MARCO

Marco stepped gingerly around his office, each movement sending shooting pains up his arms and into his shoulders. Once he figured out who those psycho-bitches were, he'd find a way to get them. Even now, the humiliation burned him. How dare they. Once he got his hands on them, he'd load them so full of Sensuality they wouldn't know which way was up. And, after he'd fucked each of them six ways from Sunday, he'd sell them out to anyone who wanted a taste until there was nothing left.

But it would need to keep until he got his house in order. No way was he going to be intimidated into not opening. He'd smacked up those that could be roused, had the rest trundle off to be patched up and contacted anyone available to fill in. No one was shutting him down.

He still couldn't figure out how she'd made him talk. They hadn't roughed him up that badly. At least he didn't think so. It was all kind of fuzzy. He wasn't sure what the hell had happened.

Given what he'd spilled, or thought he'd spilled, he should probably warn Tripp. But that would involve admitting his loose tongue. The Syndicate wouldn't like that. Better to disavow all knowledge and leave Tripp in the wind. It could all come down on his head.

His phone rang. Caller ID showed Spot. "Today has been fucked all to shit, so if you're calling to tell me that there's a problem with our supply of Sensuality, I'll..."

"Easy boss. The pills are fine." Spot interrupted.

Marco took a breath to calm down. "Then what is it?"

"Good news. I'm bringing Cherry in. We can fill the order." Spot explained.

Marco let out a sigh of relief. Bout time something went right. "With what she's worth, we're both in for bonuses this month. Good work. When will we have her?"

Spot chuckled. "I'm bringing her in tonight."

APRIL

April laid in the back seat, holding a tissue to her bleeding nose and massaging her aching forehead. Sappho sat quietly in the passenger seat while Karai drove them to check out their newest lead.

Whatever was going on had been pretty well compartmentalized. They'd been taking a leaf out of the terrorist cell handbook for information management, so Marco had come up dry on the fights. Normally he waited to be contacted about them, but lately he'd been under some police scrutiny and had been temporarily cut from the loop.

They had gotten his dealer, though he favored a different drug than Essence, something called Sensuality, it seemed to all flow from the same source. Worth having a word with the guy. Except, the way her head felt right now, they might have to interrogate in a more classic fashion.

Her phone rang and she flinched from the sharp sound. She checked the screen. Leo. "Hey. Finished up at Marco's. We're on our way to check out a fresh lead."

"April." Leo's voice held a note of tension that always spelled trouble. "Whatever it is needs to keep. Scout's been abducted. We need you at Mikey and Denim's place as soon as you can."

A flood of terrible memories bubbled to the surface. No. Not again.

"On it."

She ended to call and rolled her head towards the front of the car. "Change of plans. We have to get to Denim's like yesterday."

ALLI

Alli was savoring the tiny corner of Antonello's brownie. While she'd promised to eat one, she hadn't said how big it would be. Still, the tiny morsel was absolutely mouthwatering, and it had Anton near glowing to watch her eat it. Of course, she never indulged in sweets. Ever. Except- her heart warmed- it seemed life was currently so good that she was.

Her phone rang and she glanced down at it as Devon and Yuuta made small talk, him squeaking some replies while signing. His sweet chatter had Alli struggling not to smile. His vocal communications were usually limited purely to those closest to him, an indication he was quickly growing comfortable with Devon. She wondered if he realized what he was doing.

Her phone continued to ring and Anton tapped the table. "Hey, you gonna get that or do you have a chocolate buzz?"

She rolled her eyes as she swiped the screen, putting her mother on speaker. "Hey, Mom, what's up?"

"Alli, something's happened to Scout. Someone took her. I need to leave the restaurant, but Woody has the flu and Gina's out of town. Can you cover for me?"

Silence consumed Alli's small kitchen like her cell phone was a black hole, all eyes fixed on the illuminated device. "What?" Alli's eyes flickered to Anton then Yuuta then back to the phone. "Mom, Anton and Yuuta are here with me. Do you need us to meet up with you? Can we help? Do you know who took her or why?"

"Not really. From what your dad says it looks bad. Really bad. It may have something to do with a place called Marco's and it might be related to her history using. And yes, Anton and Yuuta can head over to our place, that'd be great. But I really need you to cover the restaurant."

