!!!WARNING!!!
THIS FILE CONTAINS SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL If you will believe that
you will be offended by such material, or if you are under age, you are
required to READ NO FURTHER! Delete this file immediately and go on with
your otherwise normal life. By proceeding beyond this disclaimer you
certify that you are of legal age and that this document is not prohibited
by law in the area in which you live. The author assumes no responsibility
for any legal or other difficulties that result from unlawfully viewing or
distributing this document.
The following document is a work of erotic fiction. Any resemblance to
actual events or actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The author neither encourages nor condones any of the practices herein, but
neither does the author discourage or condemn any of same. The document is
intended only to entertain and perhaps to arouse. The author assumes no
responsibility for any action taken by the person(s) viewing this document.
Now on with the story. This document is the first of what Moon Dragon
hopes will be a series of tales that follow the adventures of a were-dragon
known as Sealoque (pronounced "shah-LOCK") Bloodstone as he searches the
land to find and defeat the evil druid Blakfyre. The druid may have been
responsible for the death of the dragon's parents, and only Sealoque can
thwart the druids plans for world domination and the enslavement of
humanity. And thus we begin...
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{ASSM} Sealoque01 {Moon Dragon} (furry viol MF oral magic f-solo 1st-Ff)
"Sealoque: The Beginning" Copyright Moon Dragon 2002
Our opens high on a rooftop in a bustling city. The sun has gone
down, but the night air is still sultry and hot. The city never sleeps,
and the noise from the traffic far below is only a subtle drone, with the
heated air rising from the streets carrying with it the oily smell of hot
metal and gasoline fumes. The roof top is empty save for a few sleeping
pigeons, but those are suddenly disturbed as the rooftop access door is
kicked open from within.
Two dressed in black pull a woman out onto the roof and slam the
door behind them. The appears to be in her early twenties, and is
obviously not here of her own free will. She is wearing a tattered blue
evening gown with one of her satin shoes missing, her short pixie cut hair is mussed, and blood trickles from a cut lip; but she is yet unbroken.
She twists free of her attackers and solidly knees one of them in the groin
before dashing back towards the door, but as the doubles over he grasps
her ankle and she falls headlong onto the roof. The fallen pulls a
pistol from beneath his expensive suede jacket and jams it beneath her
chin, ending her struggles abruptly...
...Neila ceased her scrambling and allowed the other to raise her
off the roof and put her on her feet. Her palms were scraped bloody by her
fall, but she clenched her hands into fists and remained silent.
"That wasn't very nice, bitch," growled the she had kicked, "The
boss told us to come up here and toss you off the roof, but there ain't no
reason why I can't teach you some manners first."
Her eyes widened in horror as Neila watched the hand his gun to his
leering companion and begin to unbuckle his belt. When his dark jeans had
been unfastened, the came toward her and grabbed her shoulders to force
her back down to the roof. He knotted a handful of her gown in his fist
and gave a sharp jerk, tearing the back buttons apart and baring her tits.
Her nipples stiffened as an evening breeze blew across them, and her
ravisher grinned lecherously.
"See that, Mack? The bitch wants it," Then he gave her a venomous look,
as he finished, "But if she moves, blow her brains out."
Suddenly a cold howl the night air, and Mack glanced over the edge
of the building to find its source. Finding nothing below, he looked
upward just in time to see a huge bat-like silhouette pass across the full
moon. Another wail of rage echoed off of the adjacent buildings, and Mack
instinctively ducked behind a ventilation shaft, scarcely avoiding a
withering cloud of blistering flame that singed the crushed stone rooftop
where he'd just been standing.
"It's a dragon," he screamed, "Jesus Christ, Solly, it's a fucking
dragon."
"Shut up, you moron," Solly spat, "There's no such thing as drag..."
Solly turned around to glare at Mack just in time to see the dark green
scales between the creatures claws reaching toward him. His denial turned
quickly to a screech of pain and terror as the dragon snatched him off of
Neila's body and soared high out over the edge of the building. It pulled
a tight tuck and roll, and headed back toward the roof once again, and
Solly twisted his head around to look at the creature that held him
captive. Rows of razor sharp teeth were revealed as the creatures mouth
opened, and the thug only had time for an instant of panic as he saw the
creatures eyes gleam with malicious glee. He screamed in terror but it was
too late. Before they reached the roof, the dragon opened its claws and
Solly continued forward for a moment, carried by inertia, before gravity
took over and he dropped just enough to slam with a sickening crunch into
the concrete side of the building. He bounced away from the wall and his
flailing body plummeted down toward an alley, eighty-seven below.
Amidst a shower of stones, the dragon skidded to a halt on the rooftop
and glared with crimson eyes at Mack, who was still cowering behind the one
of the buildings ventilation shafts. Neila was still laid headlong upon
the roof, about halfway between himself and the dragon, and Mack noticed
that she was looking tenderly at the creature with no fear in her at all.
So apparently she knew the thing. It had rescued her from Solly, so it
obviously cared about her well being, and maybe he could turn that to his
advantage.
The dragon growled at Mack and pointed one claw at the access door. Was
it telling him to leave? Was it letting him go? Or was it merely trying
to get him to turn away so it could attack from behind? Mack refused to be
taken by surprise the way poor Solly had been; no, he'd make the beast play
it his way or no way at all. He didn't know if the thing would understand
if he talked to it, but he'd make his message clear just the same.
"Make one move and she dies," he said as he edged toward the door. He
kept his eyes on the dragon the whole time, and just to make sure it got
the he raised the pistol that Solly had given him and leveled it at
the girl. He had only a heartbeat to realize his mistake as the dragon
filled its lungs; then he howled in agony as he was caught up in a surge of
flame that was hot enough to turn steel beams into molten slag.
The dragon ignored the charred carcass as it fell in a smouldering heap,
and softly padded toward where Neila still lay looking at him. He was
vaguely human in shape, but his neck was somewhat too long, and his limbs
were slightly out of proportion. This gave his huge body something of a
apelike gait as he shuffled to the womans side, with a thorned spade tail
dragging behind him and his massive wings billowing in the breeze. He
sniffed her from head to toe, grumbling softly as he smelled the blood on
her hands, and looked at her with one raised eyebrow.
"I'm okay," she said with a sexy Irish accent, "But I guess using myself
as bait wasn't such a hot idea?"
The dragon snorted as he crouched beside her.
