Bzzzzzzzz.

“Aw, crap. Really?” Val opened her eyes and glared at the microwave. “If you die now, I’ll throw you through the window.”

Apparently mindful of the threat, the microwave went about its business, but the strange buzz still rose from it.

Val frowned, stomped to the rebellious appliance, and hit the top with a flat hand. “Stop it,” she ordered.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzz.

It sounded like she was nuking a swarm of hornets instead of penne rigate. She bent to peer through the glass, and the microwave stopped.

The buzzing didn’t.

Val’s head snapped up. The sound came from outside, she realized.

She drew her dagger, and Damascus steel gleamed as she moved quickly and quietly to the front door. Val glanced swiftly out the window. Nothing except a brief glitter.

The buzzing intensified.

Val thought about the houses surrounding hers—the couple with kids, the lonely old guy, and the abandoned house that always held a dozen squatters—and rage flooded her veins. Something blazed on her chest, and she pulled on the thick iron chain hanging around her neck with her free hand. It supported a heavy iron amulet in the shape of a rampant bear with ruby eyes, and the eyes glowed as the amulet pulsed.

Danger was near. A paranormal threat hung over Bay Ridge, and this was Val’s neighborhood. She would protect it to the death.

Val braced her shoulders, dropped the amulet back into her shirt, and clenched her free hand into a fist. Then she stormed the door, kicked it open, and stood on the threshold, ready to fight.

The buzzes of thousands of tiny wings filled the night. When she saw the cloud of glittering creatures, Val’s heart flipped. This mass of six-inch humanoids was far more dangerous than a werewolf or a vampire.

“Faeries!” she cried. Her voice caught their attention. A tiny voice yelled from the middle of the group, high-pitched and barely audible above the buzzing, and the faerie cloud descended on Val.

The dwarf whirled and sprinted into the house, but the faeries pursued her, and their buzzing filled the dining room. Val dashed down the steps to the basement, where the warm glow of her forge rose from the doorway. She slammed and barred the door, then dove for cover behind an ottoman.

The deafening buzzing filled her home as faeries tore through the space. Hundreds of them crashed into the ceiling fan and sent it spinning wildly, bounced on the dining room chairs, and gnawed the table’s edge. A dozen tore into the ottoman, ripping chunks of stuffing from it with their sharp teeth.

“Hey!” Val yelled, then ducked for cover as two sent blasts of faerie dust flying at her. The dust hit the wall opposite, and the paint sizzled and turned gray.

Glass shattered as three faeries, brawling with each other, slammed into a painting on the wall. The frame clattered to the ground and broke. Others ran their claws over the newly installed hardwood floor. Still more swung on the curtains, which Val had bought last week, and ripped them. Then they swooped around the dining room, tearing the fabric into shreds that fell like confetti on the chaos party.

The microwave beeped forlornly from the kitchen, and the faerie cloud left the dining room as one.

“Stop!” Val barked, scrambling to her feet. She pulled out her phone and searched for Bianca Hartshorn, a captain in the Official Para-Military Agency, but dropped it when she saw the kitchen.

Faeries swarmed the countertops and the kitchen table. Two attempted to light a third on fire on the stove. Others stuffed a roll of aluminum foil into the hapless microwave and turned its power up.

Val sprinted to save the microwave as sparks filled the air. A faerie with her hair on fire zoomed past Val in drunken loop-the-loops. She swatted several away from the microwave and unplugged it, but it was like pissing in a hurricane.

A dozen more flung open the cabinet doors and yanked the contents all over the floor. Others hurled items out of the fridge. Milk exploded on the tiles as Val lunged to close the door, trapping several squeaking faeries inside. She regretted her decision when faerie dust melted holes in the fridge, and angry faeries zoomed out.

“Uh, sorry.” Val raised her hands.

A flying frozen pizza smacked one faerie in the head, knocking him onto the table, unconscious. Val’s freezer was open, and a dozen faeries pelted the others with frozen food.

Out of the corner of her eye, Val spotted pointed gray teeth bared over an electric cable.

She whirled around. “Stop!” she yelled at the faerie gnawing on her toaster’s cable. “You’ll short out the⁠—”

Sparks flew, and the faerie squealed with enjoyment as electricity coursed through her body. Then the room went black.

Val groaned. The amulet’s red glow reflected from the sad remnants of her fridge’s door, and the luminescent faerie dust occasionally puffed out as her attackers/visitors flitted around the kitchen.

The high-pitched voice called again in a language Val didn’t understand. It was shrill and piercing, but the other faeries ignored it.

A soft silver glow shrouded Val as a faerie floated to her eye level with gentle flutters of her pale wasp-like wings. The faerie wore a dress woven from slender leaves, grass, and the purple petals of deadly nightshade. Her pale skin shimmered, and Barbie-blonde hair hung to her shoulders.

Val grinned. “Sinatria!”

The faerie groaned and covered her face with hands too small to wrap around Val’s fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

China shattered in the dark.

“I’ll lure them into the spare room,” Val suggested. “Then we can talk.”

“Sorry,” Sinatria repeated.

Val opened the fridge, swatted faeries aside, and pulled out a steak she’d bought the night before. She ripped open the packaging—what was a little blood on the floor compared to the current chaos?—and waved the raw steak in the air.

“Blood!” she called. “Delicious blood!”

The room fell silent, then the buzzing of wings intensified.

“Run!” Sinatria yelled.

Val bolted. The faeries swarmed after her, their buzzing punctuated by the chomping of their teeth. Val charged up the stairs, reached the spare room, yanked open the door, and flung the steak inside.

She flattened herself against the wall as the faeries streamed past her. Only when the last pair of wings buzzed past her face did she slam the door behind them.

“Will that hold them?” she asked.

Sinatria hovered by the door. “Probably. I hope you didn’t have any valuables in there.”

A ripping crash echoed from within the room.

“Eh, nothing that I can’t replace.” Val shrugged. “I kept them out of the smithy. That’s all that matters.”

“Merlin’s toenails! Val, I’m so sorry.” Sinatria ran her fingers through her hair. “This isn’t what I planned. I tried to stop them, but being third in line to the throne doesn’t hold much sway with this lot.”

“It’s cool. I dropped my phone before I called the OPMA, lucky for you.” Val plodded to the kitchen. Eggshells crunched under her stockinged feet as she unplugged the toaster. She then went to the fuse box and flipped the switch.

Light returned to a scene of madness. A groaning but unconscious faerie lay on the kitchen table. Milk, eggs, meat, and frozen food were everywhere, and the stove was still on. Val hastily turned it off, retrieved a fire extinguisher from the wall, and gave the sad, burning remnants of the microwave a few good blasts. Blobs of pasta were congealing amid the charred remains.