Points of View

The music is "Forever Autumn" by Justin Haywood

Points of View
1

     The black lethal shape moved almost silently through the depths rising slowly toward the surface. At ninety feet it leveled off and came to a complete stop.
     “Sonar still clear, sir,” a young man in a black uniform reported in a quiet voice.
     The huge commander of the Resolution nodded sharply.
     “Up periscope,” he said in a deep voice marked by a thick Southern accent.
     The tube rose, bringing the eye cups to exactly the proper height for the tall Captain. He leaned forward, pressing his eyes to the viewer. Thickly muscled arms come up naturally to rest on the handles. As he rotated the scope, the black uniform was stretched tight across the broad back displaying an incredible physique.
     “Clear,” he announced, snapping the scope handles into the stow position. “Periscope down.”
     Silently the scope slid into the floor.
     “Okay, people, you know the drill,” the Commander’s gaze swept the compartment. “Commence opening sequence.”
     Forward of the control room there was a faint sound as the first of the missile tube doors began to open.
     “Sonar, what was the noise level on the first door?” the Commander snapped.
     “72 decibels, sir,” the young man replied.
     Resolution’s Captain smiled with grim satisfaction. It was well within parameters that he himself had laid out. Somewhere in this part of the ocean three American Los Angeles class attack subs lurked. Assurances had been given by the Director of Submarine Operations, Pacific Fleet, Admiral Hutchinson, had also ordered an Ohio from the area.
     At random intervals the missile bay doors opened, leaving no trace of pattern for U.S. Naval Sonar stations to pick up. The Commander’s only worry would be aircraft. His position had been carefully planned to avoid commercial routes and was far enough out to preclude accidental fly-overs by private aircraft. The last of the twenty-four doors locked into position.
     “Ready for launch, sir,” a man in his mid-thirties stood by the launch console.
     “Very well,” the Captain said. “Launch pattern Delta.”
     The launch officer punched in a command on the new keyboard and hit the Enter button.

     Sunlight glinted off the ruby scales, refracting the light into a million tiny sparks. His quarry lay just ahead and he had to fight down the urges of his powerful hunting instinct. This would not be a playful kill, this would be a savage kill.
     A flare of intense blue white flame drew his eye to the horizon. A tiny black dot roared into the sky, arching east toward the distant California coast. Someone else could deal with that, his target lay at the starting point of that object.
     Gathering his strength he accelerated, broad wings pushing him toward the limit of his speed. A second blue flame burst from the ocean’s surface and streaked into the afternoon sky. Folding his wings he rolled into a power dive. He was less than fifty feet from the emerging third missile when he struck the water. Superheated steam warmed him slightly as he approached the submerged craft and the fourth of the fifty foot tall projectile blazed past him.
     Pacific water was beautifully clear this far from the pollution of the shore rendering his prey easily visible. Claws extended he hit the submarine amidships as the fifth missile tube expelled its cargo.

     The submarine rocked violently as something huge struck the boat in the missile bays. Alarms broke the tense silence of the launch as water poured in through a dozen holes caused by the attackers claws. Already computers had canceled the launch order as electronics safeties were tripped throughout the vessel.
     “Sonar!” roared the Captain. “What hit us?”
     Sonar did not answer. The young man lay across his console, unconscious from bouncing head first off the equipment.
     “Joshua!” a stunning woman in a very revealing white dress had appeared beside the doomed vessel’s captain. “Are we sinking?”
     The Captain looked down at the woman. Damn, he thought to himself, I should have taken her when I had the time.
     Antoinette Devroue was one of the most beautiful women the Captain had ever seen and it irked him to know she would die without his ever having the pleasure of her body. Her long strawberry blond hair was in an unusual disarray and she had a ‘fresh from bed’ look about her that tempted the Captain to take her then and there on the chart table.
     “Lady Antoinette,” the cultured voice of Baron Jean De’Lear broke the commander’s line of thought. “Come, let us leave the Captain to his struggle.”
     The Baron gently led the distraught girl from the control room,. The Captain glared at the Baron’s back. He had never liked De’Lear and now he would not have the pleasure of killing the conceited ass.
     “I guess you’ll never get to bang her, lover,” a petite young woman purred, taking the Captain by the arm.
     It was an erotic feel to him, her one bionic hand on his bare forearm but everything was erotic about Felicity McQuillan. She had been his way into the group in the first place. Her lust for his huge body had made her his first ally. He would regret her death for she was a tiger in bed.
     “There will be other’s like her,” he murmured. “I can’t save you, Felicity.”
     “I know but it was a wild ride!” she grinned broadly. “Wanna do me now, as we die?”
     “Hell yeah,” he said, sweeping the chart table clear then lifting her up so she sat on the edge.

