This extra scene takes place between The Color of Death is Blue and The Color of Life is Red. It is the full scene of the preview at the end of the first book. If you would like more extra content–such as this–then let me know in the comments. Also, little tip: the video above is best played right when they get to the party. I recommend moving it to a random point and letting it play from there. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

"Guys!" Pidge burst into the apartment with her laptop above her head. "I've got a new assignment!" She jumped over the back of the couch and sat down.

"Pidge." Keith looked over at her from above Lance on the coffee table. His shirt had been ripped off. Dog tags hung jingling from his neck. Lance's arms were wrapped around his shoulders and laced into his hair. Keith motioned to the half-naked couple, "We're kinda busy."

Pidge kept her eyes on the computer screen and waved an unfazed hand. "Yeah, yeah. Stop fucking and come here."

Lance gave him a shrug and sat them up. He joined her on the couch while Keith looked over her shoulder. Lance slipped his shirt back on, "What did you find Katie?"

Pidge adjusted her glasses and tapped away on her keyboard, "So I've received some intel on a certain party happening on the coast." She pulled up a document on her screen, "This is the guest list." She scrolled through it. "It's a ploy. Everyone going is involved with sex trafficking, which is exactly what's going to happen."

Lance sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Damn. It's that big?"

"Oh yeah," She nodded and clicked on a file. Several pictures of a man with a greying beard popped up. "This is the host. Ricardo Déga." Pidge sat back and crossed her arms with a smirk, "The party is at his building. On the rooftop."

"So," Keith stood straight and crossed his arms, "We're gonna crash this party."

Lance gasped, "Does this mean we get to go to a party?!"

Pidge whipped out her hand. Two black cards sat between her middle and index fingers. "Here's your tickets in."

Lance and Keith dusted off their finest suits and retrieved the black Mercedes out of the garage. Lance was dressed in a black suit with a blue shirt and black tie. A gold Rolex wrapped around his wrist. Keith slicked his hair back and put on a black suit with a red shirt and black tie. Pistols were hidden beneath their clothes and earpieces sat in their ears.

They pulled up to the building and handed the keys over to the valet. Waving their black cards, they stepped into the elevator and headed up. Keith informed Katie when the doors shut. "Pidge, there's two guards by the doors of the elevator and a valet at the entrance."

I've tapped into the security cameras. Received visual on you.

"Can you see this?" Keith flipped off the camera with a smirk.

Fuck you too, asshat.

"Shut up," Lance giggled, "We're almost at the top."

The doors opened to an elegant rooftop with sparkling guests. A crowded bar was over on the right; lounge chairs to the left, surrounding a small stage. White rooftop tile reflected the glittering stars and blue aura from the pool. A small shed sat behind the chairs, the stage branches off it. Various guests chatted around the deck, drinks in hand. Some were men. They wore suits and expensive watches–or had the nerve to put on a fedora. Most were women. Tight silver dresses hugged their curves while diamond jewelry jingled around their necks and ears. Spanish music blasted over the speakers, bringing a smile to Lance's face.

Lance and Keith found themselves a spot by the pool. Lance faced Keith while he scooped out the party guests. "Are you getting this?"

Yeah, I'm checking all faces. So far, they're all involved. Keep your position until I give you the word.

"Understood." Lance smiled and threaded his hand into Keith's, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Keith leaned back, "What are you doing? We don't know how they–!"

Lance tapped his shoulder and motioned over to a gay couple by the bar. Then a lesbian couple within a group of people. "They're fine with it." He shrugged, "It looks like they've got a lot of woman buyers and gay men. I'm guessing their slaves are mostly boys."

Keith nodded and turned back toward him, "Good investigating."

Lance clicked his teeth and shook his head. "Sick fuckers."

Keith wrapped an arm over his shoulder and led him toward the bar, "Would you like a drink, my love?"

Lance leaned into the touch, "Of course, my love." He giggled, "I love alcohol with blood."

Keith slammed his hand on the counter, catching the attention of the bartender. "Two margaritas." He turned and kissed the side of Lance's head as they waited.

As they received their drinks, loud cheering erupted from a crowd by the pool. Lance directed his attention toward the door of the shed. A large, muscular man with a black mask held a thin boy by his hair. He dragged him across the stage and sat him on his knees. The boy looked no more than fifteen years old. Tan skin. Long black hair. He was cleaned and dressed in small black boxers and a spaghetti-string black tank top.

"And the show starts." Keith took a sip of his drink and leaned back to watch.

Lance leaned into his chest. "Pidge, you got ID ready?"

Already on it. The one with long hair is Adahy Cates. Fifteen years old. He's been missing for three months.

Another boy was brought out and placed next to Adahy. He had light skin and a curly blond mop of hair. He was in matching clothes.

That's Spencer Mace. Fourteen. A year missing.

A boy with dark skin and shaved hair was brought out.

Artyom Fae. Sixteen years old. Three months.

The next was a tiny Asian boy with a bowl cut.

Shit. Pidge huffed, That's Makoto Aiza. He's only ten! Missing for almost five months now.

One more boy. Olive skin and short black hair. All of them were dressed uniformly.

Bai Zhao. Twelve years old. Missing for six months.

Lance did his best to hide his disgust. He would never understand what the fuck was wrong with these people.

Pidge scoffed in disbelief, Shit guys. They've got kids from all over. Listen to this. Adahy Cates is Native American. Spencer Mace is British. Artyom Fae is Russian. Makoto Aiza is Japanese. Bai Zhao is Chinese. They are all from different countries!

"I told you this was big," Keith sipped his drink and kissed Lance's cheek. "Have you located Déga?"

He's over in the right corner–your left. He's wearing a sparkly dark grey tie and brown shoes.

