Arma took a running start and slid under the lumbering giant. Escott knew why. It wasn't often that she did a dirty move like this but each time she did, he had to close his eyes.

He told himself she didn't grab a man there and twist, but the cry and thud that followed meant she certainly did. And she was always sure to slide under anyone taller.

After the man fell, she kicked him in the head and throat.

Still cringing and fighting back the urge to close his own legs when she returned to their area, Escott tried to greet her.

Saying dirty move didn't begin to describe it.

"That's the fourth time you've done that. You know, you'd think they'd start wearing protective gear," Escott said.

She tossed something down at his feet. "He did. That's why I had to grab hold harder. I just softened it around the idiot."

Escott stifled a sound. He knew this was a death match as far as their opponents were concerned but still....

Arma looked up at the glass booth that had since taken on a black curtain. The worry creased in her face made him worry, too.

They were fifteen opponents in.

"Another one's come," Escott said, "is that even allowed?" She didn't answer and he tried to meet her gaze. "Arma?"

She was tired but refused to admit it. "We should keep going until Blackwell says stop." Despite her words, she didn't sound too sure. "We had an agreement. He left my lot alone and I'd fight." Her chest heaved as she struggled to rest. "Mouse can take a hit—I gifted her with the ability to. But Sash...he's just holding Sash to make sure I don't run again."

The way she said it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than him. Escott stood by her side and looked up at the curtain.

"I thought you'd lost your hand in a fight."

Arma shook her head. "No. I gave it as a guarantee I'd be back to compete."

She talked as if she could still reattach it. That sounded more like imp territory, but then it occurred to him. She was an Elemental—what imps were supposed to be. Heightened rejuvenation was their natural ability.

"You'd meant to come back for it."

"No," Arma admitted. "I hadn't." She touched her bare left shoulder. "I longed to, but.... I figured Blackwell'd found someone who could use it. It's still got power." She glanced at the next five opponents awaiting their fight. All around them the crowd grew, as did the bets—many betting against them. It was a profitable fight for now. "Maybe this is enough," Arma said, half pleading.

The grimace on her face was hard to bear. Escott said it, what she refused to, "But eleven kids came through."

Arma nodded, "And Sash." She swallowed hard and focused on the curtain again. "I don't fucking know that it'll ever be enough for Blackwell."

She looked herself over, but Escott wasn't having it.

"No. No more. No more chopping yourself up for parts."

Her eyes met his. "If it doesn't come from me, it comes from them, and that's not something I'm going to allow." Her breathing regulated by the time she gestured over at the fighters. "We'll keep going. We have to."

"Fine. I've got the next one."

But the next one to step into the cage made Escott freeze.

Arma asked, "What?"

"It's a woman," Escott said.

"So? Planning to propose out of spite again? You can collect us like trinkets."

He cut her a glance. "Bitterness like that will put undue strain on our marriage."

She gave him a slight grimace; he was sure it was meant to be a smile if only she wasn't so exhausted.

"It's a woman, though," Escott muttered. "I don't really fight girls."

Arma turned to him. "Oh f.... Are you joking?"

Sadly, Escott wasn't. But what was the alternative, ask the near-dead-from-fatigue wife to do it?

Escott flexed his back. "Um.... I guess I could try. Maybe I can just wear her down."

"Don't you dare. That'll take too long." Arma glanced back at the fighter and sighed. "Fine. I'll do it."

"No. I'll do it," Escott said. "It's just the fucking Baby Eyes talking."

Arma squinted at him. "What exactly is this 'Baby Eyes?' I've got a feeling I won't like it."

Escott wouldn't look at her head on as he shrugged. "It's what we call it when a Newbreed grows fast physically but maturity elsewhere takes time to catch up. Things that are potentially dangerous or deadly, they don't question playing with—misjudging jumping from a high building for example. But simple shit, really simple stuff," he corrected himself, "scars us or cripples us with fear. We're also prone to bouts of extreme anger. So we call it Baby Eyes. Things that should scare us simply don't."

"Hence you entering a cage match without a second thought. Yet, you're afraid of girls?"