His claws cut through the titanium of the hull like paper. Flexing, he snapped the keel in two then released the two pieces. An awareness prickled and he turned from the spectacle of the sinking sub and looked straight into the eyes of a tall, powerfully built man dressed in a neo-Victorian style. In his arms was a tall willowy woman in her mid-twenties. With a thought he transported them to the beach some ninety miles distant. They were not his prey. The pressure wave of an implosion recalled his attention to the stricken vessel. He followed it downward easily catching the now crushed forward hull.

The sun burned Baron De’Lear as he had never been burned. Skin boiled away and his only choice was to go into the earth. As only his kind can, the creature that was Jean De’Lear bored his way deep into the sand and the soothing dark. A dragon, a ruby red dragon was his last thoughts before the sleep took him.

     Antoinette’s piercing blue eyes snapped open, the feel of lips over hers a surprise. Next to her knelt a beautiful young man about seventeen, hair bleached white with the sun and body bronzed to perfection. Her arms encircled his neck and her tongue probed for his catching him off guard.
     “Whoa, dude,” a male voice out of her line of sight said.
     As the young man pulled away she smiled up at him causing his heart to pound.
     “It was the least I could do for my savior,” she poured on the French accent.
     The man sat back on his heels, eyes wide.
     “Will you ‘elp a lady to ‘er feet?” she offered a hand to him and immediately two others made to aide her.
     “No!” she said sharply. “‘e will ‘elp me.”
     Taking her hand he stood then helped her to her feet.
     “Oh, dear,” she said in mock dismay. “My clothes seem to be ruined.”
     It was quite true. Antoinette stood facing the trio of surfers wearing little more then a gauzy twist of cloth around her hips. None of the three spoke, all trying to take in this near naked creature from the sea.
     “Per’aps your shirt?” her savior blushed and stripped off the blue Hawaiian shirt.
     His two buddies were visibly disappointed as she slowly slipped into the garment but brightened as she buttoned only the very bottom button.
     “Per’aps, a ride to San Francisco?” She purred taking her savior’s arm. “I will gladly repay you.”
Her hand rubbed across his chest lingering briefly on well defined pectoral muscles.

     Idly she tapped the pencil on the paper, leaving tiny points of graphite on the pristine white. Nick’s eyes peered at her from the pad, her most perfect work so far she felt. He is so fascinating, she thought, but would she ever know him completely?
     A breeze brought the heady scent of the distant ocean through the open windows of the tree house and she lay the pencil and pad on the coffee table.   He was up to something, she could feel it. There seemed to be a pressure on her, like the oceans at a great depth. It was a phantom thing but she knew it had something to do with Nick. Standing, she crossed the room and stepped out onto the veranda. Leaning against the rail she gazed out through the path Nick had made in the trees. The Pacific glittered in the distance and she felt a sudden yearning to be in its arms.
     A shrill whistle caused the ocean to give a mighty heave, sending a great arm of water up over the sea cliffs. Like a tsunami it charged inland seeming ready to wash all out into the sea but nary a living thing but the under growth suffered from its passing.   As though it could see the wave eddied and flowed around the forest’s tiny lives, missing a squirrel here, a robin there, until it approached the mallorn tree.
From the tree house a hundred feet above the girl plunged head first into the rising water, body arcing instantly toward the surface. Seawater shifted form, lifting the girl high up onto the face of the wave and held her steady there. Hair and blouse plastered to her body by the water she rose to her feet, balancing on the crest. Away from its unnatural habitat she bid it and back to the bosom of the ocean it fled.
     As she passed through the trees something evil cast a pawl on the peace of the forest. Looking up, for it was from that direction she felt the evil, she spied five flying things. At once she recognized their shapes, the robot she had see with that girl Heather. Though the day was warm she shivered at the sight and wondered what mischief they might be on their way to do. For a moment her aquatic transport paused as she tracked their flight then the call of the ocean pulled her away from the sight. Nick was in those waters, she felt that through the soles of her bare feet. For some reason she had a desperate need to be in his arms as soon as possible. Forgetting the flying things she commanded the wave to return to the ocean.

