The human roared and lunged, swinging haymakers at Yuka. She dodged two but missed the guy’s wild kick, which scythed into her calves and knocked her to her knees.

Val started forward. The guy raised a fist and punched straight down toward Yuka’s head. She seized his wrist, drove it toward the ground, and flipped onto her back. Her legs wrapped around his arm and shoulder and slammed him into the asphalt. His squeal of shock ended in a scream as Yuka raised her hips and hugged his wrist to her neck, twisting his shoulder brutally upward.

“Submit!” she thundered.

“Do it!” Gold Earring whimpered, cradling his broken arm.

The guy slammed the ground frantically, and Yuka released him. He scrambled to his feet.

“Run!” Gold Earring yelped. “Those people are crazy!”

The guys sprinted to the safety of their car and piled inside. One was still struggling to shut the door when it sped away, weaving.

Yuka rose and slapped her hands clean. “That was satisfying.”

“Guys, I’m so sorry.” Val ran a hand through her afro. “That should never have happened.”

“Are you kidding?” Blair laughed as he slung an arm around Yuka’s shoulder. “That was the most fun I’ve had since this trouble began.”

“Right?” Yuka agreed. “We haven’t had the time or energy for a good sparring session. This was even better.”

Val grinned. “Hopefully, word will get around that I’m not playing when I’m on duty.”

“It was good to let off steam.” Yuka retrieved the cart, and they proceeded toward Genevieve. “We might not be able to beat Anthony Warner’s ass, but this gave our frustration an outlet.”

“We will beat Anthony Warner’s ass.” Val’s jaw clenched. “One way or another.”

Val left Blair and Yuka at their home, which now resembled the Ironforge Bastion, thanks to the bars on the doors and windows, and trundled toward the nearest McDonald’s. She pulled into a long but swift-moving drive-thru line and eyed the menu.

Genevieve idled impatiently, snarling at the minivan in front of her as the dad in the driver’s seat struggled to get his order straight. Val pulled out her phone and texted Tetra.

Home soon. Picking up dinner.

She dropped the phone on her lap as the minivan edged forward, wondering if the dog had destroyed the kitchen. He couldn’t be more destructive than an army of faeries, could he? She hoped not. She was probably out of favors with poor Liam.

Her order was handed through the window, and she dropped the hot, promising bag on the passenger seat. Before she could drive off, her phone hummed.

She read the text from Tetra, then read it again.

The queen is here.

“The queen?” Val hissed.

The car behind her honked. Her foot slipped on the clutch, and Genevieve lurched forward. Instead of stalling, she emitted a throaty roar and smacked Val on the arm with the gear shift.

“Sorry, sorry!” Val squeaked. “The queen is at my house!”

Genevieve flashed her lights and let out a long, blaring honk. Her gas pedal disappeared under Val’s foot.

“Nonononono—” Val yelped.

The Mustang roared forward. Val grabbed the wheel, and it spun so hard that her wrists hurt. She let go and kept her hands and feet out of the way as Genevieve screeched through the quiet streets of Bed-Stuy, overtaking despite solid lines, roaring across red lights, and narrowly missing hapless cyclists. Val squeezed her eyes shut. Sirens yowled behind them a few times but rapidly faded into the distance.

She didn’t dare look again until Genevieve screeched to a halt. Carefully, Val peeled one eye open.

Genevieve honked three times.

“Okay, okay.” Val fumbled for her keys. “I’m opening it.”

The garage door rose. It was still several feet from the top when Genevieve thundered into the garage. The driver’s door slammed open, and it was Val’s turn for the Mustang to dump her unceremoniously on the floor.

“Genevieve!” the queen sang.

She stood at Val’s back door, arms extended toward the Mustang. Genevieve rolled up to her, suspension squeaking, windshield wipers waving, headlights flashing.

“I’ve missed you, you badass bitch.” The queen rubbed the roof fondly as Genevieve’s front bumper butted her legs.

Val picked herself up and dusted herself off. The fae queen wore a V-neck shirt and jeans, and her glimmering wings lit the garage with a silver glow.

King Taylor emerged from the back door, wearing a baby carrier. The toddler within extended chubby hands to Genevieve. “Nennie!” she crowed. Tiny eddies of wind swirled around her hands and ruffled her dark hair.

“Hello, Val,” King Taylor called. “It’s nice to see you.”

Val cleared her throat. “Um, hello, sir.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re here, too.” Julie laughed. “Sorry to drop by unannounced. We happened to be in the area and thought we’d swing by.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Val rubbed the back of her neck. “Uh, welcome home, I guess.”

“I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s beautiful. I can tell you really care about it.” Julie beamed.

A human with a thick head of dark curls appeared in the doorway. “Valerieeeeeeee!” she sang, hustling across the floor to grab Val in a comfortable, squishy mom-hug.

“Hi,” Val squeaked.

“Honey, you look very peaky!” The queen mother, Rosa, stepped back and studied her. “Look at that skin of yours.”

“Mom!” Julie groaned. “Her skin’s fine.”

“Nonsense, baby girl. You can tell from a mile away that she’s iron-deficient! Stick out your tongue. Let me see,” Rosa demanded.

“Mooooom!” Julie moaned. “She’s an Iron Dwarf. She’s mostly made of iron.”

“You should eat more spinach, dear,” Rosa informed her.

“Uh...” Val managed.