"Yes, I know," Neila said, "Ye told me that before I even left the
manor, but I knew ye'd protect me. By the way, I love ye."
Then the dragon spoke, and it was as if gravel dumped from a truck had
been given a voice.
"I love you too," he rumbled, "But if they hadn't brought you to the
roof things could have been different. It was only your scent on the wind
that brought me to you in time."
"I couldn't bear the thought of losing ye," she whispered, "I guess ye
feel the same way about me too."
"I do," he said, and his voice echoed through her bones, "But fear not,
for soon we shall finish this business, you and I."
They hadn't found the druid Blakfyre yet, but they would. His trail was
getting warmer and warmer all the time, and when they caught him Sealoque
Bloodstone would bring him to his end. This quest had gone on far too
long, and they both tired of spending their days chasing a shadow of a who always managed to elude them at the last moment. It was time and past
time to bring the druid to justice and Sealoque hungered for that day as a
starving hungered for a succulent feast that was just beyond his grasp.
Sealoque was brought out of his reverie by the feel of a warm hand upon
his shoulder, and his eyes focused to see Neila gazing at him. When he
stood at his full height the woman just came past his navel, but crouched
as he was she was able to look him in the eye.
"I'm glad ye arrived when ye did," she said with a mischievous smile,
"For I'm certain that Solly was about to do awful things to me."
"Is that so?"
"Oh indeed it is," she declared wide-eyed, "In fact I'll show ye how
horribly he mistreated my new gown. Who knows what else he would have
done. I was ever so very frightened."
True to her word Neila sat upright, making no effort to cover herself,
and the tattered remains of the gowns bodice pooled about her waist. It
had been reduced to rags that would never again conceal her braless 36C
tits. She shivered slightly and gave a sexy pout. Her bottom lip quivered
for just a moment, but the giant lizard knew crocodile tears when he saw
them. She saw immediately that he wasn't buying the rescued damsel act, so
she switched gears.
"Come here my brave warrior," she whispered, "So that I may thank ye
properly for rescuing me from a horrid fate at the hands of those two
ruffians."
At the insistent pressure of Neila's hands on his shoulders, Sealoque
allowed himself to be pushed over onto his back. His massive wings spread
themselves out across the rooftop, fluttering gently as Neila climbed
astride of his body. She gave a soft murmur of contentment as her hands
roamed over the dragon's warm pebble scaled leather hide. The few
lingering scraps of her gown served her no further purpose, so she ripped
the last remnants away and cast them aside, baring the rest of her
delectable body. Long athletic legs wrapped around the dragon's hulking
physique, and full hips narrowed into her slender waist which flared
upwards to support her generous chest.
With the last of her gown torn away, Neila's modesty was protected only
by a broad ribbon of blue silk and lace held in position by the light chain
that encircled her hips. Sealoque raised his massive hands to her heaving
tits and lightly scraped his sharp talons over her nipples making her gasp
in delight. She leaned forward as the dragon's long pointed tongue snaked
out to lick her nipples while his hands slid down her back to cup her
smooth firm ass. She whimpered in anticipation as he lifted her off of his
waist and moved her up to his chest. As she moved closer he could see that
a damp spot had become noticeable in the center of the blue silk panties.
She rested her legs across his chest and placed one foot on either side of
his neck, then reached down to untie the blue silk thong that held the ends
of the chain together in the back. She promptly removed the azure
undergarment and casually discarded it with the remains of her gown. Neila
delivered a sexy wink as she spread her thighs allowing Sealoque to see the
neatly trimmed russet bush that framed her wet pussy.
Sealoque's tongue lightly tickled her inner thigh, slowly moving closer
to her center, but she moaned in frustration when it skipped over her hot
slit and danced teasingly along her other leg. Just as she was about to
burst from her unreleased excitement she felt his warm wet tongue slither
its way up from her ass to her clit in one long stroke. She let her thighs
fall further apart and groaned in ecstacy as he lapped up the wetness that
dripped from her, and was pleased that he enjoyed her taste. She was
unable to stop her hips from rocking up and down in time with the strokes
of his tongue, and she panted like an in heat when he thrust his
tongue all the way inside of her eager pussy. A dragon's tongue is much
longer than a humans and Sealoque was able to reach deep into her wet and touch areas that no human male could.
"Ooh yeah baby," she breathed, "I love when ye do that. Ooh sweet
Jesus, yes right there. Don't stop!"
Neila jerked her hips as the tongue as as three of her fingers
thrusted in and out of her slick pussy. She was close to the edge, and
when the dragon's tongue pulled out of her trembling to make tiny
circles around her clit she nearly went all the way over. She had always
been impressed by her clit, when she was aroused it peeked out of its hood
and swelled as big as the end of her thumb. She hadn't ever seen another
womans to compare it to, but she understood that hers was slightly
larger than average. Regardless of its size it was now the target of a
relentless attack as Sealoque beat a steady rhythm with his tongue.
"Mmmm! Ooh yeah," she moaned, "I want ye to make me baby. I'm
almost there. Do it baby, do it for me. Make me... Ungh, ungh!
Aaaaaaaaah!"
As her began to spasm wildly, Neila wailed out her climax and her
thighs locked around the dragons face, with her hips jerking out of control
until her orgasm subsided. Her ragged breathing slowly returned to normal
leaving her face flushed, and her whole body covered in a sheen of sweat.
She collapsed backward onto Sealoque's body and rested for a moment, then
sat up once more wearing a devilish grin across her face.
"That was great," she said, "Now ye just relax and let me play."
Neila rolled over so that her hovered over the dragon's chest, and
her own face was level with his hips. Between his legs was a small opening
in his pebbled hide that would have gone unnoticed by all save the most
intimate observer. It was through this aperture in his tough skin that
Neila gently slid her fingers, reaching for the cock that she yearned for.
She could feel his member hardening within his body and her fingers were
immediately coated with the dragon's precum. In just a few moments more
the tip of his cock emerged from hiding, and soon the rest of his throbbing
arousal made itself known. The dragon's cock was almost eleven inches in
length, just over two inches in its diameter, and the head was practically
as large as her whole fist, but Neila's skill was borne of practice.
Sealoque growled softly as Neila carefully slipped the head of his cock
into her mouth to avoid scraping him with her teeth, then began to bob her
head up and down on his shaft, taking a little more of him with each
stroke. His cock was brushing along her soft tongue with every slide and he
could feel his excitement steadily mounting but Neila exercised control,
not working him too fast. Only when Sealoque's breathing was coming in
ragged wheezing rumbles did she decide to push him over the top. Tipping
her head as far back as her current position would allow, she relaxed her
muscles and swallowed the head of his cock down her throat until only a
handful of his cock was left outside her mouth. The dragon snarled in
pleasure, amazed as always that Neila was physically capable of such a
startling act of capacity. His amazement was soon forgotten, however, as
the sensation of her tongue sliding up and down his shaft and his cock
fucking in and out of her throat became overwhelming.
Neila squealed around his shaft as she felt Sealoque grasp her hips and
deeply shove his tongue back into her pussy. He thrust his tongue roughly
in and out of her hot slit in time with her strokes up and down his cock
and soon both of them were nearing the point of no return. Neila let loose
a sound as near a wail as she could make with her mouth full and her began squeezing his tongue in rhythmic contractions. At the same time
Sealoque bellowed softly against her and she buried his cock as deeply
as she could in her mouth while he shot his hot down her throat.
Pulling his somewhat softened cock from her mouth, Neila turned around
to gaze at the dragon. Sealoque rested his horned head on the rooftop and
waited for his breathing to come back to its regular measure, then prepared
to get to his feet and depart before more of Blakfyre's lackeys came
marching up the stairs, but Neila was having none of it.
"Oh no ye don't," she said, caressing his slightly subdued cock, "I know
ye have more in ye than that."
Even while he was thinking that in this case discretion might be the
better part of valor, Sealoque felt himself stir back to life at Neila's
touch, and in moments she was stroking a raging erection. Cooing in
victory, she about faced her position and raised herself over the dragon's
loins, lodging the head of his cock against her dripping pussy. Neila
rotated her hips to work the crown of his shaft into her wet slit and once
it was planted within her began slowly to sink her body onto it.
"Oh fuck," she breathed, "Ungh! It's so big. Do ye like that baby?"
Sealoque watched her lips wrap themselves around his shaft and
grunted in response. The sight of her tiny wet slit stretching to
accommodate his cock would always be a turn on. The dragon growled as she
impaled herself on his column of flesh; she gasped at every inch, and was
soon sitting on his hips with his entire length embedded in her velvet
cunt.
Neila paused for a moment to allow her body to adjust, then began a
steady rise and fall on the dragon's cock. Lifting herself slowly until
only the head remained inside, she then plunged down to take it all with
each stroke, fucking herself on the powerful shaft with abandon. After
only a few thrusts she had increased her pace and was uttering a little
squeak each time the bottomed out in her pussy.
"Oh yeah, give it to me. Sweet Jesus yes! Ungh! Ungh!" she moaned,
"I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna... Ooh! Ooh! I'm cumming, ooh. Aaaaaaaaah!"
Neila's began to spasm out of control as waves of orgasm washed
over her body. The contracting muscles within were milking the dragon's
cock, bringing him closer and closer to his own release. Neila rode out
climax after climax, driving herself ever harder onto Sealoque's rigid
member with each spasm until he could control himself no longer. He
grasped her hips and drove his shaft to the hilt into her rippling with a growl of ecstacy, making her wail in pleasure as his filled her to overflowing.
"That's what I call a thank you," Sealoque rumbled.
"I suppose ye could say that," Neila replied with a wink, "Now I'll let
ye take me home. But first..."
Before there was time for protest Neila got to her feet, sliding the
dragon's cock out of her slit, then went down on him once more. Only after
she had and licked away the last traces of his and her juices
did she release him, allowing his shaft to withdraw into his aperture. A
wet trail of his syrupy was slowly trickling down her thigh, so she
caught it up on her fingers and swallowed that as well before she permitted
him to stand.
"Do you have any idea how nasty you are?" Sealoque asked with a grin.
"And ye love it," she said as she picked up her panties.
Without another word Sealoque swept her off her feet and leapt into the
air. The wind cooled her fevered skin as the dragon carried her naked body
through the night skies with the full moon shining brightly overhead.
After about ten minutes of flying they landed softly in the backyard of a
modest two-story Victorian in a quiet neighborhood overlooking most of the
city. The dragon set Neila on her feet and when he was sure she was steady
he released her, turned his face up to the full moon and closed his eyes.
His outline began to blur, shift and shrink, followed by sounds of popping
joints and cracking bone. Neila watched his dark green scales lose their
edges and meld together as their color wavered to a lighter shade of green
and then to a light tan color. She had seen him do this before, so she
wasn't afraid, but from the grunts and whimpers that he made she could
always tell how much it him.
Finally his outline solidified again, and where the dragon had been
moments before now stood a of about nineteen years with a cast to his shoulder length hair. He stood about five foot eleven with the
slender but steadfast body of an energetic athlete, and his dark brown eyes
blinked as he shook his head to clear the cobwebs. He reached up into a
light shade and took down a key with which he opened the manor's back door,
then waved for Neila to precede him into the waiting warmth of the large
Victorian home. As he passed through the door the overhead light revealed
a strange marking behind his left shoulder. The shape of a shield with two
bat-like wings encircled by Celtic runes.
Once inside he took down a terrycloth robe from a hook by the door
and swept it about Neila's still naked body, ignoring his own nudity in
favor of giving her the emotional security that comes with all terrycloth.
The two quickly walked into the den and each picked up a telephone and
dialed a number. Neila began speaking after about two rings, and the youth
waited only three rings more before being answered.
"Father?" Neila began, "I've bad news." "No father, I'm alright," she
continued, "But Blakfyre escaped." "I did as I told ye," she said, "But two
of his captured me." "Kilian came for me, father. He was magnificent."
"Blakfyre's hadn't a chance. I didn't believe the runes when first ye
read them to me, but now I do." "Ye spoke true, father. He really is the
Guardian." "We will find him. Will ye tell the others I fared well?" Neila
asked, "I do not wish them to worry more than necessary. Blessed be,
father." Click.
"Kilian here," said the youth, "The druid got away." "Neila went in
undercover," Kilian explained. "No, she didn't get near him. The druid
picked up on her a mile away. He set an ambush for her, but I guess he
didn't tell his about me." "He's dealt with me before, but he's never
seen Neila. How were we supposed to know that he could smell a druidess?"
"Yeah, two of them. One down in the alley, and the slightly crispy one
that we left on the rooftop." "He had a gun on her, man," Kilian stated.
"Okay, see you in a bit." Click.
Kilian turned to see Neila gazing out the window with a worried look.
He went behind her a wrapped his arms around her waist. For a while they
stood silently gazing out at the moon, each lost in the others embrace, but
Kilian turned Neila around to face him and asked her what was the matter.
"Blakfyre detected me," she said with her Irish lilt, "Only the
strongest of us can sense one another so easily. We can seek each other
out, but most of us cannot feel the presence of another druid or druidess
without conscious effort. Ye must be cautious, Kilian my love. I fear
that he has grown too powerful to be stopped."
"I promise that I'll be cautious, my beloved," Kilian replied, "I'll
cautiously shove my foot up his ass, before I tear off his ugly head."
"Kilian!"
"Alright, love," he agreed, "I'll be careful, I promise. Anyway, I'm
going up to get dressed, and you should do the same. Agent Boone is on his
way over. He wants to hear our side of things before someone gets around
to reporting the two dead bodies back in the city."
Kilian followed Neila up the stairs, and they each took a turn showering
while waiting for Boone to appear. Just after they had both finished
dressing the doorbell softly chimed a Celtic reel to announce the arrival
of their guest, and Neila went back downstairs to let him in. Kilian
walked down after her just in time to greet a in his upper forties with
a gold badge on his belt and a semiautomatic pistol holstered on his left
hip. He was accompanied by a pretty of about seventeen with her
blonde hair in two long braids and glasses perched on her slightly
upturned nose. Her loose t-shirt swelled over full that outsized
Neila's by two full cup sizes, but her shapeless blue jeans revealed
nothing about the rest of her figure. She glanced shyly at both Kilian and
Neila before lowering her gaze to avoid attracting notice.
"Hello O'Shaunessey," Boone said with half a glare towards Kilian, then,
"I am truly sorry to have to disturb you folks at such a late hour, but
good evening to you in any case, Miss O'Braedy."
"Sweet saints of Eire, Matt," Neila replied with a disapproving frown,
"How many times have I told ye about this foolish 'Miss O'Braedy' nonsense.
Every time I hear ye call me that I look around to see if my walked
in. It's Neila to ye, as it always has been and well ye know it."
"Sorry Miss O'Br... Neila," he grinned, "It's just that I'm not on a
first name basis with many pretty women, and it throws me a little."
"Speaking of pretty women," Neila smiled, "Who's this fine lass
here hiding behind ye as though she were afraid of us."
"This is my one and only daughter," Boone answered with a look of pride
on his face, "Kristina, meet Mr O'Shaunessey and Miss O'Braedy. They're
the ones I was telling you about in the car."
Kilian grinned as Neila shook her head in frustration. Matthias Boone
was an who had no intention of learning new tricks, and thinking he
was now going to roll over or fetch the newspaper was an exercise in
futility. There weren't nearly enough lawmen like Agent Boone though;
Blakfyre would have far less thugs at his command if Boone's were easier to
come by. For that reason alone the druid wanted him dead.
Boone was a who wholeheartedly did his job to get the job done and
didn't much care how it looked on his record later. He wasn't afraid to
take risks and he stepped on any toes necessary to see justice done, but
that wasn't why Blakfyre hated him. Matt Boone couldn't be bought.
Period. Offers of money or power if he helped the druid succeed, or if he
just looked the other way once in a while, only pissed him off.
Blakfyre despised anyone he couldn't control, and an honest lawman was
nothing but an obstacle to be swept aside. Boone had been assigned to the
Organized Crime Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigations over a decade
ago, and since then he had spent a great deal of time following the doings
of a national gang of Syndicate types known only as the Stone Circle.
Just seven years following his switch to the O.C. unit, Boone had
busted Kilian O'Shaunessey coming out of the fourth floor window of a high
tech consulting company. Kilian had been engaged in a little freelance
industrial espionage, and at sixteen he was lithe enough to slide through
most security systems and find access to a vault or an office where an
adult would have been unable to pass. He did a year in juvenile for
attempted theft and was surprised to be released on parole to the care of
Matthias Boone. Since then Boone had appointed himself as Kilian's mentor
in morality. He was one of only two other people who were present when
Kilian first became the were-dragon Sealoque Bloodstone that the druids
called the Guardian. Neila was the other.
"O'Shaunessey," Boone said, "I've got a question to ask you."
"Anything Matt," Kilian said as Boone took him by the arm and dragged
him out of earshot.
"I'm worried about Kristina here," the agent confessed, "Blakfyre hasn't
identified you. Sealoque doesn't have any other identity that he knows
about. My service record, on the other hand, is a matter of public record.
If the druid can't scare me off directly would he try to get at me through
her?"
Kilian nodded with a frown.
"He's more than capable of it," he replied, "Why? Anything happened
that you've somehow overlooked mentioning?"
"No, it's nothing."
"Nothing my ass, Matt," Kilian said, "If there's something you're not
telling me, I want to know, preferably before it kills you."
"Well, like I said," Boone replied after a pause, "I don't think it's
anything, but last night Kristina and me found some damage done to the car.
One of the headlights was broken and the windshield was cracked. I'd think
it was some punk kids that did it, except for the paint."
"What paint?"
"There was some kind of spray painted on the hood. Writing like
those runes on your tattoo and a star with a torch between each of the
points. It was a little weird but..."
"What color was the star?" Kilian interrupted.
"Why?" Boone asked, "Is that important?"
"What color was it? Answer me."
"Something dark I think."
"Don't 'think' damn it. Be sure. What color?"
"Well the car's right outside, so we can check if you like," said Boone,
"What difference does it make anyway?"
"The star and the torches. It's a wheel of fire," Kilian said, "Neila
can explain it better than I can."
Before Boone could stop him Kilian was out the door and heading towards
the sedan that had once been white but was now a dirty gray with apparent
spots of rust for decoration. Boone spoke to Neila while watching Kilian
through the window. When he mentioned the wheel of fire, Neila whitened
and her hands began to tremble. She had been talking to Kristina while the
men had their conversation, but she halted their chat and asked the to go into the kitchen and put on the kettle.
"The star," Neila asked when the had gone, "What color was it?"
"I'm getting a lot of that lately," Boone grimaced, "Kilian is checking
now. What difference does the color make anyway?"
"The wheel of fire is a druidic symbol," Neila explained, "It can
actually mean many things, but the color of the star is used to signify
it's intention. Green means ye are under the protection of whoever etched
the sign, amber means ye are being watched, and blue is a warning of
impending danger."
"Well none of those sound so bad."
"None of those are bad," Neila agreed, "but other colors may be less
pleasant. If the star is it means someone intends to do ye harm,
usually not fatal, but black is the worst. A black wheel of fire is the
death sign. If ye receive the black wheel ye have been marked for
destruction, ye and all that ye own."
"What do you mean by all that I own?"
"In the days it meant just that," Neila whispered, "Livestock and
pets, home and property... and kin."
Now it was Boone's turn to visibly pale. His face whitened and Neila
could see that the big tough lawman was fighting back tears of fear and
rage. Home and hearth meant very little to him, for those things could be
replaced, but his was all that he had left in the world. His had passed away from some illness, Neila knew, when the lass was just a
child, and Boone had no other family.
Just at that moment Kristina returned from the kitchen and saw her
fathers white face. She didn't ask what was wrong because she knew from
long experience that he wouldn't tell her anyway, but she hugged her and whispered that everything would be okay. It was a heartfelt
reassurance but the agent had been dealing with Stone Circle too long to
believe that. Threats made against his own person were a part of his job,
and those he would tolerate. Threats against his he certainly
would not.
Before he could say anything in response Kilian returned. He glanced at
Neila and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and that look was
all that Boone needed to see. The star was black. He raised an eyebrow at
Kilian, indicated his daughter, and the youth nodded the answer to an
unasked question.
"Kristina, sweety," he said, "I have to go out of town for a few days.
Would you mind staying here with Miss O'Braedy and Mr O'Shaunessey for a
while until I get back? It shouldn't take too long."
"Daddy, I'm seventeen," the pouted, "I can look after myself."
"I know you can," Boone assured her, "And I know I worry about you way
more than I really need to, but would you stay just for a couple of days if
only to make me feel better?"
The agreed, and without any further ado Boone gave her a kiss on
the cheek and made for the door.
"Thank you, O'Shaunessey," he called over his shoulder, "And Kristina
you be sure and mind what Miss O'Braedy tells you."
Then he was gone. With the starting of the car and a squealing of
tires, the law set off to make some things right. Kilian knew that he
had no intention of going out of town, but he had to make sure that
Kristina was in a safe place while he arranged for her to disappear for a
few weeks. As an agent of the FBI he could make it happen, but it might
take time. Boone would tell his everything about the nights
events and the meaning of the wheel when the time came for her to leave,
but for now he thought it best that she be kept out of the line of fire,
both emotionally and physically, until the plans were set in motion.
After the law was gone, the party of three made it's way out into
the kitchen for a cup of tea before going up to bed. Few words were spoken
at first but it was clear that the was quite worried about her father.
He was only secretive when something was wrong and tonight he hadn't said
more than two words together until they had arrived here. He had, however,
told her some pretty wild in the past. She had always dismissed
the silliest of these as a loving trying to be funny for his little
girl, but now she was no longer convinced.
Kristina was a bookish girl, and quite well read, so she knew Celtic
runes when she saw them. She had absolutely no idea what they meant, but
even seeing them at all was like something out of one of her fathers
stories. In fact she recalled him saying that a friend of his had some
runes on a tattoo. He said his friend could... No, it wasn't possible.
Surely that part of the couldn't be true. Even if it was, who was to
say that these were the same people? But then daddy had always said that
he turned to his friend whenever he was in trouble, and she had never seen
her act more like there was trouble brewing than he was acting now.
"Miss O'Braedy," she said, "Can I ask you for some advise."
"Ye certainly may," came the reply, "But only if ye promise never again
to call me that. As I've told that ye have so many times, my name
is Neila."
"Okay then, Neila it is," the smiled, "Anyway, I've been thinking
of getting a tattoo, and I'm not sure if my would react well to the
idea."
"Daddy's little wants a tattoo," Kilian winked at Neila, "Isn't
that cute."
"Cute isn't what I was going for," Kristina said, "But I don't want
anything big or obscene. Just something simple would be nice. Like a
little butterfly here on my ankle, or perhaps a unicorn. Do you think that
would be okay?"
"Well, have ye spoken to him about it?" Neila asked, "Have ye ever heard
him say anything to convince ye he was against the idea?"
"No not really," Kristina admitted, "But I'm afraid he'll think that
just because I want a tattoo I'll want to join a gang or something too."
"Nonsense," Neila said, "Ye know he's smarter than that. He knows that
a person needn't be bad to have a tattoo. Good people can have them as
well."
"That's what I think," Kristina said, "But I don't know anybody who has
one. Do you happen to have any tattoos? If you do I'm sure my dad will
agree."
"I don't," said Neila, "But Kilian does."
"Neila!"
"Oh hush, Kilian," Neila chided, "Show the child."
Kilian unbuttoned his and pulled his left arm out of the sleeve to
show the his tattoo. At least that's what he kept telling people it
was. In fact it wasn't really anything that could be called a tattoo at
all, it was a birthmark. It was by far more intricate than it had a right
to be, but he had been born with it nonetheless. As he lifted his away from his shoulder, Kristina could see the circle of runes around the
winged shield, and she knew that her father's hadn't been at all.
"I was right, it IS you," she breathed, "You're the were-dragon."
There fell a sudden silence, broken only by the bubbling of the tea
kettle. Kristina waited for the sound of the pin drop, but although it was
not forthcoming, she felt that she had just dropped bomb a much larger than
any pin. The silence hung for another moment, then Kilian sent Neila an 'I
told you so' glance and buttoned his again.
"Ye aren't supposed to know about that lass," Neila said finally, "What
else has your told ye?"
"He said that Mr O'Shaunessey could turn himself into a dragon,"
Kristina said in awe, "Well he didn't tell me your name, but he did mention
the tattoo. Did he tell the truth? Can you really turn into a dragon?"
"I think I'm going to have a chat with your father, lady," Kilian
said, "But I don't suppose there's any use in denying it now. I'm sure you
wouldn't believe a word I said anyway."
Then he closed his eyes and raised his face to the moonlight coming
through the window, and for a moment his hands sprouted wicked looking
talons and his skin became a leathery coat of green scales, then Kristina
blinked and it was all gone.
"There isn't room in here to complete the change," said Kilian, "If I
tried I'd hit my head on the ceiling, but I think you get the point
anyway."
"Yeah, I think I do," she said, "Does that mean that all the rest is
true too? Is there really an evil wizard who's trying to take over the
world, and a whole team of good wizards who are trying to stop him?"
"Boone has a big mouth," Neila said, "But yes, it's all true. The evil
man is called Blakfyre, and the wizards are called druids. I know because
I happen to be one of them. Blakfyre is one as well, but he has twisted
our ways more than ye can know and made them evil. Do ye have any other
questions?"
"I don't think so," Kristina replied, "Normally I'd think this would
freak me out a little, but you know it actually makes me feel a lot better.
With people like you watching his back, I'm sure my dad's going to be fine.
I mean, if a dragon can't help him, who can, right?"
"You got it," Kilian agreed solemnly, "Nobody can do the job better than
I can."
He didn't bother to add that he wasn't sure if anybody could do the job,
himself included. The was looking for reassurance, not more fear, and
she didn't need his worries about Blakfyre's power to add to her own.
"In any case," Neila said with a yawn, "I think it's way past my
bedtime. Come with me lass and I'll show ye to the guest room."
Kristina only realized at that moment how exhausted she was, and sleep
seemed like both a fantastic idea and a forgotten luxury. It was amazing
how one night could out to seem like a lifetime, but as exhausted
as she was, she still wasn't sure she could sleep. She had too much fresh
information flying around in her head, and too much information
suddenly made new. Rest wouldn't come easily tonight, but she decided to
follow Neila up the stairs to the guest bed room regardless. Even if she
couldn't sleep right away, she hadn't any right to keep her hosts awake
because of her own uneasiness.
Neila led her to an upstairs room where a beautiful four poster bed
dominated the spacious area. Luxurious curtains hung over the bay windows
and the suite was warmly brightened by orange shaded wall sconce lights. A
thick plush rug was spread over the floor and Kristina couldn't wait to
sink into the stack of pillows that the bed was buried beneath. Neila left
her to settle in and returned downstairs to where Kilian was waiting in the
kitchen.
"That poor lass," she said, "Do ye have any idea what she'll do if
something happens to her father? She'll come apart at the seams, that's
what."
"Maybe," Kilian answered, "But Matt is a tough dog. Now that he
doesn't have to look over his shoulder for her as well as himself, he'll
come out alright."
"I hope it's the truth," Neila sighed, "Wouldn't ye hate to be the one
to tell the lass that Blakfyre killed her father."
"No worries, love," Kilian said with a reassuring grin, "Old Matt Boone
is too stubborn to die. Blakfyre's lackeys don't have what it takes to top
a like that one. He's been dealing with their sort way too long for
that."
"If it were only the lackeys I'd agree with ye," said Neila, "Blakfyre
himself is another matter."
Kilian had no answer for that one, so they sat in silence until they had
both finished their tea, and then they went upstairs to bed. Their own
bedroom was only just up the hall from the one Neila had led Kristina
toward, and as they passed by outside her door, Neila decided to check in
on the a little later to make sure she was sleeping okay. She and
Kilian entered their own room, which also included a vast four poster in
elegant mahogany. A velvet drapery surrounded the bed between
the bedposts and a matching rug with matching curtains adorned the floor
and the windows. The walls were faux stone and the wall sconces were
designed to resemble actual torch light, even though they were electric.
The rest of their home was middle class and modern but those who rested
within the dragons lair slept in luxury.
Neila dimmed the lights as Kilian walked into the en suite master bath
and brushed his teeth. He then undressed and got into bed, waiting while
she changed into a short cotton nightdress and took her turn in the bath as
well. She then crawled under the covers and snuggled next to him. Just as
they were both becoming more comfortable, Neila thought about what Kristina
lying in the next room must be going through, and endured another wave of
anxiety.
"Did ye remember to lock the door after Matt left?" she asked.
"Damn," came the mumbled reply, "I don't think I did."
"I'll get it then, love," she offered, "Ye stay here."
Neila climbed out of bed and was followed immediately by soft snoring as
she left the room to bolt the front entrance. She tiptoed down the stairs
and turned the deadbolt, then she quietly tiptoed back up the steps once
more. As she neared the top of the staircase, however, she noticed a muted
radiance emanating softly from beneath Kristina's bedroom door. If the
girl had only fallen asleep with a light on she didn't wish to waken her by
opening the door, but Neila feared that Kristina had been unable to sleep
and had left the light on intentionally. She had planned to check on the
girl afterward in any case, and she knew of a way to do so without opening
the door at all.
She placed her palm on the door and softly muttered a druidic
enchantment. In a few moments her eyes glazed and a appeared
before her of the inside of the room. The ability to see the unseen was
useful when trying to locate someone, but the clairvoyance also made solid
objects no barrier to sight. As she secretly looked into the room, Neila
gasped in surprise. Kristina certainly wasn't sleeping.
Normally the appeared to be quite shy, and was probably
described as a nerd by her classmates. Kristina probably never even stood
up for her rights when bullied by her peers at school, but now that she was
alone in her bed she seemed to know exactly what she wanted quite clearly.
She had stripped to her t-shirt and sheer white panties, removing her
glasses and setting them aside as well, and even as Neila watched in
surprise the was slowly pulling off her top with her left hand
revealing a matching bra while her right was gently caressing the inside of
her thigh. She dropped the t-shirt onto the floor and began to gently
pinch her nipples through her bra, making them harder and quite visible
through the thin fabric.
A tiny voice in Neila's head whispered that she should return to her
room and leave the to her privacy, but her curiosity won out over her
guilt and she remained rooted exactly where she was.
Getting herself off had always helped her sleep, so Kristina deftly
unfastened the catch in the front of her bra, blissfully unaware of any
watchful eyes, and cupped her hands over her soft ivory tits. She wet the
tips of her fingers and traced them around her nipples, cooing quietly in
delight as the sensitive buds came completely to attention. She easily
lifted one of her yielding to her full lips, the nipple into
her mouth while continuing to fondle its twin. She switched to the other
one and gave it the same treatment and by the time she released it, both
nipples were standing at full attention.
While she had been kneading her a pleasant tingling had commenced
between her legs, and a damp patch had formed on the sheer white fabric.
She reached down and slipped one hand into her and Neila could
clearly see the outline of her hand as it began to caress her pussy.
Kristina closed her eyes with a little moan of enjoyment and spread her
legs a little farther to have better access to her quivering snatch. She
worked her fingers up and down her slit until she decided that her were only in the way. Her soft swayed as she pulled the sheer
material down to her ankles and kicked it away, then parted her thighs and
looked at the mirror on the back of the door.