     For weeks I had been looking for signs of Genocide but nothing showed. It was as if Sarge, no, the Black King knew I hunted them. I had contacted Taurus and through him Pisces but Heather had nothing new to offer other than to confirm Rogue’s tale. Now, nearly a month later, I was no closer to the anti-mutant group than when I had started.
     Summertime in the California mountains made me drowsy.   I lay, stripped to cutoffs, in the middle of a meadow not far from the Manor. Hands clasp behind my head I stared up into the blue of the afternoon sky.
     It was strange, I thought, to lay here in this beauty and not have Thistle beside me. I missed her sorely, physically, but her presence was all encompassing and that was some solace. Somewhere near she lay atop a rock in her Thistlelion form and thought her own thoughts. I still cringed every time my mind touched on my actions. How could I be so stupid?
     “Ishtar, read my heart and tell your daughter how much I love her,” I said in prayer to the wind.
     A chill breeze swept across the meadow raising goose flesh on my arms. I sat up, arms bracing me and looked around. It hit me harder than I had ever felt before. My breath exploded from my lungs leaving me gasping as though I had taken a physical blow. Danger was very close.

     She padded slowly around the base of the tremendous white barked tree, a golden lioness a continent out of place. The giant redwoods of Aaron’s world had startled her with their great garth but nothing had prepared her for the majesty of this golden leafed tree. Fully twice the diameter of any she had encountered it rose to the dizzying height of almost five hundred feet.
     Standing on her hind legs, fore paws resting against the smooth bark, she gazed up. With a feline gasp she realized there was a beautiful house nestled in the branches. Was this Aaron’s doing? No, she thought not. He would have shown it to her ere she found it. It must needs be of Tsar’s work for who else would build so boldly within Archer’s realm. Several more times she circled the tree hoping to discover a way to climb it but her efforts were for not.
     At her feline throat a tiny blue staff was suspended from a delicate mithril chain and it pulsed with the beat of a heart. Even through the thick fur of her chest she was aware of it. A change had come about in it, the pulse quickened and hers increased to keep pace. Though she could not see the pendent, all of her attention focused on the minute piece of laen. What would cause him to get that excited? Turning, nose questing for the scent she knew so well, she bounded away from the white gold Mallorn tree.

     With a rush the wave that bore her reached the towering cliffs of the coast. Torrents of sea water cascaded from the heights at last sweeping Rogue over the edge. At the last instant the wave she rode flipped like the tail of a great sea creature, lofting her far out to sea and allowing her to clear the jagged fingers of rock below.
     Her body straightened, back arcing, arms flung wide as if to embrace the whole of the ocean. Wind clutched at her clothing, molding it to her body. Red gold hair streamed out behind her, a fire in the afternoon sun. And she laughed joyfully as she fell.
     At the apex of her flight she shifted her body, becoming a slim javelin. Arms extended over her head she knifed through the waves with barely a splash.

Ninety miles away he sensed her entry into the sea and a warm flush enveloped him even as he watched the dying submarine. There was three miles of water below him and he knew that soon the little pocket of the hull that was the control room would collapse. He would wait for that.

Bounding to my feet I called my clothes and weapons to me then stood searching in all directions. My danger sense told me I was surrounded. With a curse I activated my force field and stood ready.

     The Captain held Felicity, smiling grimly.
     “Any second,” she said calmly.
     All around the hull creaked and groaned as the pressure built up. A pipe burst, spraying the emergency lighting panel with seawater. Red lights flickered and died. The woman in Joshua’s arms started to tremble for the first time.

