“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?”
“Like it or not, this is your home now.” Val gestured through the windshield at the glittering mass of vehicles crawling between Manhattan’s skyscrapers. “Here, people have names.”
“I have a name,” the faerie snarled.
Val shook her head. “Correction. Here, people have names they tell each other.”
The faerie didn’t look at her, but her tone was quieter when she spoke. “Why don’t you simply order me to tell you my true name?”
Val fell back in her seat. “What?”
“You could. I would have to tell you,” the faerie muttered.
Val shook her head. “Why in Merlin’s name would I do that?”
“Because you can. Because it would degrade me and perhaps give you more power than you already have over me.” Fourth’s words escaped between clenched teeth.
Val sighed. “Believe it or not, I’m not out to get you, girl. I know that faeries’ true names are considered sacred, and I won’t invade something that important to you unless it’s a matter of life and death.”
The faerie glanced at her, and her shoulders loosened, though her arms remained crossed. “Okay.”
Blaring horns prevented conversation in the car for a few minutes. Val rubbed the bridge of her nose, too tired for this.
“Fine. I’ll respond to a nickname,” the faerie muttered grudgingly. “You’ll have to choose it, though. I don’t know what human names sound like.”
Val fished for ideas. “I could call you Jane Doe, but that’s boring. You need a name that suits you. Something exotic.” She shrugged. “Sinatria referred to you as ‘Fourth’ because you’re fourth in line. We could base your name on that. Quadra, maybe. Or Tetra.”
The faerie tilted her head.
“Tetra?” Val pressed. “You like that, huh?”
“It’ll work,” the faerie conceded.
“Then you need a surname.” Val stared at the billboards as they reached the interstate, the traffic now flowing slightly faster. She picked a name at random. “Dupont. Tetra Dupont. Does that work for you?”
The faerie shrugged. “I suppose it’s fine.”
“Cool.” Val tried for a smile. “Nice to meet you, Tetra.”
Tetra neither looked at her nor said anything. They drove the rest of the way to Val’s house in silence.
Relief washed over Val as the garage door clanged shut behind Genevieve. She got out and stretched, soreness rippling through her muscles.
“Okay, we’re here,” she announced. “Welcome to your new home.”
Genevieve opened her passenger door and tilted, helpfully expelling Tetra onto the garage floor.
“Gennie, seriously,” Val hissed. “I know she called you a ‘thing,’ but calm your spoiler down.”
Genevieve honked.
Tetra stumbled to her feet and looked around. “An acceptable cave.”
“No, dumbass. I didn’t mean this room.” Val sighed. “Come on. Let me show you to your apartment.”
“Apartment?” Tetra asked.
“You’ll see. This way.” Val gestured to the new wrought-iron stairs that ascended the garage wall in sleek lines. Her boots thudded on the solid steps as she led Tetra to the door, which was attractively paneled in oak with cast-iron fittings. She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.