Keith nonchalantly turned his head, "Spotted. When can we raise hell?"

Wait for the hostages to return inside the shed. The guys with them should stay outside the door. Be careful, he's got a gun.

Lance took a drink, "How many armed?"

Not many, actually. You've got the two guys downstairs, the slave handler, and two guys on either end of the roof. Their all wearing red ties and silver watches. They made it easy.

"No other guns?"

Nope. That's it.

Finally, the boys were taken back into the shed. Keith took Lance's glass and set both on the bar. "Ready, Pidge?"

Affirmative. You're alright to fire in thirty.

Lance reached his hand back to grip the handle of his pistol. "I've got the handler and the guard next to the pool."

"No, babe." Keith hid his gun behind Lance's back. "I'll get the handler. You just take care of the guy at the pool and raising hell." He lifted Lance's chin to kiss him. "Can't let you have all the fun."

"Fine. Pidge?"

Go in three.

Lance pulled his gun out to hide it behind his thigh.

Two.

He took a couple glances at his target.

Fire away.

Keith and Lance jumped out of the shelter of the crowded bar and took down their targets. After his guy was down, Lance shot up in the air. All the guests covered their heads and dropped down. He shouted over the bullets, "Pidge?! We good?!"

Affirmative. Go!

"Keith, ready?!"

"Always." Keith whipped out his signature AR-15 and rained down on the guests of the party. Screaming only lasted for a few minutes as they were all gunned down. Blood pooled over the sparkling white tile and splattered in the walls. After what seemed like mere seconds, the gunfire stopped.

The only sounds left were the whimpers of the boys in the shed. Lance stepped over the bodies to snatch the keys and unlock the door. He put his gun away and entered with hands held wide. "Hey guys."

The boys were huddled together with Artyom in front to guard as the oldest. Chances were that most didn't speak English. Lance turned to lock eyes with the British boy. "Spencer."

His eyes widened as he cowered back.

"It's okay," he knelt down, "I'm not here to hurt you. We're here to take you guys home." He motioned to the door, "They're all gone now, so you're safe."

He spoke up in a shaky voice, "Who are you?"

Lance placed his hands on his chest. "I'm called Hellhound." Keith stepped inside with his gun across his chest. Lance gave him a disappointed glare and signed for him to put his gun away. Keith held up his hands and pointed the gun at the ceiling. Lance motioned to him, "This is my partner, Lucifer."

Spencer pushed himself back more as his body started to shake.

"I know, I know." Lance chuckled, "We have scary names. That's because they were given to us by the bad guys." He held out a hand, "Will you come with us?"

All the boys looked to Spencer. He slowly stood and walked toward Lance, hesitantly taking his hand when he was close enough.

Lance smiled at him, "Can you tell your friends to follow us?"

Spencer turned around and nodded at them, then motioned for them to follow. They stood and followed their friend.

Lance stood, "Pidge, you here?"

I'm ready downstairs. Keith got the guys by the elevator, so you can send them down.

"Alright, you know what to do." Lance explained the situation to Spencer and sent them down to Pidge.

Lance sat in the comfy lounge chair and gazed up at the stars. They shimmered through the clouds, winking down to him. The cool summer night air stroked his face and walked along the large deck. His eyes lowered to the glittering pool in front of him. It gave off a blue aura onto the white of the rooftop. A smirk crept onto Lance's face as he sat up and removed his clothes. When he was stripped down to his boxers, a voice sounded from behind him.

"I'm liking the new look," Keith strut over to him with champagne in both hands. He held a glass out for Lance, "For you, my love."

Lance took it with a blushing smile, "Why thank you, my love." He took a small sip, then set it on the small table to his right.

Keith took a seat in the chair next to him, drinking from his own as he watched him stand. Lance's feet pattered the rooftop tile as he danced toward the pool. Taking a cheeky look over his shoulder, he slowly pulled down his underwear. He fluffed his hair with a sexy head shake and took dramatic steps into the cool water, swinging his hips. He turned around to face Keith and let his body fall back, keeping his head above the water.

Keith leaned his elbow on the table next to him as he sipped his champagne, staring at Lance intently. Lance licked his lips and swam to the edge, crossing his arms onto the tile. He leaned his head down and batted his eyelashes, "You wanna join?"

Keith shot him a seductive smile, then stood to strip. As he hopped in, Lance drifted back.

Keith reached for him with a chuckle, "Come here."

Lance shot him a playful smirk then dipped his head under. He kicked through the water, moving away from him. With a breath, he brushed back his wet hair and wiped him eyes. Two arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, lifting him up with a laugh. "Keith! Put me down!"

Keith returned him to water and spun his hips to face him. Lance rested his arms around his neck and gazed into his dark purple eyes. With a giggle, he pulled him into a heated kiss. Keith's hands felt around Lance's thighs, pulling them around him. Lance's back hit the wall of the pool and something brushed against his shoulder. He pulled away from Keith to stare at the bloody arm hanging over the edge.

He pouted and leaned onto Keith's chest, "Ah, he ruined it."

Keith's chest resonated with a laugh, "Oh well. Let's head back and continue this at home, yeah?"

He picked his chest up to kiss Keith's nose, then returned to his position with a cute smile. "Okay."

Lance's eyes scanned the tile roof as Keith carried him out of the water. Bodies from the party were littered across the ground, some draped over lounge chairs or resting on shards of broken glass. Every hand seemed to clutch a glass bottle or red cup. Blood splattered the area, pooling around the once sparkling floor and permeating the air. A stream of red dropped into the clear water, slowly turning it a shade of faded pink.

With a happy sigh, Lance closed his eyes to relax. "We got them."

Keith's chest resonated with a chuckle, "We always do."