DREA

Drea was still in a foul mood later that day. When she'd attended the support group, she found the girls both multiplying and solemn. New faces, of all classes, from freshman to senior were in attendance. Mimi had spread the word that Drea would be there taking a list of names of those interested in learning to defend themselves.

Several girls were comforting one another as three more spoke out about an attack in the past few days. Mimi didn't come forth about her own, which prompted Drea to study the quiet ones, concluding that there were more victims. She left the meeting with too much heat in her to contain, and needed to expend some of it before setting out to conduct her own investigation.

The only good news she'd had was her dads, 'wish granted' text. He came through. And whatever Uncle Leo's test was she'd ace it. But she was still going out tonight, if to do nothing more than make sure no one else was attacked. She stepped into the dojo, aware that Jem was hot on her heels and not so much there for practice.

"Drea! Hey, wait up!" He called after her.

Ignoring him, she made her way to their family's private studio, scowling as she spied Scout already in it working with her kamas. Did she have to learn every weapon? Was nothing sacred?

She kept walking, taking the second available studio, smaller but it would be enough for her to blow off her excess frustrations. She began warming up. Kama, sai and a bo weren't Drea's only weapons either. In fact- She eyed the set of sticks on the wall. Those were coming with tonight. No sense going unarmed. Not with so many girls getting jumped. And she sure as hell wasn't going to lose.

"Drea!" Jem yelled. Standing over her, he dropped his backpack and weapons bag beside her with a thud. "Seriously, why is everyone avoiding me today?"

Drea's eyes flickered up to him then back to her toes as she stretched. "I've got stuff on my mind."

"Like, whatever is going on with you and Mimi and half the girls in the damn school?" Jem sat down beside her, beginning his warm up.

"Yeah and I'm not talking about it." She stood up, reached for the sticks. "But, I do need a sparring partner. You up for it?"

His blue eyes shot to the sticks. "Really?"

One eyebrow popped up as Drea tossed him a set. "You need the practice."

Jem scoffed. "Do I?"

"Yep. On your feet." She rolled the sticks over her hands, eager.

"If I win you have to tell me what's going on," Jem said, getting to his feet.

"Deal." Drea suppressed her smirk, bowed to him and struck his right stick before he'd finished his own bow in.

"Hey!" he protested.

Drea laughed. Yes. She totally needed this.

Soon the two were blocking each other more than either were scoring a point. Jem tapped her thigh then shoulder and Drea's blood roared. One more point and he won. Shifting her weight, she moved her sticks faster, a quick held back strike to his knuckles then a crossover and down, she trapped his weapons with her own, spun into him, hooking her leg behind his she shifted her body weight, tossing him to his shell.

"I win!" she, proclaimed, shoving her weapons in her backpack then smoothing out her yoga pants. "And," she checked the time. "I have somewhere to be."

"You suck!" Jem groaned from the floor.

Laughing she tugged a hoodie from her backpack, pulling it up over her loose French braid. Breaking into a jog, she bypassed Leo in the hall, grabbed her shoes from a cubby by the door and burst into the parking lot as she tugged them on.

JEM

Jem eyed the empty space on the wall. Drea never took her weapons with her. Like ever. Unless her dad was on her to clean them. But these were her sticks. He eyed the pair he'd used. Clean. Something about the entire day wasn't setting right with him. With everything going on lately he wasn't taking any chances dismissing gut feelings. She could hate him later. He fished his phone out of his bag, pecking out a text to his Uncle Raph.

Uh. I don't know anything. But uh. Drea just left the dojo with her sticks. And I got a bad feeling. Don't know anything, I swear. I just- don't want anyone getting hurt. No more chances. So. Yeah.

He read the text, thought it sounded stupid, thought about deleting it. Thought about rewording it. Thought about making it shorter. Then he gave up and just hit send. Good luck to Uncle Raph and good luck to Drea, and good luck to him if she found out he ratted on her. But after two sisters in rehab and everyone avoiding him he wasn't taking any chances.

DREA

In two short blocks Drea made her way onto the subway platform. Mimi had said the mall parking garage. Which limited her search area, a little. The parking garage was multiple levels though. She pulled out her phone as she stepped onto her train.

Hey Mimi. Do you remember what level of the parking garage you were on?

Minutes passed, Drea pulled a pair of ear buds from her backpack and set a playlist to listen to as she contemplated what exactly it was she was looking for. She'd know it when she saw it, maybe even feel it. She may not be an empath like her mother, or a medium with visions like her brother, but some things she just knew. Felt it in a way there wasn't words for. As she reached her stop her phone buzzed.

Third floor, near the stairs. Why?

