She burst through the door to find Genevieve straddling the entrance to the loading bay. A swarm of motorcycles filled the street, large, heavy bikes with engines that snarled with throaty force. Their six riders wore pistols on their hips and no helmets.
“Hey, lady!” The ringleader grinned, showing off a gold tooth. “Move your car!”
Val folded her arms with casual grace and raised her chin. “The Anvil Brewery is closed to the public. If you want a tour, you’ll have to make an appointment.”
Gold Tooth nodded at the others, who turned off their bikes. Some dismounted and strutted away from their bikes in jeans and wife-beaters, flashing cheap tattoos. They fell in line behind Gold Tooth as he approached Val.
“We need to talk to your little friends,” he purred on a cloud of smoky breath.
“Yeah? Sorry to hear that. Piss off,” Val suggested.
“Now, that’s no way to talk to prospective customers.” The guy behind him was juiced to the eyeballs. Eyeball; one was missing, the eyelids sewn shut.
“You want to taste our beer, boys, you can do that at the Iron Fist,” Val told them. “I’m not giving you another warning. This is private property. You’ve got two options: tell me about your bosses and leave, or refuse to leave so I can beat you up. Then you can tell me about your bosses.”
“You think anyone’s the boss of me, bitch?” Gold Tooth raised his hands.
Val raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you’re the guy who ordered a hit on my friends?” She pulled out her phone. “Good to know. A bunch of cops would love to meet you.”
Gold Tooth scoffed. “I’m not saying that.”
“I know. You’re too stupid to be in charge,” Val informed him coolly.
Gold Tooth’s eyes narrowed.
The loading bay door opened with a slow creak. “Everything okay out here, Val?” Blair called.
“Everything’s peachy, Blair. Go back inside, please,” Val ordered.
The Copper Dwarf ignored her and yelled to the new arrivals, “Who are you?”
“Somebody who’s here to deliver a peaceful message.” Gold Tooth stepped to the side to look around Val.
“Uh-uh.” Val held out a hand. “Not another step.”
“What is it?” Blair yelled.
“Blair, get back inside,” Val barked.
Gold Tooth ignored her. “You’ve had your friendly warning, Mr. Abercrombie.”
“Ambushing him at his home was a friendly warning?” Val raised her eyebrows.
“No one’s been hurt yet,” Gold Tooth yelled. “We can keep it that way. You only have to do one little thing.”
“What’s that?” Blair demanded.
Gold Tooth grinned, metal flashing in his smile. “Close down your operation. Or move it out of New York. I don’t care. Stay out of my client’s business. That’s all.”
“Your client.” Val stepped forward. “Would that be BrewCorp’s Anthony Warner?”
“Never heard of him,” Gold Tooth lied smoothly.
The door creaked again. Val risked a glance over her shoulder and cursed inwardly. Yuka, Hamish, and the other dwarves stood in the doorway. Each carried a tool—a heavy ladle, a wrench, or a hammer. Yuka held a length of copper pipe and wore a belligerent expression. Genevieve revved her engine.
“I think you’d better leave.” Val squared her shoulders. “This is your last warning.”
A laugh rippled through the bikers. “Or what?” Gold Tooth sneered. “You’re going to make us?”
Val dropped her hands to her sides. “I could if you want me to.”
Gold Tooth laughed. “You hear that, boys? She wants to fight us.”
“Let’s fight!” one guy jeered.
“Blair—” Val snapped.
The blast of a bike’s exhaust drowned out her words. Gold Tooth and the others parted, and a bike charged Val on its rear wheel, its rider grinning maniacally.
The dwarves joined her at the gate, and the scarlet fog descended as Val’s amulet thudded against her chest. She braced her feet wide apart and held out her hands. The rider’s grin froze as Val caught the bike by its handlebars, the front wheel spinning inches from her chest.
“Oh, shit,” the guy whimpered.
Val picked up the bike and threw it. Bike and rider sailed over the heads of the other attackers, who tilted their chins back as one to watch them fly. The guy had the presence of mind to kick the bike away from him. Metal and flesh hit the asphalt with separate devastating crunches.
The dwarves cheered.
“Anybody else?” Val roared.