     They used standard attack helicopter tactics. Sequentially they popped up over the trees, sighted on me and fired a laser. The first attack burned a swath in the meadow grass several feet from me. Immediately I began a zigzag run for the cover of the trees. Four more lasers hissed past, none coming close, before I reached the woods.
     I paused, panting slightly, leaning against the sheltering tree. Five Minutemen, I thought to myself. This is going to be really tough. My powers of invisibility would be useless against their mutant detectors and they had weapons that could hit me even if I were desolid. Briefly I thought about calling for help but any help would be Thistle. She knew nothing of these technological terrors. I could not risk her being hurt again.
     Taking a deep breath I released my fears and my hands steadied. Detect, huh? I’ll give them detect. My powers shifted with a thought and all of the robots I had destroyed or examined flashed through my mind. Instantly a picture formed in my mind’s eye, like a radar screen. Five blips pulsed each representing a robot.
     Nocking a black feathered arrow I peered around the bole of the tree in the direction of my first attacker. Standing balanced on my toes, ready to dive either way, I waited for the attack I knew would come.

     The sea enfolded her, bathing her, soothing her. Awareness of Nick flooded her, the need to be in his arms nearly overwhelming. Turning west she set out, slim graceful legs propelling her rapidly toward the distant dragon.
     A pod of dolphin appeared from the depths and a large male nudged her gently. Reaching out a hand she gripped his tall dorsal fin and with a flip of his tail he surged forward.
     Laughter bubbled up in her as the dolphin reached top speed, easily outstripping his pod. She pulled herself close to his body, the bow wave of the dolphin encompassing her body. Thus streamlined the duo rocketed through the deep.

     Effortlessly she bounded over the fallen tree hot on his scent.
     *Aaron!*
     Her mind screamed as she felt the pulse of the miniaturized Staff of Ishtar grew stronger. He was in danger. Increasing her speed she plunged blindly through the undergrowth, ever following the elusive scent. Inwardly she prayed to Ishtar that she would be in time but at the same time a portion of her thoughts were devoted to a wish for the power of flight. Thistlelion was her only hope for rapid travel but that form did have its limits. As she ran her mind raced, cycling through all the possible dangers that might confront Aaron. There was so little she knew of his world, so many possibilities.

As the first robot topped the trees two hundred yards away, I loosed my shaft. Ten thousand volts of electricity coursed through the great machine burning out a dozen systems in an instant. The great boot jets that held it aloft failed as the force of my arrow’s discharge propelled even this monster backwards. Pieces of twisted metal rained down into the forest and a ball of acrid white smoke marked its decent.
Four lances of intense coherent light sliced through the afternoon leaving the tart smell of ozone in the air. The tree at my side burst into flame as two of the beams bisected it. The remaining two went wide, starting a pair of fires a short distance away.
The splintering of wood overhead made me look up. High above the tree that was my shelter was leaning. With a tremendous crack it broke off, pelting me with pine shrapnel and fell majestically to my left. The trunk kicked out from the stump and forced me to abandon cover. With a single leap I covered nearly ten meters. Landing I tucked and rolled coming to my feet at a dead run. I sprinted to the cover of a second tree.

     The sea was pitch black at five thousand feet but he used magic to illuminate the falling sub hull. He was amazed the thing had lasted this . . .
     *Krummp!*
     It collapsed like a crushed aluminum can.

At last the wind gave her a solid scent to follow and she raced between trees toward the north. A movement high in the air caught her eye. Far ahead a gigantic golem stood on pillars of fire, its arm extended. Altering her path to keep the thing in sight she was horrified to see a blinding beam of light lash out from the monster’s index finger. Breath beginning to labor, she charged on grimly.

With my back pressed against the trunk of a long needle pine I circled until a robot came into view. Readying my second black arrow I balanced on the balls of my feet, ready to dodge either side. In one smooth motion I drew the string back to my ear, sighted and loosed the shaft.
This strike was even more spectacular! Great hunks of smoldering metal were blasted out the robot’s back. With a lurch the monster plummeted to earth crashing into a tree and snapped it off like a twig.
Return fire shredded my covering tree and I had to roll out of the way to avoid the falling trunk. Coming to my feet I zigzagged to another tree, laser fire sizzling into the ground on all sides. Again, back to a tree I pulled my third black arrow and peered around for my next target.

The field of wreckage was tremendous, nearly three square miles. Most of his mind was locked on the approaching Rogue but the rest searched the rubble. Yard by yard his senses roamed, seeking what must be found.
There! Using his powerful tail to propel himself he cruised toward the twisted lump of metal. Stopping beside it he grabbed it in his great claws and lifted it free of the bottom ooze. With great satisfaction he rose toward the surface, clutching his prize.