Drea didn't reply, instead jogged the one block to the mall parking garage, stealthing by the gate. She opted for the stairs, enjoying the light workout. As she stepped out of the stairwell she surveyed the area, scanning for security cameras. One camera dangled from its perch, two had empty holders. Stolen. Last, she found one that looked as if it had been painted over with spray paint. That's when she understood this to be what it was. A trap. There were a lot of giant support columns, a somewhat steep incline, but not a lot of cars on this level. She checked the time. Seven.

She texted Mimi again.

What time were you leaving the mall?

This time the answer came quicker.

Nine. Why? What does this have to do with the class?

Drea didn't answer her again, circling back to the stairwell. She was too early. She leaned against the wall, her eyes roving from left to right, top to bottom, then she noticed it. Shards of plastic. A taillight.

Texting Mimi again she asked: Did you do any damage to the vehicle when you were fighting back?

Mimi fired back super-fast. I kicked out a taillight. Drea, where are you?

Drea sat on the ground, eyeing the shards. Mimi said it was a black van. With the name Marvs- no Marcos on the side. Drea's lips curled into a coy smile. "Now we're talking." She pulled out her phone, typed in Marcos and did a search. Her nose wrinkled as images from a 'gentlemens' club appeared. "Ew." She checked the address, her lip curling. Damn. It was nearly out of bounds of her mother's built-in radar. She'd be pushing it. But. Duty called.

On her feet, Drea sprinted down the steps to the subway, hopping the next train out. She'd nearly dozed off after the thirty-minute ride across town. Snapping to attention, she stepped off the train onto the streets of New York. Frowning, she made her way passed multiple shady businesses. Not in the best part of town, she ignored a handful of prostitutes, someone peddling something that might be what Scout had been hooked on, and a couple guys that eyed her like they might like to become an unsavory employer.

"Hey, Princess, what're you doin' in this neighborhood?" One of them snickered. She felt his eyes on her ass. But kept walking. She checked her phone again, the sun was setting, seven-thirty. Her mom had already sent a text.

Where are you?

She checked the directions to the club then dropped her phone back in her backpack. She'd deal with her mom later. When she came up with a decent answer… whatever that might be. She walked on a few blocks before coming up on a neon sign with the 'o' burned out, reading Marc_'s. Despite its sleazy façade there was a line of men out front, a bouncer letting them in one by one. He appeared to be scanning licenses and taking a cover charge. She circled around to the back, locating five company vans in a row. She walked along behind them, scanning the tail lights. No. No. No.

Then she sensed the shift in the air, the way hostility radiated off some people it reached out like an electric shock. Unzipping her bag, she reached in, wrapping her fingers around her sticks.

"Hey! Hey, you! What're you doin' snoopin' around out here?"

As a rough hand came down on her shoulder Drea dropped her bag, holding onto her weapons as she lifted one up, jabbing it over her shoulder to hit whoever was touching her, in the face.

"Oh shit! Did you see what he did to Ronnie? Get him!"

Drea spun around, facing her attackers, counting them off. Five, plus the guy writhing around on the ground. She tipped her head to the side. He was groping his eye. No. He wasn't getting up. So, five.

They were moving in on her as a group. "Knox, dude, that is one pretty guy."

"If that ass is any clue, don't think she is a guy." Another guy, tipped his head to the side, circling around behind Drea as he tried to look at her butt. "What you got, Honey? You lost?"

Drea dropped her chin. Watching him in her periphery, she took a stance, readying her weapons. He moved in first, coming up fast behind her while another ran up on her front. She struck out with her weapons, one, two, three, connecting with three sides of her front attacker's head, before executing a spinning back kick into the chest of the dude coming up behind her.

The two remaining guys stood side-by-side. "Get Billy," the larger of the two commanded.

The smaller one ran into the back of the building. Seconds later returning with an enormous bull-looking guy. He stomped up, with the little guy tailing him. The bull snorted. "This her?"

"Yep," said the taller one.

"Well, how do ya want her? A little broken, a lot, done, or the other?" Billy's voice was gruff, his eyes appraising. Drea searched the back of her mind, to the Pandora's box of skills she knew but had never used. This guy was big and if he got a lick in she might very well be laid out.

"The other. Take her to the club. She took out four of my guys. I could use some fresh blood." He spun around, pointing to the little guy. "Bring the car around. We're headed to the fights."

Drea took a step back as the bull mutant snorted so loud she felt a rumble in her chest. Oh shit. Her foot slid back, her weapons up. He lowered his head, his great horns aimed for her chest as he barreled toward her. Using her sticks, she attempted to block his natural weapons. Successful in one attempt but not another, he hooked his horns under her arm pits, spearing them into the side of a van. Pinned, with his great head in her chest, she reached up, striking at various points on his chest and torso. Apparently pressure points on a bull weren't the same as most mammals. Little guy appeared at her side, jabbed her in the arm with a needle and Drea's world spun.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh…