door rose with metallic clanks. Genevieve flipped her windshield wipers reproachfully.

“I know, I know.” Val patted the Mustang’s roof. “But being the designated driver will motivate him not to drink. You have to stay here.”

Genevieve’s side mirrors drooped.

Liam’s Toyota sedan rumbled into the garage, looking shabby and boring next to Genevieve. Val was glad to see that he’d taken it to the car wash. He stepped out of the driver’s seat, freshly shaved and smelling of cheap cologne.

“Evening, ladies.” Liam grinned.

“Debatable,” Val muttered.

“What was that?” Liam asked.

Val cleared her throat. “Nothing. Hey, Lee? I hope you don’t mind if Tetra tags along.” She gestured at the faerie. “She’s the new tenant in my apartment. She only moved in yesterday, so I offered to bring her along to see the Iron Fist and meet people.”

Liam met Tetra’s eyes and smiled broadly. “I don’t mind at all. Hi, Tetra. It’s great to meet you.” He extended a hand.

Val glared daggers at the faerie.

Tetra kept her hands firmly in her pockets. “Hello.”

Liam lowered his hand. “New to the City?”

“She moved here from overseas,” Val interjected. “From France. Everything feels foreign to her.”

Tetra’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” she growled. “Foreign.”

“I’m sure you’ll fall in love with Brooklyn.” Liam beamed. “There’s nowhere else on Earth quite like it.” He opened the passenger door. “Ready to go?”

Val nudged Tetra forward.

“Um, yeah,” the faerie mumbled. She slid into the passenger seat.

Val chose the back seat behind Tetra, citing the extra legroom. She would need it if the faerie misbehaved and required a kick or two along the way.

No kicks were necessary. Tetra sulked in the passenger seat while Liam pointed out the sights as they drove the short distance to the Iron Fist. Her mood failed to deter him.

“That’s the statue of George Washington.” Liam’s arm strayed dangerously near the faerie’s teeth as he pointed across the car. “It’s the reason this is called ‘Continental Army Plaza.’”

That made no sense to Val. Was George Washington a warrior?

Tetra grunted. “Uh-huh.”

“Here we are!” Liam concluded brightly, steering the sedan into Val’s reserved parking spot in front of the Iron Fist. “The greatest watering hole in New York City.”

Val laughed. “That’s a bold statement, Lee.”

“I mean it.” Liam opened his door. “You and Enzo have done great things with this place.”

They disembarked and crossed the sidewalk to the little bar. It was squeezed into the ground floor of one of the many square, staid buildings surrounding the plaza. Golden firelight poured from its glass door and windows. The corroded metal sign hanging over the door read The Iron Fist.

“Looks Iron Dw—” Tetra began.