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... 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

{ASSM} Sealoque01 {Moon Dragon} (furry viol MF oral magic f-solo 1st-Ff)
"Sealoque: The Beginning" Copyright Moon Dragon 2002

Our story 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 men dressed in black pull a woman out onto the roof and slam the door
behind them. The girl 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 red 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 man
doubles over he grasps her ankle and she falls headlong onto the roof. The fallen
man 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 man 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 man 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 man hand his gun to his leering
companion and begin to unbuckle his belt. When his dark jeans had been
unfastened, the man 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 split 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 stories 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 picture 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 man 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 man 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 animal 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 cunt 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 thick 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 cunt 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 pussy 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 cum baby. I'm almost
there. Do it baby, do it for me. Make me... Ungh, ungh! Aaaaaaaaah!"

As her pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy began squeezing his tongue in
rhythmic contractions. At the same time Sealoque bellowed softly against her cunt
and she buried his cock as deeply as she could in her mouth while he shot his hot
cum 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 pussy 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 big cock 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 pussy 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 cunt with a growl of animal ecstacy, making her wail in pleasure as his
thick cum filled her pussy 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 sucked and
licked away the last traces of his cum and her juices did she release him, allowing
his shaft to withdraw into his aperture. A wet trail of his syrupy cum 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 hurt him.

Finally his outline solidified again, and where the dragon had been moments before
now stood a young man of about nineteen years with a red 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 thick 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 men captured me."
"Kilian came for me, father. He was magnificent."
"Blakfyre's men 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 men 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
man 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 young girl of about
seventeen with her blonde hair in two long braids and thick glasses perched on her
slightly upturned nose. Her loose t-shirt swelled over full breasts 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 mother 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 young women, and it throws me a little."

"Speaking of pretty young 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 old
dog 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 man 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 picture 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 young girl to go into the
kitchen and put on the kettle.

"The star," Neila asked when the girl 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 red 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 old 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 daughter was
all that he had left in the world. His wife 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 father 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
daughter 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 girl 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 girl 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
man 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 daughter 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 man 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 girl 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 stories in
the past. She had always dismissed the silliest of these as a loving father 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 story 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
father 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 father ye have so many times, my name is Neila."

"Okay then, Neila it is," the girl smiled, "Anyway, I've been thinking of getting a
tattoo, and I'm not sure if my father would react well to the idea."

"Daddy's little girl 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 shirt and pulled his left arm out of the sleeve to show the girl
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 shirt away from his shoulder, Kristina could see the circle of runes around
the winged shield, and she knew that her father's stories hadn't been stories 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
shirt again.

"Ye aren't supposed to know about that lass," Neila said finally, "What else has
your father 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, young 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 girl 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 stretch 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 old 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 old 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 man 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 girl 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 thick red 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 picture 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 young girl 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 girl 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 girl 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 tits to her full  lips, sucking 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 tits 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 panties 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 panties were only in the way. Her soft tits 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 girl looked right at her, then calmed
when she realized that the girl was only watching her own reflection in the looking
glass. Her moment of guilt was forgotten, however, when she glanced between the
young girls legs. Kristina's pussy was shaven completely bare, and the sight of her
wet naked cunt 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 snatch 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 cum
filled her mind. With two fingers of her left hand Kristina opened her pussy 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 pussy 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 pussy lips wrapped around her fingers, then
she reached down past her pussy 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 pussy 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
snatch 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 girls 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 girl wailed as she fucked herself faster, "Here it
comes. I'm gonna... Ungh, ungh! Aaaaaaaaah!"

Her whole body began to thrash, and her pussy and asshole spasmed around her
fingers. She shivered in ecstacy as her snatch pulsed in waves, and every little
twitch sent a new thrill through her body. Bright colors danced before her eyes and
her big tits 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 snatch 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 red 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 pussy lips with one
hand so that her thick 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 men 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 swallow 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 men 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 man 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 men 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
men 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 men 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 men were definitely not Blakfyre's low end lackeys, but Kilian still wasn't
worried. Even when prepared and at their best, the druids syndicate men 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 split 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 men 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."