“There!” she snarled. “He’s on the bridge!”

Genevieve accelerated even more, pursuing the silver speck on the horizon. The river glittered beneath them as the bridge’s steelwork flashed past on either side. The dotted line became a continuous white blur with speed.

They were gaining on the sedan. Smoke whirled from its exhaust as its driver pushed the car to its limits, but Genevieve closed the distance. Val could make out the brand on the back: a silver Lexus ES.

No match for a magically enhanced Mach 1.

The lights of Manhattan rushed up to meet them. As they neared the end of the bridge, Val was close enough to read the Lexus’ license plate. She memorized it as Genevieve’s shrieking engine brought them to within yards of the sedan.

The river disappeared, and they sped through Manhattan’s skyline, awash in lights. Red lights loomed ahead as traffic swished across the intersection.

“Don’t do it!” Val ground out. “Don’t!”

The Lexus accelerated as a city bus rolled toward the intersection.

“No!” Val yelped.

Genevieve slammed on the brakes. The seat belt snatched Val’s breath. Horns shrieked as the Lexus darted around the bus, metal screeching as its side mirror scraped the bus’ hood. The bus braked hard, skidding, and all traffic in the intersection blared to a halt.

She flopped back in the seat, breathing hard. Traffic was a gleaming wall around her.

“Merlin’s ingrown ass hairs,” she cursed.

Drivers swore at each other through open windows, but all the cars seemed unscathed. The bus rumbled off, and the flow of traffic resumed. Genevieve rolled forward when the light turned green, and they rumbled into the maze of streets in the Financial District.

“We’re never going to find him, Gennie,” Val muttered.

Genevieve’s dials flipped in agreement.

“Come on.” Val sighed. “Let’s get back to the Fist and see if Yuka’s okay.”

Yuka was okay, more or less. She sat pale and trembling on the curb outside the bar, a bright orange blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Shattered glass covered the asphalt nearby, and the scene swarmed with paranormals in uniforms that, at first glance, looked like they belonged to the NYPD.

The officer standing at the edge of the black-and-yellow police tape was not a human cop. Major Raven Ardelean had sparkling red eyes and long white fangs that flashed when she smiled.

“Oh, hey, Val!” she called while cradling an automatic rifle with casual grace. “Did you catch the guy?”

“No,” Val growled. “Lost him at an intersection, but I have his plate.”

“It’s a start.” Raven grinned. “You get a look at the driver?”

Val shook her head. “He had tinted windows. I didn’t see anything. Is Yuka okay?”

“Seems that way. The medics are done with her.” Raven lifted the tape. “Come on.”

They approached the dwarf huddled on the curb. Blair sat beside her with an arm wrapped around her, rubbing her like he was trying to keep her warm. His eyes were red and glassy. Enzo hovered nearby, his big hands helpless by his sides.

“Hey, Yuka.” Val crouched near her. “You feeling okay?”

Yuka blinked, her eyes focusing, and touched the small pink scar at her hairline. “They patched me up. I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay, baby,” Blair croaked. “You could have been—” He didn’t finish the sentence.

“What happened?” Val asked. Raven stood behind her, listening.

“I don’t know.” Yuka shook her head, then winced. “I was sitting in the truck, answering texts while Enzo and Blair unloaded the delivery, and the next thing I knew, glass was everywhere, and my head hurt.”

“Someone threw a brick through the driver’s window,” Enzo growled. “They were aiming for Yuka’s head.”

“They hit Yuka’s head,” Blair whimpered, his tone anguished. His arm tightened around her.

“Hey, ma’am?” A weremule stepped out of the truck’s cab. “You need to see this.”

Raven strode to the truck, and Val followed. The weremule pointed a flashlight at the brick on the passenger side floor. Clear tape circled it, holding a sheet of white paper to the brick.

“It’s a message,” the weremule observed.

Raven extended a long white claw from her fingertip as smoothly as a cat would and turned the brick over. Silently, they read the bold, typed letters on the paper.

Stay out of this.

“Okay, that changes things.” Val gritted her teeth. “This wasn’t just an idiot throwing bricks at cars.”

“No.” Raven folded her arms. “This was personal. They targeted Blair and Yuka specifically.”

“Targeted?” Yuka whispered. She’d drifted after them, the blanket still around her shoulders. The color drained from Blair’s face.

“It says, ‘Stay out of this.’” Val turned to them. “Could this have something to do with your tires being slashed last week?”

Blair and Yuka exchanged a glance.

“Maybe it’s something to do with that dwarf who attacked Nadia Stewart for being a human and wearing dwarf-made jewelry,” Raven suggested. “I mean, he’s in custody, but he might have had accomplices. Maybe others are against you guys selling dwarf-made beer to humans.”

“I don’t think so.” Blair sighed, shoulders sagging. “Yuka, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Yuka murmured.

“It is my fault,” Blair insisted, his voice breaking. “I should have taken it much more seriously.”

Val raised her chin. “Taken what more seriously?”

Blair ran a hand over the enviable mass of red braids that covered his scalp. “Threats,” he admitted.

“They’re not exactly threats.” Yuka wiped tears and blood from her cheek. “Well, we didn’t think so until now.”

“What happened?” Val demanded.