“Do you really think they’ll mind? We saved their lives. Remember?” Tetra bit into a hot dog. “What is this stuff?”

“Meat,” Val offered.

Tetra eyed it. “I doubt it. So, we’re staying here tonight?”

“You’re stuck here with me,” Val confirmed.

She stomped into the living room and flopped onto the ruined couch, which moaned in protest. Keeping her eyes on the backyard, Val dialed Frode’s number and raised the phone to her ear.

“Little spark!” Frode boomed. “Is everything okay? It’s late there, isn’t it?”

Val smiled. “You’ve been keeping an eye on the app.”

“Thaumatic fluctuations make it tricky, but I like to know what my little girl is up to,” Frode told her. “Are you okay, darling?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Val reassured him. “I had a skirmish at a client’s house, but we’re all okay.”

“Of course you are.” Frode guffawed. “You always are!”

Val glanced at Tetra, who had eaten all the hot dogs and started on the plastic. “I had...some help.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, that’s why I’m calling. I brought my clients home and found that their enemies had broken into their house. They were lying in wait for them.”

“Merlin’s beard,” Frode muttered. “It’s Blair and Yuka, isn’t it? The dwarves? They must have been terrified.”

“Luckily, Genevieve got them out of here before they saw much.” Val sighed. “Still, it was far too close. They’re not safe in their home anymore.”

“Genevieve!” Frode crowed. “She’s a hero!”

“Dad? Focus. We need added security at their house. Please,” Val added.

“Of course, little spark. Send me pictures and measurements. What are you thinking?” Frode asked.

Val thought about it. “The guys I fought were human, but they were well-trained. Dwarf-forged iron will keep them out, but I bet they can pick locks.”

“Iron bars for the windows,” Frode suggested. “Iron grille doors, too, with warded locks. It doesn’t matter how good they are. They won’t be better than an unpickable charm.”

“Exactly. That sounds great.” Val paused. “I know you’re busy. When do you think you could have them done?”

“Tonight,” Frode answered instantly.

“Dad,” Val protested. “You have other contracts.”

“Nothing is more important than helping my little girl,” Frode told her firmly. “We’re going to keep those dwarves safe, darling.”

Val’s shoulders loosened. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Love you, little spark.”

“Love you.” Val hung up.

Tetra flopped onto the couch beside her, noisily sucking a juice box’s straw. “Who was that?”

“My dad.” Val tucked her phone away. “You should sleep.” She nodded at the other couch.

Tetra shrugged. “I can sleep tomorrow. Two pairs of eyes are better than one, right?”

Val gave her a sideways glance. “Right.”

Tetra pulled the straw from the juice box. “I thought you were talking to your boyfriend.” She ate it.

“Boyfriend?” Val raised her eyebrows.

“You know. The guy who took you on the date the other night.” Tetra held a hand above her head. “Tall, with dimples?”

“Oh, Booker? That’s not going to be a thing. He’s a great guy, but we don’t have any chemistry.” Val frowned. Why am I telling her this?

“Still. It didn’t sound like your dad.” Tetra eyed the juice box, then ate that, too. “The whole ‘love you’ thing,” she added around a mouthful of cardboard.

Val sighed and pulled out her phone to order fries from the convenience store down the block. “What do you mean? Everyone says that to their parents.”

Tetra scoffed.

“Sorry.” Val lowered the phone. “I know yours are...”

“Dead. Thank Merlin,” Tetra muttered.

Val stared at her.

“You’d be glad too if you had my parents,” Tetra snapped defensively. “I need another juice box.”

“Please stop eating non-food objects. I’m ordering you fries.” Val waved her phone.

“Fine.” Tetra folded her arms like she wanted to hug herself. “Judge me, then. As long as you feed me, it’s fine.”

“I wasn’t judging you!” Val protested.

Tetra glared at her.

“Okay, maybe a little,” Val conceded. “I can’t imagine being happy about losing my parents.”

“Yeah, well, you have a dad who gives a shit, by the sound of it,” Tetra snapped. “Not everyone is as lucky.” Her voice cracked on the last syllable, and she looked away.

Val tilted her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Everyone thinks Sinatria is so cool and great,” Tetra growled, “but she’s soft. She didn’t grow up the way I did. She didn’t have to fight her siblings for every meal. She wasn’t pitted against her older brothers in a battle for every bite of a kill. She wasn’t desperate enough to hunt alone as a little kid because she was starving.” Her tone softened. “The faerie queen doesn’t have to hunt if she doesn’t want to. Every meal is guaranteed.”

Val was silent.

“So, are those fries coming or what?” Tetra snapped.