Squinting, Escott warned her. "No. Mine's a physical catching up. Hence why I couldn't make Ice out."

"That's my fault, and that's intentional. She gives off an image that gets distorted. That's why I was trying to send her to that gate naked. Apparently, some imps can't see her."

Well that was a relief, it wasn't Escott's fault.

Then Arma said it. "Wait, is your marriage to me a form of...of Baby Eyes? You know, throwing a fit?"

Escott paused before turning to raise his hand to accept the challenge.

"What?"

"Come on. I admit, I was in a fix but when someone dumps you, this isn't really a logical course of action. No?"

Refusing to meet her gaze, Escott grumbled, "We're not having this discussion."

"But darling, couples should always talk about their feelings," Arma teased.

A bell rang and Escott looked up. He was unfamiliar with what it meant.

"What is that?"

Arma looked around. "I wouldn't know."

The ringing grew louder—it sounded like screaming until something slammed against the glass booth, shattering it. Flames shot into the air only to plummet.

That flame stood up and screamed.

"What in the...." Arma's breath hitched. "Sash. That's Sash."

She darted for the door but two more fighters, no doubt confused by the developments, stepped in.

Escott charged as well, forcing his body to grow. It wasn't real growth and it'd look intimidating for the few seconds he wanted it, but he prayed it worked.

Claws and teeth bared, Escott leapt in Arma's path.

"Shit, not another imp," one said and doubled back.

Body trembling, Escott forced himself to keep that image just a bit longer. Without it, they had no chance of getting out and Sasha's screams weren't letting up.

Arma kicked the woman in the stomach. "Move."

Clawed hands grabbed her.

Escott nearly passed them by, but then he saw the woman's face. She looked older close up. Yet her small sharp teeth put him in the mind of a Newbreed infant.

When she tried to bite Arma in the leg, Escott kicked her in the face.

She rolled over but landed on her hands and feet. That was his confirmation. There was no time to deal with her or get her to stop so Escott put his broader body in front of Arma and shoved everyone out.

He grabbed Arma and turned with her in his embrace before the woman could attack.

Escott let go and Arma rushed back and shut the cage door in time, locking the Newbreed in.

"What in the hell," Escott marveled. The strange Newbreed's clothes looked normal, too—normal enough. Yet she banged her head against the cage again and again, almost senselessly.

"Sash." Arma struggled, pushing her way through the crowd. "Sash."

Some people had already doused the body with water by the time they arrived. Arma turned her face away. Escott paused as well when he saw what became of Sasha. The kid moved, just a little, but it was enough.

"He's still alive." Escott hurried out of his shirt. He didn't have much fabric, but he ripped it at one side and used it to cover Sasha's face before scooping him up.

High up, Mr. Blackwell stepped in the path of the broken window and waved at them.

He threw something down, something charred.

Arma picked up her burned arm. Her eyes shimmered and for a split second, Escott feared she'd go after Blackwell. Instead, she put her arm to her shoulder, but she had no success.

Escott got into motion, rushing through the crowd of spectators who moved aside to give him room. When he glanced back and saw Arma's torn expression as she followed, he swallowed down some of his panic. She was following. She wasn't going on some stupid attack for revenge. That was good, because he had no idea what to do with the crying child in his arms.

Going up with Sasha wasn't an easy course of action. Escott had never heard someone cry like this. It wasn't loud or tortured, but it didn't have to be. He wanted to pick up speed but feared hurting him more with any sudden movement. He'd use the underground and find an emergency post.

"We shouldn't go that way," Arma said, alarmed.

Escott ignored her. He'd never traveled this area but in theory it should help them cut across a lot of the town.

"We can't go this way," Arma said again.

Like before, Escott picked up speed. It wasn't that he didn't want to listen to her, it was just that he didn't want to listen to any more of Sasha's crying. Even those sounds died down. At one point he feared the boy had stopped breathing so he slowed.

Nothing looked like this...it was flesh, rising up and down. Just flesh.

Something scurried by. Escott felt relief for a moment and then nothing at all. No Newbreed greeted him.

