A month had passed since Stella had seen Barbie so dejected. When they met up again for coffee, the peahen was relieved. She didn't even pay attention to the shop being mostly empty.

"So, how was your brother?" asked Stella.

Barbie Wire slumped in her seat. "I got f**-ing cold feet."

Stella blinked twice. "Oh."

Barbie covered her eyes for a second. "When I got to that office building, he wasn't there. My—I guess she's my—niece told me he went on a helicopter ride to meet a client."

"Oh, right." Stella stirred her drink with a tiny spoon. "Loona is technically your niece. Wait, a helicopter? I didn't know Hell had those."

"So, I left and couldn't find the balls to return." Barbie crossed her arms. "Does this place serve Expresso? I need to get caffeinated as s**t."

Glass from the front window crashed inside. A cape of an offensive stereotype flapped to reveal an imp decked out in Old West attire. He whipped out a pair of pistols and fired them. One of the bullets tore through Walter's wrist, which dropped the butler's deadly wires. The other bullet made a headshot on Gunter. This caused the familiar to retreat into Stella's shadow.

The intruder fired each of his guns once more. Instinctively, Stella shifted into her true form to dodge the shot. Barbie ducked and kicked the table over for cover. The peahen demon flew toward the door. However, a glowing white lasso ensnared her, forcing her to trip back into her default shape.

'Friend of yours?' Stella idly thought.

'I don't have friends,' retorted Striker's mind. 'I have stalkers and I don't keep track of them all.'

That was the last thing she heard before a boot kicked her in the head.

…

Stella regained consciousness in a blurry location that hurt to look at. She struggled, unable to move her arms. Her legs could kind of move, but all they felt was air.

"Dammit, not again," she groaned.

"Sounds like somebody is awake." Boots stepped down from a burning horse. "Morning, Princess."

Stella squinted in disbelief. "Who… are you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The imp tipped his hat. "I'm Striker."

Stella deadpanned. "No, you're not. One, he's dead. Two, you're doing the voice all wrong."

"My death was mildly exaggerated." His tail whipped the ground. "And are you seriously judging my voice right now, you scratchy-throated royal?" He threw his hat up onto a giant statue's pointy… horn.

"I'm just going to call you Faker," Stella decided.

Faker didn't appreciate his new name. He pulled out a dagger with a luminescent pattern along its edge. He proceeded to walk over to his hostage and stab her in the side. Stella yelped out as an unbearable pain seared through her flesh and blood.

"You need to learn to keep your mouth shut," said Faker.

He slashed through some hanging ropes. Stella tumbled down onto the old mine cart tracks. Faker shuffled through Stella's pockets. He pulled out her cell phone and slammed it against her face to unlock it. He then proceeded to tap a few spots and held it up.

The other side answered slowly and deeply. "Who is this and why do you have this phone?"

"Nice to speak with you too, Your Highness." Faker smirked. "I'm the best assassin in Wrath. The name's Striker and-"

"No, you're not." Stolas's voice loosened up. "He's already dead and you're doing the voice all wrong."

Stella fought to contain her laughter.

Faker cleared his throat. "And I have your wife tied up in blessed rope. Now, you're going to listen to my demands and follow-through exactly the way I tell you."

"And what's stopping me from doing this?" asked Stolas. A starry circle appeared in the cavern, but it quickly distorted and vanished. "Wait, what?"

"Really cute, Prince." Faker regained his confidence. "But I've taken the liberty of coating my hideout with blessed dust. It won't let you or your wife do anything."

"Oh, s**t," said Stolas.

Stella tried to shift forms, but the coating of shadows quickly faded away. "Oh, s**t. I'm actually in danger."

…

Blitzo was swerving wildly in his van when his phone rang obnoxiously loudly. "Stolas, this really isn't a good time!"

"I'm sorry to keep calling at bad times," apologized Stolas's voice, "but we have a sitch. You see, my wife has been stolen by someone claiming to be Striker."

"Striker?!" Millie and Moxxie exclaimed from the backseat.

"Didn't your wife kill him?" asked Blitzo into the phone.

"Real or fake, Stella is in need of a rescue," said Stolas. "Would it be possible for you to find her?"

"Why are you asking me?" Blitzo moved his hand to honk the horn before returning it to the ten o'clock position. "Can't you just use your powers?"

"Unfortunately, the kidnapper covered their lair with blessed dust," answered Stolas. "My powers don't work against that stuff."

Blitzo sighed. "Really sorry, Stolas. But I can't today. I've got to take Loona in for her Hellbies S-H-O-T."

Loona stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Yeah, it took me five years to book this appointment. She's been doing a lot of field work and she could really use it."

Stolas chuckled nervously. "Ha ha, well. I agree that is important, but-"

"Blitz, let me and Moxxie handle this!" Millie interjected.

"Are you two sure you can handle this alone?" Blitzo turned to look at them. He may have intentionally rammed against the cars in the surrounding lanes.

"We can do it, sir." Moxxie smiled as Millie slipped a snazzy hat onto his head. "Together, we are a deadly fighting machine. Besides, we both owe the real Striker some payback. Taking out his imposter is the next best thing."

"Splendid!" Stolas said with delight. "I'll be right over."

"Wait, what?" Blitzo inadvertently crushed his phone when a portal opened in the backseat of his van. "I thought you said your powers didn't work."

"You don't typically cover your vehicle with blessed dust," stated Stolas, curled up just enough to fit.

Blitzo groaned as he pulled up to the hospital. "Alright, M&M. If that Faker is anything like Striker, he's probably holed up somewhere in Wrath. Head there and see what you can find." He pulled Loona out while Moxxie and Millie took driver's seat and shotgun.

…

'This guy has been through one too many plastic surgeries.' Striker mentally spat.

