Dragon Face blanched. "But — you said you wanted a mutant turtle," he said, confused.

"Yes, but this is not the one I want. He's too old."

"Too old? He ain't more than a kid."

Sarkis made a dismissive gesture. "He is nearing manhood, if such a term can be used for such a creature. I am searching for one who would still be a child years hence."

Unable to move, Don could only look at the sorcerer in confusion. He and his brothers were the only mutant turtles in the world, as far as he knew. This sorcerer seemed to know of their existence, but not anything about them — and he was searching for something that, as far as Don was aware, didn't exist. At least, it hadn't for many years, since he and his brothers were small.

Sarkis slowly turned around, his icy eyes piercing through each of the Dragons in turn. "Are any of the other three younger than the one you have here?" he asked ominously.

"N-no, sir," one of the Dragons babbled. "They're all the same age, or at least look it."

Sarkis' long thin brows knit together, and his voice became even colder. "Then I do not need them."

The declaration seemed to echo through the room like a thunderclap, and was greeted with silence. Racer's eyes widened until his pupils became like pinpricks, and he took a shaking breath — though Don wasn't sure if he was outraged by this sudden dismissal, or delighted by the news that Sarkis didn't need him. If Sarkis wasn't planning to take him, then that meant he would find himself at Racer's mercy once again. And this time, he knew, it would not end just with rape.

Dragon Face's reaction was far less ambiguous — his pallid face flushed so deeply that his dragon tattoo seemed to fade into his skin. "Are you sayin' you're not paying us?" he said in a deadly whisper.

"You will be paid for the one you have captured," Sarkis said dismissively, folding his thin arms, the amulets tinkling gently against one another. "Though I care not what you do with him. Kill him, toss him into the street — it shall be as you wish. As for the other three, your services will no longer be required."

"You think you can hire us to catch all four and just skip out on payin' for three of 'em?" Dragon Face hissed.

Sarkis' pebble-like eyes slowly turned towards the Dragon. "Had you not failed to capture all four, you would have been paid accordingly. Our deal is over. Now."

Out of the corner of his eye, Don could see April squirming in some Dragon's hold, until she finally managed to wrench herself free. A few seconds later, he felt her arms slipping around him from behind, her delicate hands brushing his chest. The hands gripping his arms released him suddenly, and he fell limply against April, wincing as his shell thudded against the front of her slender body. He was heavier than she was, and he didn't want to hurt her by falling on her, even if it was only from his knees.

But she seemed to have been prepared for it, bracing herself as she settled him back against her chest. His head was resting against one of her shoulders, and for one brief moment her face was turned towards his, her green eyes wide with concern and tendrils of damp red hair clinging to her pale cheeks. He could smell the sweat that still clung to her body — both her sweet sharp scent and his own, entwined together.

But then a strange, sickened expression crossed April's face, and she quickly looked away from him, though her arms were still tightly wrapped around his chest. His heart constricted at the look in her eyes, but there was nothing he could say — nothing he could do — to erase what had happened. Their coupling had taken place less than half an hour before, but clearly it had hurt April so deeply that she couldn't even bear to look at him.

He closed his eyes, and tried desperately to raise his hand to touch hers. But all he could do was sag against her, his face brushing her throat. Her fingers tightened against his plastron, pulling him closer to her. He wanted to wrap himself in her presence, to lose himself in her arms, to shut out the world around them.

But Sarkis' cold voice pierced through the warmth that surrounded him. "I have no further need of your services. If you wish, you may be my servants should I have some function for you to fulfill in the future. But for now, you are no use to me."

Dragon Face snarled, his face twisting as he took a step towards the sorcerer. Behind him, the Dragons raised fists and primitive weapons in support of their current leader. They were idiots, Don thought hazily, watching as they grouped roughly to attack. Sarkis was clearly out of their league if he could form gateways and summon shadow monsters, but they thought they had a chance at using brute force against them.

The two shadowy figures suddenly grew taller and thicker, gaining mass and billowing coils of misty shadow across the floor. Their faceless heads loomed over the Dragons, and they suddenly made sounds — a blurry, wild noise like the sound of wind blowing over rooftops during a storm. The air grew colder, and frost began to bloom across the steel bars of the cell, the knives and chains of the Dragons. Some of them dropped their weapons in alarm.

Don felt April's arms tighten around him, and he buried his face in the side of her throat. He wanted to sleep even more desperately before — to just give up the struggle and find oblivion wrapped in her arms, her warmth.

"In your place, I would not be so unwise as to attack one guarded by shadow demons," Sarkis said ominously. "They could rend you asunder in a heartbeat." He lowered his head slightly. "Payment for this one Turtle will arrive shortly. If you find news of another — a child — then you will know how to contact me. But do not try my patience, Dragon Face. It will not end well for you."

The blue energy swirling in the wall flared brightly, stretching over the stained cinder blocks until the wall was dominated by it. With a flick of his flowing robe, Sarkis strode into the gateway, fading into a darkened shape as the crackling gateway began to slowly recede, until it was nothing but a flicker of blue light on the grey surface.

And the shadow demons seemed to melt away, dropping back to the floor and slowly dissolving like patches of smoke. The Dragons watched in consternation as they vanished completely, leaving only a pervasive chill as a sign that they had ever been there in the first place.

Dragon Face muttered curses under his breath, and swung to stare at the other Dragons, eyes glittering with malice. "He isn't going to get away with this," he said in a cold, deadly voice. "Not after the risks we took. I don't care what tricks he can do."

A murmur of agreement ran through the room, but most of the Dragons looked too unnerved to react. An undercurrent of fear rippled through the eyes of some of the men there, and Donatello wasn't sure if it was fear of Sarkis or fear of the repercussions of their actions.

"What we doing with the freak and the woman?" Racer asked.

"Whatever you want. I don't care," Dragon Face snarled.

Racer's eyes flew to April and Don, and Don tried not to shudder at the glee he could see in the man's grin. Before he had had to make sure he didn't kill Don, but that restriction had been lifted now. Now he could unleash whatever sadistic desires he wanted on the Turtle. And by the way Racer was fondling his knife, Don had the feeling he was already dreaming something up.

And April… April was still trapped here as well, surrounded by the Purple Dragons. Every one of Don's fears for her safety rushed back into his mind like a flash flood. It had only been a half hour since Racer had tortured her by forcing her to mate with a mutant turtle, but Don had no doubt that the Dragon would want to rape her himself before too long. And given his past threats, Don had no doubt that he would be forced to watch every second of it, helpless to stop it, too drugged to move.

He pressed his face against April's throat, and felt her turn her head so that her lips brushed his forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hating his own weakness.

"I know," she said in a faint, choked voice.

He felt her stiffen suddenly, and her hands tightened on him. For a moment, he steeled himself for the sound of Racer's voice taunting him, for the feel of hands ripping the two of them apart.

But instead he heard the sound of concrete being smashed, the screams of Purple Dragons outside the cell, and a very loud horn blaring.