He saw Arma as tough but if he didn't know any better, he'd think she cowered behind him.

"Please. Take Sash alone if you have to but find him help. And don't bring him down here. Please."

Escott spun around to curse her out. The two ghoulish women lowering from the ceiling made him freeze.

Arma read his body language. She met his eyes. "One?" she mouthed.

"Two," Escott mouthed back. He finally realized she'd reattached her arm, though it didn't move.

Both women pounced. Arma stopped one with a punch to the chin. The other caught fire when she bit into Arma's arm.

At those screams, Escott started to run, consequences be damned.

"Not that way!" Arma wailed.

It didn't take long for Escott to find out why. He careened to a halt.

When he'd thought he'd never seen anything quite as horrific as Sasha's injuries, he was being fucking naïve.

"What in the hell...?" Escott gasped. Surrounded by small children, a woman...he thought it was a woman, lay flat on her back. Two of the babies fed from her bare body. Some bit into her flesh while the bigger two fed from her breasts. "Oh hell.... What is this?"

Arma swallowed hard. "Something I don't care to see again. Do yourself a favor, hero. Don't try to help her. Mouse found that out the hard way."

Escott thought to approach, but the babies, crawling like miniature imps, gathered. When they blinked in unison, he thought better of it.

"Fuck me...." Chest heaving, he struggled to think. "We'll travel the tunnels to HQ," Escott said.

"We can't."

"Why not?"

Arma shivered. "The enforcer. That Newbreed enforcer. He...they...something's below the HQ tunnels that I don't want to encounter again. He's who I expected to see down here."

Escott often ignored the red lines leading out of people, there were so many that spending time on them could consume his entire year. Something like that was Gwen's hobby. Now, though, Escott allowed himself to see them. Sure enough, all these creatures shared a line with that woman on the floor. Another line extended, gathering together in one direction. He turned to looked back at the women recovering from the fire. The lines met them but kept on.

"Children." Escott said. "They're his children. Amber Winrose wasn't his mother. She was his daughter. And your bomb killed her. That explains why you guys can't shake him." He focused on the naked woman again, her distant expression haunted him. "She's gotten venom...often." He tried to count the offspring. "Each time he mates with her he must bite her to keep her under."

Arma fought back a gag. "That's what you guys do?"

Escott shook his head. "No. But I've heard.... Sometimes if we mate, we can't control the amount, but afterward, our wives should grow a tolerance. It's like he just keeps biting her."

"Not only him," Arma muttered. "All of them." She shivered in disgust. "If we have to fight.... I cannot...will not burn babies. So let's turn back." Her eyes settled on Sasha and began to water. "Sash...."

They had to leave, now. Fast. If she fell apart on him midway, he couldn't carry them all out. Arma was tough, but she was standing before a boy she cared about and felt responsible for.

"This way." It headed to HQ. They could take their chances, the red lines led away from it.

Arma planted her feet. "No. No. I cannot."

Escott wasn't convinced but at a time like this, Arma wouldn't refuse without good reason. He spun around, looking for direction and said, "Then we'll go up top." He wasn't sure how he'd manage that, even walking around with Sasha was difficult.

One dark tunnel seemed poorly used. Escott took a chance. When Arma followed, he calmed. Some light shined down in the distance, accompanied by one of the sweetest sounds possible—his father's cussing.

"That fucking kid. I swear, when I find him. The ass whipping he's getting is a long time coming," the Chief shouted as he climbed down from the surface. "Getting fucking married. Married. Then not having the balls to stay. Now you go mucking about the Blackwell's estate. And this is not the time for this shit either."

"Dad..." Escott called up to him.

The Chief paused then continued his descend. "Oh, so now it's Dad now? Huh? It's Dad now? What the fuck you doing under the Blackwell's house? I knew I'd find you in the dumbest place possible." When he jumped down, he froze dead in his tracks.

Heart pounding out of his chest, Escott shivered. "What'do I do with him? I can't put him down. I...I can't even bite him to help the pain."

