ALLI

Alli's lip curled as she approached the bodyguard standing at the back entry of Marco's. A creepy coyote mutant smiled at her, revealing sharp canines. "You look like the redhead Spot said would be coming." He smacked his elongated lips, a string of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. "What's yer name, Sweetheart?"

"Well it's not Sweetheart, that's for sure." Alli's nose wrinkled. As she stepped closer, the scent of cheap cologne near choked her. "But, I am here to see Spot."

The bouncer opened the door. He reached down to cup Alli's butt cheek, squeezing it as he let out a low growl. "Mmmm, filet minion. I'd buy a taste of you."

Alli's teeth ground together. Her fingers dug into her purse straps as she commanded herself to keep walking. Fighting with this guy wouldn't help her get to Scout. Unfortunately, only playing Spot's game could do that.

As she stepped into the dressing room, she tried not to look at all the drugged strippers bustling about changing costumes, putting on make-up or refreshing their high. Alli was thankful for Anton and Yuuta getting her away from Spot. This could've been her.

Although, the way things were going, it seemed it still might still be.

She swallowed hard as Spot seemed to manifest by the stage entry, then glide toward her. Part of her wanted to end him right then. She knew at least fifty ways to do it in three moves or less. Her insides burned, muscles coiling. But she exhaled, commanding them to obey. She needed information. To see Scout and get her out. The time to end Spot and Marco would come. Rest assured that. Mess with a Hamato and guaranteed they would come for you.

"Allison, Dear," Spot crooned, stepping in so close his plastron pressed against her breasts. He lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing her hair back as he brought his lips to her ear. "I'm so glad you decided to join us. A trade is offered. You for little sister."

Alli swallowed bile. "I want to see her first, or no deal."

Shifting her weight, she attempted to step back. But Spot brought a hand around her bicep. Digging his fingers in, he yanked her to him. "The transport van has a few more pick-ups then it's off to your new home."

"No." Alli kept her voice low, proud of her deadly-firm undertone. "I want to see my sister first."

Spot chuckled. "Don't worry, she's on the pick-up list. Right this way."

DENIM

Chewing her fingernails down to nubs, Denim began gnawing on her lip in between rubbing her temples and pacing the prep line. What was taking Alli so long? They only lived a few blocks away!

She nearly ran into Pablo, who was carrying a pie fresh from the oven, that, thanks to her was about to meet the floor. With some impressive movements that reminded her of a street dancer, Pablo managed the save. Both of them exhaled a sigh of relief as he slid the pizza safely into the sell window.

"Uh, Senora Hamato," he said turning toward her. "I thought you were leaving."

Denim frowned. "Me too, Pablo." She glanced at the clock. Something wasn't right. She fished her cell phone out of her purse on her way to her office, dialing Alli's number.

Straight to voicemail.

Voicemail when she was supposed to be there. Denim glared at the phone, a nasty thought beginning to take shape. "Oh, no."

She dialed Anton who answered on the first ring. "Aunt Denim?"

Although she was pretty sure she knew what her daughter had done, she wanted to pretend for one more second that she hadn't. "Anton, is Alli still at home? Have any of you left yet? Is something wrong?"

"Nooo." Anton's voice took on a new shade of dark. "She's not there yet? We left forty-five minutes ago. I'm already at your place. Yuuta took her friend home and even he's already here. Did you call her?"

"Yes." Denim sighed. "Well, shit. Anton, put Mikey on."

"Why aren't you here yet?" Mikey snapped, then realizing himself, he softened his tone but still couldn't contain his worry. "I mean, are you on your way?"

"No. But I'm closing early and leaving now. We've got a new problem." Denim was already walking to the front of the pizzeria, locking the front door and turning off the OPEN sign as Mikey began asking a thousand questions. Not answering him right away Denim stopped Kami. "Close it up after these customers are done. I've got a family emergency to see to."

"Aren't you going out the front door?" Kami asked.

"No. I've got a stop to make on my way out."

Mikey was still jabbering, his tone picking up an uncharacteristic Leo-ness to it. Hmm. That was new for him, she mused. Slipping her key into the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet, she pulled out three handguns and two holsters. Geez, was he going to stop for breath? "Mikey!" She yelled over him. "Stop for a second!"

The other end of the phone went silent.

Placing her cell phone on the desk, Denim finished fastening her thigh holster, finally ready to answer him. "Meet me at Marco's. Alli's gone and tried to use herself for bait."

NIK/SCOUT

It hadn't been a very long drive to a marginally less seedy part of town. He'd been shuffled in the back, where it was deemed that his current choice of sensible clothing wouldn't cut it for the stage.

Since viewing the world in terms of energy didn't do much for his fashion sense, he played up the 'seeing the world for the first time' angle, until someone picked something out for him and shoved him into a dressing room.

When he came out, the man who brought him was speaking with some kind of manager.

"I'm telling you, this kid has it. You have to put him on with Seeker."

The manager flickered a cold, logical pragmatism as he considered. "Fine. Pull Keys and put him on."

Before he knew it, he was shoved out onto the stage, the energy of the audience blinding. Their cheers a deafening roar. He scrambled for their keyboard set up, wondering what they wanted him to play. Was he just supposed to improvise?

Then the other band members began to play. He recognized the song, a familiar, popular number. He followed suit, letting his hands and instincts do all the work as he looked around.