Sidelined. She was always sidelined. No one thought of her as a kunoichi anymore. She was just the weak one with anorexia. Well they were wrong. "What? Mom, I'm just as capable as Anton and Yuuta and it just so happens I know a thing or two about Marco's." Her mouth snapped shut as she realized what she'd just said.

Anton, Yuuta and Devon were still glued to the conversation, albeit Devon looked a mix of uncomfortable being privy to the conversation yet concerned, most likely because she cared about Scout too. And Alli had just admitted the only secret she had left.

Antonello's brow furrowed. "Wait, Marco's, isn't that one of those-" his voice trailed off as his eyes grew wide. While Yuuta began squeaking something about Spot being an asshole or something of the sort beside him.

Then her mother's voice rose above all the noise.

"Excuse me!" Denim boomed. "Quiet down, boys!"

The room went silent, Anton and Yuuta both looking back and forth between the phone and Alli.

"Allison Kyle Sanders Hamato, what did you just say and what exactly did you mean by it?"

Alli cringed at use of all four of her names. Why had she lost her cool? If she'd kept her mouth shut- No. If she'd kept her mouth shut then she wouldn't be able to tell what she knew of Marco's. Shameful as it was. Oh! She could- "Spot. Mom, Spot talked me into it. It's a long story and I only did it the one time. More importantly, I can get in. I can get in and get information. I might be able to find Scout."

"Absolutely not." Denim snapped. "First of all, I happen to know April, Karai and Sappho have Marco's covered. Second, how did my beautiful, smart, strong and independent daughter let someone manipulate her in such a horrible way?"

Her mother didn't give her a chance to answer before rolling into her next demands, and in truth Alli didn't want to respond, because it had everything to do with Anton and her most recent anorexia relapse. Anton still felt bad enough already. This wouldn't help.

"Third, you and I will discuss this again and in depth when this is all over. Fourth, I need you here at the restaurant because it has to keep running in order for us to have a home. And I'm currently out of alternative resources. So please, Allison. Get. Here."

Her cheeks flaming under Anton and Yuuta's heavy gaze, Alli conceded. "Fine. I'm on my way."

She hung up, avoiding eye contact with anyone. "Yuuta, would you mind walking Devon home before you and Antonello meet up with the rest of our fam-"

"What did you do exactly, at that place?" Anton interrupted.

Alli looked away. "Not now, please, Anton."

His jaw was working in her periphery. She could almost hear his teeth grinding together. "Fine." He pushed back his chair, stomping over to her. "But this talk ain't over with me either." He kissed the top of her head, something he did when he was mad but wanted her to know he still loved her. Her eyes closed as her heart gripped. Would she ever rise above her pain? Ever?

Yuuta squeaked his affirmation of intent to see Devon home then meet up with Anton at her parent's apartment.

"Sorry, about all of this." Alli mumbled to Devon, while pulling on her shoes. "My family has a lot of drama. And often."

"I've met your sister, remember?" Devon put a hand on Alli's shoulder. "Go help your parents. And call me if there's anything I can do."

Alli nodded, grabbed her phone, keys and purse, then ducked out the door, stepping into a sprint toward the pizzeria. She didn't live far, three blocks. But halfway there her phone buzzed indicating a text. What if it was one of her parents? What if they found Scout? She slowed to a stop, fished the device out of her bag and swiped the screen.

A picture of Scout, locked in a dog crate, furious and scowling stared back at her. Who sent this? She looked at the sender. Spot! Oh. Hell. No.

Switching screens as she redirected her footsteps toward Marcos, Alli dialed him. "Where is she you son-of-a-bitch?"

Spot chuckled and her stomach turned. "Now, now. Why don't you make your way down here to Marco's and we can discuss your uh- kid sister. I might be able to help you get her back, if you do something for me in return."

Alli's teeth ground together. "You bastard."

"Are you coming, Alli?" Spot crooned. "Or should I look the other way when they ship her out?"

Ship her out? Oh gods. This was bigger than she knew. She should call her parents. No. They'd just send her to the restaurant. But she could do this. Besides if she called them they'd want her to tell them everything first and there wasn't time. Not if whoever had her was going to move her. "No! No. I'm coming. I'm- I'm on my way."