Without another word, the Chief scaled the ladder again, barking orders.

"Get a stretcher down here. And I need as many E's and medics as HQ can spare!"

Escott thought to alert his father to the woman in the tunnel, but he stayed focused on Arma and Sasha instead. He'd come back for her. If he was right, she'd been there for a while, and wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Luckily the journey to the medical building was a fast one. He lost sight of Sasha after they arrived, and medics pushed him aside and took hold of the gurney.

Standing outside the building, Escott looked up to the logo. Big Henry. The largest medical building in the entire Fan—designed and rebuilt by Lilah's father. High above it, toward the very top, long inactive apartments illuminated. Someone closed the window.

Escott nearly lost power. Arma wasn't better off. He'd never imagined seeing her crying. Someone like her didn't cry. And there they stood—two idiots out in the cold night doing absolutely nothing. The day was long gone.

Arma held his hand. It was no doubt more for her own comfort than his, but he needed it. They had a high volume of E's at HQ. Hopefully they were still there as the enforcers' building wasn't that far away.

"That bastard used my hand to burn him," Arma blubbered. "So they might not be able to fix him."

That's when Escott realized that she had her left hand, but it wasn't restored. Though she could move it, the fingers didn't seem to work, and the skin was badly burned.

"You need a medic," Escott insisted.

She stepped closer to him. He didn't think of much, he just held on. This wasn't the same woman who'd just bested eight fighters on her own. She looked small standing there despite her height. When she tried to break his hold, he tightened his grip.

"We should go in," Escott said. "He'll need us."

"You take care of it," Arma replied. She wiped her eyes and said, "I'm finding Blackwell."

Escott grabbed her arm so fast she winced. He was more than serious when he met her gaze.

"Blackwell's wife has an imp lover who's older than most imps here. He's an accomplished engineer and he's strong as fuck. He may spend his days shoveling shit in the sewage treatment area, but he's not to be fucked with. We cannot, cannot, cannot attack the Blackwells. Ever."

Arma's oncoming tears faded when she sucked in a deep breath. "I'm going after Blackwell."

"And I'm telling you, you're not. You're not going to commit suicide like this. What Karen Blackwell wants, is what Karen Blackwell gets and that's because of her imp. So no. We're going in there, and we're going to stand by Sasha because as scared as we are. And take it from me who's been on that deathbed, he's a thousand times more frightened."

Her next attempt at breaking his hold was equally unsuccessful.

"So what? They get away with whatever they want?"

Escott wanted to assure her. Words of hope came to him but sunk in the back of his throat along with the bile threatening to come up each time he blinked and imagined that charred body.

"We've got E's. They came from all over the city and if we're lucky we can get them mobilized here. But we absolutely aren't going anywhere else."

She wouldn't step foot in the direction of the building. High above, hover bikes dropped people off. That didn't matter. Escott and Arma were heading into that medical building if it was the last thing they'd do.

Five minutes later, the Chief came out looking like a ghost. "Escott...."

Escott steeled himself. He slid his hand down Arma's right arm until he gripped her palm. He wanted to hold her up.

"You guys should come in."

That was no easy task as Arma planted her feet.

"And I need to see about Mouse. And the other kids...."

That's what her words said, but the tension in her grip meant she'd run after violence.

Escott used as much power as he could without hurting her physically to hold her around the waist and right bicep. The struggle to that door was ridiculous. He found it selfish. He found it petty. And when he finally picked her up and walked through that opened door, he found her quiet. She didn't struggle or move.

She deserved her revenge, but there was none to be had—not from the Blackwells.

They sat where instructed, Arma by herself watching the floor. Escott tried to get close, but she'd scoot over so he left her. She wasn't trying to rush back outside at least. She sat...defeated.

For Escott, the harder part was having to admit what happened knowing full well his father would give him the same 'you can't fight the Blackwells' speech. It wasn't fair and it was too great an insult to humanity.

When the Chief sat beside him, the old man didn't say anything for quite a while.

"It was the Blackwells," Escott said. "Did you know they had a fighting ring?"

