“C’mon, Val!” Enzo yelled.

“Yeah, show us that belt!” Isabella roared.

Val laughed. “Okay, fine, but go easy.”

Archibald and Buck scooped her onto their shoulders as if she weighed nothing (which was not the case). Henry handed her the belt, and she held it up, grinning.

“That’s right, bitches!” she yelled.

The crowd went ballistic. Archibald and Buck paraded her around the bar several times, then deposited her on a stool by the counter. Enzo slid a quart of Iron IPA into her hand.

Henry squeezed onto the stool beside hers. “Hey, you’re sure you don’t have a head injury, right? Because alcohol⁠—”

“The medic cleared me, Henry. Shut up,” Val told him amiably. He had no way of knowing that her skull contained large chunks of iron and was almost impenetrable.

She raised the excellent beer to her lips and downed the glass. The patrons cheered again when she slammed the empty glass down. “Another!”

Tetra took the glass, and a cold wind blew through Val’s glow. The faerie gave her a long stare, black eyes baleful, and stormed to the dishwasher.

“Brrr.” Henry shivered. “That was cold. Is everything okay between you two?”

Val shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Talking helps.” Liam sat on the stool opposite Henry.

“Not right now, okay?” Val growled.

Liam gestured placatingly. “Okay.”

“Jess says congrats,” Isabella announced, leaning over the bar with her phone in her hand. “She’s sorry she couldn’t get off work tonight. I sent her the videos. She also says you’re insane.”

Val laughed. “Thanks, Bella.”

“Are you okay with doing your bodyguarding stuff tomorrow?” Henry asked as Val shifted in her seat with a groan.

“Oh, I’m fine. Little sore. Nothing new,” Val reassured him.

Tetra slammed a second quart of IPA on the bar, spilling it. She wiped up the mess with a harsh sweep of her cloth and marched away.

“Ouch,” Liam muttered.

“Ignore her,” Val told him loudly. “She’s being unprofessional.”

Tetra flipped her off.

“Valerie,” Enzo chided quietly. “I don’t want to ruin your night, but you two need to iron things out.”

“I’m not sure they can be ironed out,” Val muttered.

“That’s a problem for tomorrow,” Henry announced. “Tonight, we celebrate!”

Enzo just grinned as “We are the Champions” started anew. The drunken patrons sang along, and on the third chorus, Val gave up trying to be humble and joined in. She held her beer over her head in one hand and her belt in the other. Henry had to grab her shirt to keep her from tipping over.

“Good thing you fight better than you sing,” someone joked behind her.

Val turned. Diego Lopez stood a few feet away, arms folded. An awkward silence spread through the bar like ripples in a pond. The song continued to play loudly.

Val cleared her throat. “Diego!” She grinned. “Have a beer, dude. On the house!”

Diego’s stubbled face split into a wide grin. Liam scrambled off his barstool and offered it to the MMA fighter, wide-eyed and trembling like he was in the presence of royalty.

“One of our best for my new friend, barkeep,” Val boomed.

Tetra shuffled over with an Iron IPA and a lousy attitude. Diego didn’t seem to notice. He sipped cautiously, then spluttered.

“Packs almost as much punch as you do, Miss Stonehold,” he muttered.

“It’s Val.” She held out a hand.

Diego shook it. His grip was callused and firm but didn’t hurt.

“I hope you didn’t come here for a rematch,” Val told him.

Diego laughed. “Absolutely not. You knocked the stuffing out of me, Val.”

“Same to you.” Val chuckled. “I’m all out of fight for today.”

“Where did you learn to fight?” Diego asked, dark eyes intent over his glass’ rim.

Val scratched her chin. “Sparring with friends where I come from. We all learn to fight as kids in, uh, the old country.”

Diego tilted his head. “Scotland, judging by the accent.”

Val nodded. It fit her cover story.

“Fascinating. Your technique is better than any unaffiliated fighter I’ve ever faced.” Diego sipped beer. “Usually, unaffiliated kids are not worth my time.”

Val shrugged. “I get that.”

Diego lowered his glass. “Listen, Val. The beer’s great, but I didn’t come here to drink. Shit, I’m almost too sore to walk. All I want is a hot shower and my bed.” He chuckled. “My days of going out boozing after a fight are long over.”

Val grinned. “I’d say you fight like a guy half your age, sir, but that’d be an insult.”

“Don’t call me ‘sir.’” Diego snorted. “I’m forty-five, not seventy. Anyway, I came here for a reason.”

“Oh?” Val sipped her drink. “What’s that?”

“I run an MMA gym in Brownsville.” Diego leaned back, studying her. “I train a few fighters, both amateur and pro, but I’m not scouting for new talent. But when I saw that you aren’t affiliated? Well, I couldn’t leave that alone.”