'How do you know what that is?' wondered Stella.

'What?' Striker thought. 'We get adult magazines too.' He silently groaned. 'Not the point. He went through a lot of trouble to make himself look like me.'

Meanwhile, Faker was busy using a stone to sharpen his dagger.

'Do you know where we are?' Stella asked while eyeing as much of the cavern as she could.

'Looks like he stole my lair,' answered Striker. 'He could afford fake body parts but couldn't get his own mancave. F**ing priorities, varmint.'

'Oh, right.' Stella rolled her eyes. 'Because buying a giant statue of yourself is such a high priority.'

Striker paused for a moment. 'Shut up.'

…

While Millie was gathering information from a tiny mariachi, Moxxie was busy paying for gas and starting the pump. He also stabbed and strangled a random biker gang that were upset at him for some reason.

Inside the van, Stolas blinked at the spectacle. "I don't understand that big-boned imp's problem. It wasn't even the same hat."

Millie hopped into the car. "Come on, Moxx! We got to go!"

Moxxie shrugged as he drove. The gas station exploded as they pulled away.

…

Faker looked at the time on Stella's phone, crushed it in his hands, and tossed the remains at a boulder. "Well, it's about time for me to collect my ransom. Your use to me is up." He stabbed her in the leg. "Shame you'll never get to see your kid again."

Stella wanted to scream in agony, but her newfound anger overcame that. "Don't fucking talk about my daughter."

"Oh, what's this?" Faker smirked. "Did I finally hit a nerve?"

"If you get anywhere near her, I will cause you so much agony." Stella practically hissed. "You'll beg for death."

"Big talk, fat princess." Faker pulled the dagger out and jammed it into Stella's breast. "But it's just talk. Any last words?"

Struggling to breathe, Stella croaked out, "Stolas… will…"

"That cheating husband of yours can't get here." Faker lifted the dagger with both hands. "Nobody can save you now."

An approaching car horn produced La Cucaracha. The I.M.P. van crashed through some high cart tracks and rolled down. The side door opened, revealing Moxxie with a sniper rifle. Faker dodged backwards just as a bullet zipped under his chin. Millie somersaulted out and clashed her broadsword against the blessed dagger. With the cowboy occupied, Stolas ran around on foot to Stella's side.

"We had a deal, Prince!" Faker shouted before turning his attention back to pushing against Millie.

"I don't accept ultimatums from wannabe hoodlums!" Stolas replied before pulling at the knots in the blessed rope.

Faker managed to push Millie back while grabbing her sword with his tail. He tossed it like a javelin. Moxxie leaned over right as the broadsword flew into the rifle and jammed it. He pulled out a pistol while Millie switched over to a black katana. The three imps zipped around each other in a two-on-one fight.

"You made it," whispered Stella.

Stolas nodded. "I won't let some dust stop me from helping you."

While Faker was shooting at his opponents, a stray holy bullet zipped through Stolas's shoulder. The prince cried out as his bloody wound produced steam.

"No!" Stella shouted.

"Never mind that." Stolas shook his head and leaned down, still clearly in pain. "It wasn't a vital organ." His arm was slower to respond, so he started using his beak to pull the ropes apart.

In all the commotion, Millie managed to chop Faker's pistols with her battle-axe. But Faker spin kicked Moxxie's gun out of grasp. Faker then proceeded to whip his normal lasso around some big rocks to slam the power couple into the walls. He whipped his tail around the unwielded battle-axe and spun it toward them. Its upper curves narrowly missed Millie's neck.

Moxxie turned over and slowly reached out for his pistol. Faker jumped on top of him and started strangling him. He chuckled at how easy this was.

Moxxie whispered, "Harder."

Faker recoiled in horror. In that moment, Moxxie tripped him with his own legs. He then swung him around by grabbing his long tail.

"Fake cowboy piece of s**t!"

At this point, Millie had chopped her axe into a giant rock. Faker looked up to see the giant statue of Striker falling directly for him. He yelped out as the rocks displaced a huge cloud of dust. Seconds passed by in what felt like hours. When the dust cleared, there wasn't a trace of the culprit except a pinned bandana.

"F**k," muttered Moxxie.

Although she was now free from the blessed rope, Stella gasped and struggled to breathe. Stolas gripped his bleeding shoulder and looked on with worry. The imps ran over.

"Oh, crumbs!" exclaimed Moxxie. "We need to get to a hospital!"

…

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

Stella lay there on the hospital bed. The heart monitor faded into white noise in her mind. Her leg was strapped up in a cast and gauze covered most of her mid-section. She didn't really have the energy to do anything.

Outside the room, Stolas sat while staring at the ceiling. When a little extra red passed in his peripheral, he looked level at a face he hadn't expected.

"Blitz?" he said.

"Don't get the wrong idea." Blitzo closed his eyes and held up his arms. "I'm only here to tell you not to f**king pop into my car so suddenly ever again! Feathers take forever to clean up."

The rest of his tirade sizzled as soon as he actually looked at Stolas. The owl had his arm slung up in a cast.

"Wait, why are you bandaged up?" Blitzo asked. "I thought Stella was the one who got bagged and gagged."

Stolas winced as his shoulder reflexively moved. "I was preoccupied with untying her. I didn't notice the holy bullet until it had hit my shoulder."

Blitzo's eyes widened. "You can get hurt?"

…

'So, Faker stole all of your stuff.' Stella held her head. 'Does that include the weapons?'

'Every single one of them,' confirmed Striker.

'How did you get all of that?' she wondered.

He chuckled. 'The late marquis wasn't short on cash to pay for my job.'

'No, that's not what I mean.' Stella frowned. 'Where did you find so much angelic tech just lying around?'

Striker scoffed. 'You don't often look at the sinners' section of Pride Ring. Do you?'