Thinking herself caught, Neila gasped as the looked right at her,
then calmed when she realized that the was only watching her own
reflection in the looking glass. Her moment of guilt was forgotten,
however, when she glanced between the legs. Kristina's was shaven completely bare, and the sight of her wet naked was
extremely erotic. Neila was truly shocked by her reaction to the seventeen
year old. She had never been aroused by another woman, and she wouldn't
even think of approaching a woman sexually, but a throbbing had begun in
her own nonetheless.
Too distracted to hear the gasp of surprise outside of her door,
Kristina continued fondling her slick pussy, moaning softly each time her
fingertips bumped over her clit. Going to sleep was disregarded for the
moment, and only the desire to filled her mind. With two fingers of
her left hand Kristina opened her lips to gaze in the mirror at her
dripping hole, the she teased herself by inserting just the tip of one
finger into herself. She stirred her fingertip in tiny circles around her
opening, crying for more but not giving in to her own hunger.
The scent of her arousal filled the room with a musky fragrance and her
hips began to rock up and down on the bed as she brought herself higher and
higher. Just as she felt the first tiny fluttering of an orgasm building
within her, she surrendered all resistance and plunged two fingers as deep
as she could into her pussy. She began to thrust her fingers madly in and
out of her naked cunt, and fucked herself with abandon until her orgasm
began to build on her, then she stopped. She panted in frustration but
would not resume until the wave of approaching ecstacy receded.
Only when her lips stopped twitching around her fingers did she
withdraw them and lean over the side of her bed to retrieve her purse.
There was an ache between her legs that demanded attention but she ignored
it while she rummaged in her hand bag and brought out a small tube of
lubricant. She opened the tube and applied a generous amount to the middle
finger of her left hand, then dropped the tube back in her purse. After
she was lying flat on her back, Kristina spread her legs as far as she
could and restarted her play. She inserted one finger of her right hand
into her snatch, followed by a second and finally a third. She glanced at
the mirror and cooed when she saw her lips wrapped around her
fingers, then she reached down past her with her left hand. She
lightly stroked the tiny puckered ring, then gently pushed. She groaned as
the tip of her lubricated finger penetrated her tight asshole, and slowly
thrust the rest of it in until it was as deep as it could go.
Neila stood wide eyed in wonder. A bald was something that she
could accept, and was even a little turned on by, but this was something
she had never heard of before. Why would anyone do such a thing? Yet, she
did seem to be enjoying herself though.
Sliding her finger in and out of her asshole was beginning to bring her
back towards a powerful orgasm, so Kristina decided not to play any longer.
She badly needed release, and this was the way to get it. With three
fingers fucking her bald and one stroking into her tight ass, she
let the pressure build, but she wouldn't release it until she was ready.
Although she tried to remain as silent as she could, she was unable to stop
a few whispered moans.
"Oh yeah," she sighed, "Ungh, that's so good."
Kristina's finger pushed back and forth into her ass, but Neila's eyes
were always drawn back to the naked pussy. She couldn't hear the
girls moans, but her own clit was aching by now anyway, and there was a
little trickle running down her leg in evidence of her arousal.
"Ungh, fuck," Kristina whispered, "I'm gonna cum."
Suddenly Kristina was quite audible, although muffled, even through the
door.
"Ooh yeah, just a little more" the wailed as she fucked herself
faster, "Here it comes. I'm gonna... Ungh, ungh! Aaaaaaaaah!"
Her whole body began to thrash, and her and asshole spasmed around
her fingers. She shivered in ecstacy as her pulsed in waves, and
every little twitch sent a new thrill through her body. Bright colors
danced before her eyes and her big heaved as she groaned and gasped
for air.
When the tremors had subsided, Kristina cleaned herself up, turned out
her bedside lamp and rolled onto her side. She quickly drifted into sleep
with one hand still between her legs, lightly caressing her smooth pussy.
Letting the door fade back to it's normal state, Neila walked back up
the hall to her own room, with her making little squishing sounds
with each step. As she entered the room she saw that Kilian was still
sleeping soundly and after the trying night that they had just had she had
no wish to wake him anyway. She walked into their en suite, only turning
on the light after she had quietly closed the door. The show that she had
just watched had made her hotter than she would have believed any woman
could, and she too needed relief. She wasted no time in stripping off her
cotton nightdress and her panties, and spent a moment brushing her fingers
through her damp bush. She wanted to shave it the way Kristina had,
but she couldn't trust herself with a razor that close to such a sensitive
area.
Instead she climbed into the bathtub and took down the shower head. She
turned on the water and, after adjusting the temperature and pressure, sat
on the edge of the tub and aimed the pulsating spray between her legs. A
low groan escaped her as the water played over her dripping snatch. She
opened her lips with one hand so that her clit was exposed to
the water directly, and she was already so horny that after only a few
moments she was cumming hard.
When her own trembling had subsided she turned off the water and dried
herself off, moaning as she dragged the towel over her pussy, and got
dressed again. She quietly turned off the light and opened the door, then
climbed back into bed next to Kilian without waking him and without him
being any the wiser.
Soon she drifted off to sleep and dreamt pleasant dreams about sexy
dragons and hairless pussies. She had no idea that in the room just down
the hall Kristina was dreaming about her pretty hostess.
The next morning Kilian, having awakened before either of the women,
left the house and went into his garage. A low slung street bike covered
by a tarp rested within, and he quickly pulled the tarp away and slung one
leg over the seat. With one smooth stomp he kicked the engine into life
and roared out to the drive and entered the traffic. The engine growled as
he traveled downtown to one of the worst neighborhoods he knew and
approached a sleazy disreputable bar known as the Jackals Den. It was
frequented by all manner of thugs and cutthroats, from the cheapest hired
muscle to high priced syndicate hit men. Several of Blakfyre's own lackeys
were known to be regulars.
Even though it was before nine in the morning the Jackals Den was open
for business, and a handful of its regular clientele had already staked out
their booths and bar stools. Several of the eyed Kilian through the
greasy windows as he parked his bike and walked inside. As soon as he
entered he caught the smell of stale smoke that oozed from every surface
and the clack and clatter of the balls on the pool table echoing off of the
low ceiling. Most of the patrons flinched every time they heard the sound
of a far off police siren and each time one of the sirens wailed a few
hands darted inside jackets and toward waistbands for guns or other
weapons. This was a very nervous crowd in a place where violence could
erupt unexpectedly at any moment.
