Val sighed. She stretched out her arms, a luxurious, unhurried movement, then slipped into a crouch.
“Okay,” she told him, “but when this is over, remember that you asked for it.”
Yuka retrieved a soda from the cart and popped the lid. “Kick his ass, Val,” she called.
Blair snorted. “As if there can be any other outcome.”
Gold Earring snarled, then lunged at Val with a series of wild swings. Val stepped back, dodging the first two. She caught the third, her hand closing around his puny wrist. His eyes widened in horror, and with a squeal, he rammed his knee into her groin.
Val chuckled. “Fighting dirty, huh?”
She still had control of his arm, and she twisted it with a swift, casual movement. He doubled over, squealing as muscles and ligaments tightened. Val kept twisting until she felt something creak in his shoulder.
“Tap out,” she ordered.
“This isn’t MMA!” Gold Earring squealed. “I’m not submitting!”
Val shrugged. “Okay.”
A month in the hospital. Liam’s words reminded her that this was more than a dick-measuring contest. This was about her charges’ safety.
She twisted a bit farther, and something snapped. Gold Earring’s high-pitched scream tore across the parking lot. She released him, and he staggered away, clutching his shoulder.
“She hurt me!” he wailed. “She hurt me!”
“Like I said.” Val spread her hands. “You asked for it.”
“Get her!” Gold Earring moaned.
The three other guys started forward. Yuka sighed, delicately placed her beer can on the curb, and charged with Blair by her side.
Val knocked the first guy out with a single punch and whirled to help her fellow dwarves. Blair had the second guy on the ground, grappling to get an arm around the human’s neck. The guy clung to Blair’s forearm, trying to draw his arm away, but he fought in vain against dwarven strength. Blair’s arm closed around his carotid arteries, and the kid went limp.
Yuka circled her opponent, fists to her chin. Val stepped forward.
“No!” Yuka spat. “He’s mine.”
The human was unarmed, and Yuka’s eyes flared with green fire. Val decided it was wiser not to interfere.
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.