NIK

Nik tapped his cane in front of him as he walked, intentionally failing to avoid obstacles, moving and stationary, as though he couldn't detect them. He was putting way more effort into it than usual and it was damn inconvenient.

Thus far, the first four blocks had been a bust. As he stepped out onto the fifth block, he was starting to lose faith in the plan, which seemed to depend far too much on blind luck.

Then he saw him.

No one that would help Scout. Real life wasn't generally that accommodating.

In the middle of the block, stood a street performer in front of a portable keyboard on a stand. He radiated desperation in sharp, piercing flashes and Nik felt a little sorry for him and his donation cup, mostly filled with air.

It wasn't like their insane plan was going anywhere. He could spend a moment to help this guy and then return to epically failing to find Scout.

He tapped his way over to the guy, trying not flinch at the jarring notes that shot at him like shuriken, driving everyone else to the other side of the street. Really? Had this guy found his keyboard in the trash and hoped he'd magically be able to play, earning whatever cash he badly needed?

"Hey, Kid, play you a song for a donation?" The man's voice was gruff.

Desperate as he was, Nik could see his unwillingness, containing him like a cage. No attempt would be made to mug the helpless, blind boy for his cash. Instead he was still relying on the disaster that was his musical talent. That clinched it.

"No, but I'd pay to play a little."

The man let out a sigh of relief and stepped back. "Be my guest."

Nik held out a five, all he had on him, not having anticipated needing any money for this mission, waiting for the man to accept it. Then, making a show of locating it with his cane, he stepped up to the keyboard. Running his fingers over the keys, he familiarized himself with their position, not even needing to look. He'd rather watch the music waft and spiral up and out anyway.

On impulse, he played one of their new, as yet unpublished, tunes, losing himself in it for at least the duration of play. It helped take the edge off his anxiety over Scout, steadying him to continue the search.

As the last notes twirled off into the distance, he returned to himself, noticing the crowd as their applause littered the air around him. The man's cup was overflowing now.

"Thanks, kid." The man's gratitude was warm and radiant, like the sun.

"Thanks for letting me play." Nik picked up his cane, leaning against the keyboard stand, and began tapping his way onward.

Passing the alley nearest to the next corner, a voice called out. "Hey kid, over here."

He turned towards it, seeing a figure, oozing corruption and malice like a viscous waterfall. Seriously? Was this guy really hiding in an alley, coaxing passersby like a drug-dealing cliché?

"I heard you play and stopped. Have a minute to talk?"

Ok, maybe that made a little more sense. Time to play the fool. He tapped his way towards the voice. "About what?"

"I know a music club that would love to debut a talent like yours."

Bummer. Just some hack, would-be agent looking to take advantage. "No thanks."

He turned to leave, but the voice called out again. "It's worth more than money. What would you do to see?"

That sounded like Essence. He turned back, the dealer now shimmering with a veneer of greed as though covered in an oil slick.

"How?" He feigned innocence as he asked.

The man took his hand and placed a pair of capsules into it. "This can give you sight."

He couldn't appear too eager. This man was webbed with lacey threads of suspicion. "That's idiotic. Pills can't fix blindness. You're not getting my money."

As he started to push the pills back, the man caught his hand. "No trick and no fee. A free sample to prove their worth. You'll see everything."

As if he already couldn't.

His hesitation was real as he contemplated what the drugs might do to him, recalling watching the painful metamorphosis of Scout's self during her slog back to sobriety, the need still burrowed inside of her like a dormant beast always waiting to awake.

But he'd rather go through that and get her back, than lose her forever.

And so, he popped the pills in his mouth and dry-swallowed them.

Moments passed and... nothing. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he thought it would be something.

The man was still there. "Amazing, isn't?"

Whatever. He needed to play along. Taking off his glasses, he looked around, pretending to see everything for the first time. "Whoa."

The man chuckled, dripping with avarice-tinged victory. "I know. Why don't you come back to the club with me? Play a little for the crowd. Earn some cash. And I'll sell you more. At a discount even."

The club. Was that where they had Scout? Why would Scout be at a musical venue?

"Yes, please." He put in a little begging, the same tone he used when trying to wheedle out of doing his homework. It was far more effective on this guy than it had ever been on his parents.

"Right this way." The guy gestured to a van parked on the street outside the far end of the alley.

Don't worry, Scout. We're coming.