Everyone on stage was on something, or multiple things. It glowed within them, shimmering bright and leaving regions of decay as it pulsed.

When the vocals started, his attention was pulled from his fellow band members to the singer. His fingers almost tripped over themselves in shock as he caught sight of the familiar aura. She was singing. Amazingly well. As good as Jem.

"Scout?"

The lie was tempting. As Scout took the stage, the crowd lifted to a roar so loud her ear plugs barely dulled the recoil. Her heart soared. They even remembered her stage name.

Jive didn't help her keep her wits about her. The illusion of hearing met with the talent she wasn't meant to keep- or ever know in the first place. A cruel, cruel lie. She knew that.

Yet, the drugs coursing through her system numbed her worries, so that even her anger was a muted emotion that she couldn't seem to summon. All that mattered were beautiful sounds and the cheers of fans and newcomers alike, fueling her adrenaline rush- her purpose solely to entertain.

But that wasn't right. She'd given up Essence. She didn't want it, or Jive.

She hadn't sought it out.

Hadn't asked for this.

Her goals had changed, she was sure of it.

But the euphoria was... exhilarating, enticing, deliciously thrilling! She loved performing! She'd missed this! Still, even as the drugs assured her, something niggled at her. Something off...

As her second song ended the stage manager held up a finger cueing her to begin another. She turned for her band ready to tell them which song to play next- her cousins' new number. She knew it because she'd held her fingers to the speakers and felt the vibrations. She'd watched the video and read the lyrics. She knew she could sing it every bit as well as her gifted twin.

But, as she set eyes on the redhead behind the keyboard she almost tripped over her own feet.

No.

Her entire world came rushing back at sight of Nik. This wasn't who she was anymore. Wasn't what she wanted. No. They'd taken her from her true self, were keeping her from her goals. Her family. Her home. No. This was all wrong. Nik couldn't be here. It was one thing for them to steal her away and feed her with this filth, but not her family.

But that couldn't be right. She was worth more. So, no, taking her wasn't okay either. And Nik was confident enough about who he was to never take Essence. The way she should have been in the first place. The way she had worked so hard to be, until they stole her.

Her head was throbbing then, the pain in her ears reaching new shrill decibels. Nik shook his head as if he could see her. But there was no way. There was just no way he'd do this on his own.

Unless he wasn't alone. They'd come for her. It was difficult to concentrate for the pain teamed with the drugs demanding she perform. She needed to think.

Sing.

Came the voice inside her head.

Sing.

Came the chanting crowd.

Sing.

Beckoning the drummer, bassist and Nik over, she whispered Nik's own song title to them. As they nodded and turned for their instruments, she grabbed his shirt and whispered. "They're shipping me out in a literal dog crate after this song. Let them take me. There's a distribution center we have to find if we're going to put a stop to this. They have my weapons. If you can, get them and get out of here."

The stage manager, a gray and white rabbit mutant approached them. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Scout smiled. "I don't think he knew the song at first. It's still pretty new."

It physically hurt to turn her back on Nik. Having him near gave her focus, made her purpose and goals easier to remember. And somehow, even if they were both in a shit ton of trouble, his presence also made her feel safer. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled her confusion, and let the song take over.

Nik's mind reeled as she turned away to resume singing. She wanted him to let these creeps haul her off to somewhere else, probably somewhere worse? After what they'd done to save her?

But, she was serious. For a moment, the glittery haze of intoxication surrounding her like a noxious cloud parted. A glimmer of her true self, sharp and silvery like a blade unsheathed, cut through before being reabsorbed.

What should he do? He couldn't call in to consult without blowing his cover and the others didn't even know he'd found her.

Nellie would probably say to grab her and get the fuck out. This place was straight up wrong. The manic energy of the crowd and performers, strained and needy, wasn't enough to smother the undercurrent of misery, despair and self-loathing that saturated the space, thick and cloying. This was a bad place to be.

But she wouldn't go. Because others were suffering too. Others she wanted, needed, to save. She couldn't walk away and leave them. Could he?

Dammit. Nellie was gonna kill him.

As the song wound down, he reflected on how twisted it was to play something he'd put his heart into creating under these circumstances. Scout, chemically enslaved, was forced to sing the lyrics her brother had written. It was fucked up.

The song ended the set and they began to shuffle offstage, bowing amid the audience's adoration, to make room for the next act.

He reached into his mouth and pulled the metal amalgam from his tooth, wiping it off on his clothes.

As Scout passed him, he grabbed her hand, transferring it to her palm. He leaned his head to hers, loosening the blob of rubber muting the flow of sound in and around her ears. "Press it into your molar. We will find you."

Scout was flanked and escorted by body guards back to her crate. Feigning a cough, she slipped the device Nik had given her into her mouth, guiding it to her back tooth with her tongue. She'd slipped her finger in her mouth, pressing it into place when a guard yanked her by the arm and pointed to the damned crate. "Get in."

Scout's eyes flickered up to the badger mutant leering at her. Her blood rose to a simmer. It was degrading to get inside that box. But, she reminded herself, she was more than capable of busting out. Besides, she needed to know where this place they were taking her was.

What she hadn't counted on was the badger grabbing her arm tighter, like a lame restraint. Her head whipped toward him in confusion. At the same time the bulldog on her left grabbed her other arm, then she heard two clicks, felt a pair of sudden stings, both in her thigh.

Oh, no.

Her gaze dropped to the two darts sticking out of her leg. Then her body followed.