Ignoring the watching eyes, Kilian walked to the bar and asked for a
beer. While he waited for the bartender to pour his drink he
surreptitiously scanned the patrons looking for any familiar face. Finally
he caught sight of a skinny looking punk with a scar across one eye and
wearing a cheap leather jacket. Without any word of introduction he paid
for his beer and sat down at the punks table.
"Do I know you, asshole?" the punk sneered.
"No you don't," the youth replied as he took a sip of his beer.
"Well since I ain't looking for a new drinking buddy," snarled the punk,
"You can get the fuck away from me."
"Now that wasn't very polite, dumb ass," Kilian said as he calmly
brushed his long hair out of his eyes, "I just wanted to ask you a few
questions."
"You got balls man," the punk replied, "But I suggest that you get lost
before I have to seriously fuck you up."
"Listen, jerk off," Kilian said after taking another of his
beer, "On my worst day I could break you in half with one hand. So I'd
advise you to be just a little bit more cooperative if you know what's good
for you. Like I said, I just want a few answers."
"I got your answers right here, you long haired faggot," the punk leered
as he grabbed his crotch, "And all you gotta do is ask the right
questions."
Kilian shook his head in disgust.
"Fine, be that way," he said, "I guess I'll have to ask someone else."
Without another word, Kilian picked up his beer and finished it off, and
walked out of the bar. He climbed unhurriedly onto his bike and watched
his rear view mirror as he rode slowly down the street. As he had
expected, he soon had company. The punk that he had spoken to ran out of
the Jackals Den with two of his buddies in tow and got into a four wheel
drive pickup.
Kilian grinned to himself. He had laid the bait and three rats had
wandered right into the trap. Sometimes they just made it too easy, but
that was their problem not his. If they were dumb enough to fall for a
sucker play, who was he to argue?
The three lowlifes didn't seem anxious to force a confrontation in this
part of town where there might be witnesses, so Kilian obliged them by
pretending not to know that he was being followed and heading for the
outskirts of town. Once outside of city limits he intended to make like
the Pied Piper and lead the rats right where he wanted them. Then he could
proceed to question them at his leisure without fear of being interrupted.
Gunning the street bikes engine, he set off on a leisurely route out
through the industrial section of the city, with warehouses and factories
rolling by on either side of the way. The farther he rode the more sparse
the traffic became, and the three hoods in the four wheel drive trailed
along behind him as if tied to his back tire, holding a discrete distance
all the way.
Finally the parade of two passed beyond the last inhabited areas, and
Kilian turned up a side road leading out of the city altogether and into
the mountains. Soon after the asphalt was replaced by hard packed gravel
and groves of trees took the place of glass and concrete, Kilian increased
his speed and pulled slightly ahead of his pursuers but the lead was short
lived. The street bike started to shake a little as it traveled over
terrain it hadn't really been designed for; the four wheel drive was at
home in the outback however, and quickly gained back the lost ground.
Kilian pulled a hard left and sent the bike careening down a side trail.
Clouds of dust were thrown up high as the pickup overshot the narrow path
and the driver slammed on the brakes and put the vehicle into reverse, only
to realize that the beaten track wasn't wide enough for the four wheel
drive to enter. The earthy scents of leaves and soil hung in the air as
the three jumped out of the truck and followed on foot. The original
punk from the bar led the way, and his two friends came behind more slowly.
They were better dressed than the first had been, and seemed to be
proceeding with more caution. The first punk had charged on ahead and had
begun yelling back for his friends to catch up.
Soon all three stood in a clearing and could easily see that the
path had come to an end. The abandoned street bike was lying down on its
side in the dirt with the wheels still spinning, the long haired guy that
they had been chasing was nowhere to be seen, and the punk in the leather
jacket was bawling orders at the other two as if he thought they really
gave a damn.
From his perch in a tree about twenty feet away, Kilian reassessed the
situation. He had planned on easily overpowering a few punks like the one
that had chased him out of the bar, but these two weren't of that category.
They weren't actually of any category that the first punk would normally
associate with. In fact these two put Kilian in mind of Mack and Solly,
the two syndicate types who had abducted Neila from the party last night.
Blakfyre always kept a close company of those as his lieutenants in the
Stone Circle. Only a select few of them knew what he really was, and even
fewer were aware of his true plans.
These were definitely not Blakfyre's low end lackeys, but Kilian
still wasn't worried. Even when prepared and at their best, the druids
syndicate were little or no match for Sealoque, and they would meet the
dragon shortly. Kilian lifted his face to the sky and allowed the Change
to overtake him. His skin became a coat of scales and talons grew from his
fingers. Crunching and cracking noises surrounded him as his bones and
joints shifted to a new shape, and amidst the noises Kilian began to grow
as the skin over his shoulders to unfurl two massive leathery bat
like wings. His spinal column lengthened outside of his body until it was
almost double his original height and a spade opened at the end of his
muscular tail.
The three searching were alerted to his presence in the tree top by
the sounds of breaking bones, but before they could react, a loud snap came
from the same tree and a huge green shape dropped to the ground. The
branch that had easily held Kilian aloft had no chance against a five
hundred pound dragon. It promptly splintered under him, and Sealoque
plummeted downward to the loamy earth below. He landed on his feet with
feline grace, but the ground still shook from the force of the dragons
weight. At the moment of impact Sealoque's crimson eyes locked gazes with
the youth from the bar and in those last instants of his life the punk was
shown his own death.
"Oh shit," the punk yelled, but it was too late.
Sealoque intended to question this one and find out how much he knew
about Blakfyre and his whereabouts, as he had been at the party last night.
Neila had been doing her undercover work quite well, talking it up with
several of the druids minions, including Mack and Solly, when this punk
came in and pulled them both aside. A few whispered words sent Neila's
plans awry, and the druidess soon found herself on a rooftop with the two
men, at least one of whom intended to rape her before killing her.
Sealoque reasoned that the punk had in fact been passing on a message from
Blakfyre, ergo ab factum he had to have spoken to Blakfyre himself not long
before. He wasn't above using some not so gentle persuasion to sway the
punk into telling him everything he knew, and he wasn't about to let two
syndicate henchmen stop him.
The dragon pounced like a leopard on the hunt and pinned the thug to the
ground with one long talon pierced through his leather jacket.
"You almost got a pretty lady killed, punk," he growled, "Now it's your
turn."
"I didn't do nothing, I swear," the punk stammered, "Leave me alone."
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