The Chief let out a sigh. "Yes. Because I was the one who made it."

Escott picked his head up. "What?"

"For fun. For sport. Harris and me'd fight with some of the imps down there. It was nothing serious. But then the family got bigger and there was no time for it. Tine took it over as a place for Lander to play. And whatever Tine had...Karen had. It's changed over the years thanks to her. Hell, Tine was the main attraction a few times—a guaranteed loss, of course. For anyone looking to spar against a real imp."

Snorting out a laugh, Escott wanted to spit. No wonder Lander hated and disrespected his father so much. The man was a pet.

"Figured it'd shut down eventually, but...."

"It's still there," Escott assured him. "Mr. Blackwell runs a tight show as you can see."

The Chief muttered, "E's have scanned your friend. He can't talk but from what they see...he was beaten pretty bad. He grabbed a hold of some E arm and made a wish to die. And then he caught fire. So can you elaborate?"

Arma made a sound.

Escott shook his head and told his father, "No. I can't elaborate."

"Well then I can't charge Blackwell."

"Like you ever would."

"Of course, I would." His father sat up. "What do you take me for?"

"A coward, that's what." Escott didn't mean it, but he was too proud to take it back. He fought for something to say. "You're not going after them because you're gonna say the burns are self-inflicted. Right?"

The Chief glanced at Arma, no doubt at her charred left arm.

"Are you saying it isn't true?" the Chief asked his son.

Escott didn't have an answer at first. Finally, he said, "But he was beaten beforehand." They'd fought for hours. Hours upon hours and all that time Sasha was gone. How long had his suffering gone on that he had to try and end it on his own?

"When the E's heal him, they won't be able to leave specific scarring. They'll heal it all, including those bruises. I'm sorry but without you telling me in full detail what happened, my hands are tied."

Disgusted, Escott stood and flopped down closer beside Arma. Their shoulders brushed and he risked looping her right arm in his.

"Escott," his father called. "If you have something to say, this is the time to say it."

Still refusing to meet his gaze, Escott shook his head. "Got nothing to say. Just tell us whether or not he's going to make it."

"Yes. He'll make it. It wasn't an injury intentionally made by an Elemental or an imp, so our E's can heal it. It'll take time, but they can do it. Hate to say it, but it was a blessing that the arm wasn't attached to the E at the time of injury. Physical pain is one thing, physical pain with a thought for injury cannot be fixed by anyone but the E to have caused it. So we're working hard. It'll just hurt...a lot."

The man waited; maybe he worried and needed some assurance Escott was still among the land of the sane.

"There was a woman.... Two clicks from the tunnels under Blackwell's estate. A woman paralyzed by venom...nursing scores of strange-looking Newbreed babies."

Quiet greeted him so he met his father's gaze. What he found was confusion and mistrust.

"Are you sure?"

"You don't believe me?" Escott challenged.

"Anyone telling me of imps behaving perversely, then I'm gonna need a long think on that. Humans do that, not imps."

Escott marveled. "Are you so prejudiced?"

"No. I'm just that old." The Chief sighed. "You got lucky with your guess about Blackwell's daughter, but I was right. It wasn't an imp. She had imp venom in her, no doubt from her dumbass big brother somehow, but that baby's human, through and through. So some deviant imp underground keeping a woman captive? Fuck. I'm gonna have to see that to believe it." He turned to go but paused. "And that's the last fucking time you go over my head with any case—especially one involving the Blackwells."

Escott didn't mask his disappointment. "If it was your daughter—if it was Gwen or somebody, you'd want people to at least hear you out."

"Don't you dare wish something like that on your sister."

A commotion some distance away drew Escott's focus. He didn't think much of it until Lander lumbered behind the rushing medics.

"Chief, come in here," a medic called.

The Chief yelled back, "One minute."

"No. Come now. You'll want to come now. Right now."

The door slammed shut and the Chief complied. Lander backed away, dropping into a nearby chair.

Escott didn't know what to make of it and didn't particularly care. Lander was no longer his business.

The Chief walked into the room then walked right back out to Lander and demanded, "Get in here."