Flaming debris rained from the sky and something huge struck the ground nearby. She stopped before a smoldering piece of wreckage the size of River Arch and instinctively snarled. He was close now, within five hundred yard, but where? Ozone from the brilliant fingers of light mixed with the acrid smoke coming from the chunk before her had confused her delicate sense of smell.
Wildly her mind raced, he needed her! She bounded around the smoking thing and with the blessings of Ishtar caught a clear fresh whiff of him. Joy mixed with trepidation. He was closer than she had supposed. Three hundred yards away he stood, back to a tree. His bow was ready, an arrow to the string and as she watched he circled slowly around the bole.

They knew I could hit all three of them, given the proper angle, so their approach was judiciously spaced. I targeted the left hand one and loosed. The Minuteman tried to avoid the shaft but to no avail. High voltage surged through it, blowing off the laser baring arm. Gyroscopic failure sent the thing tumbling head over heads directly away from me.
The remaining robots fired in unison. One went high over my head but other hit me square in the chest and slammed me hard against the tree. I dropped to my knees, pain flooding my mind momentarily.

Pain flared through Thistle, stunning her for a moment. Her concentration lost she reverted, leaving lioness form for the first time in many days. Ishtar's staff lay at hand and she drew it to her taking in the comfort of its feel.
Pushing back the pain she slowly stood, nude Avatar of a Goddess. Power surged in her, gathering, building with her rage and fear. Blue light blazed as she raised the staff and sought one of the flying golems.

     He was deep, very deep, perhaps deeper than she had ever been. Steadily the dolphin closed on him, each minute carrying her a half mile closer. A shift in the sea announced to Rogue that Tsar was on his way to the surface. In her heart she knew he was coming for her and she released the dolphin with a thanks.
     *Hiya, love,* the warmth of his mind enfolded her, giving her the feel of his arms around her. *I shall be with you shortly*
     Phantom lips caressed hers as she treaded water and she smiled, touching her lips. It would not replace a real kiss but it would do until he arrived.

The two remaining robots moved around the tree, tracking me. Staying on the ground presented an easy target, trying to ignoring the burns on my chest, I drew my fourth arrow as I stood and let fly.

Thistle's heart lurched as Archer climbed to his feet. She could see charred cloth and an angry red burn across his broad chest. The bow came up and he fired at something unseen to her right.

The Minuteman exploded, peppering the forest with more flaming wreckage. Fifty yards away the last robot aimed his laser and fired.

Rogue lay on her back, floating, content to await Tsar's arrival. The sound of a muffled explosion brought her upright. She could see a greasy black ball of smoke rising from the forest north of the tree house. Biting her lip she considered swimming back to shore to investigate but Tsar was coming and she could get back home faster if she waited for him. Nerves on edge now she lay back and tried to relax but her mind danced across the possibilities on shore. What could it have been?

     Magic lifted him to the surface and high into the sky. Spreading his great wings he caught an updraft and turned toward home. Held in his claw was a large chunk of twisted metal that drained bloody sea water as he flew.
     The distant explosion, perceivable only by one such as he, piqued his interest. That was very near Archer's home territory. With a dragonish grin he pitied whoever might be disturbing the archer. His concentration shifted to a far more important interest for Rogue lay afloat a short distance from shore.
     With a light heart, regardless of the thing in his claw, he sailed toward her.

     She saw it! The Staff of Ishtar burned in her hands, the power peaking.
     "Ka la necth!" she chanted and a blue bolt of incredible energy blasted the golem's head from its body.
     Never had she wielded such power. Ishtar had surely guided her hand and aided her with the Goddess' own strength.

Wildly the laser stabbed into the sky as a brilliant blue beam ripped the robot's head off. My heart stopped, for only Thistle could loose such a spell. Damn it, I had not wanted her to be put in this danger.
She knew nothing of Minutemen or their overpowering technology. My eye automatically tracked the spell back to its origin and some three hundred yards away she stood. She was nude, sunlight dappling her bronzed body, golden hair shining and the Staff of Ishtar raised high above her head in triumph. Relief flooded through me and I leaped into the air and flew toward her.

Something moved behind her, she turned and gazed up in horror as a golem, fifty feet tall reached for her.

"NO!" I screamed at the sight of the Minuteman reaching for Thistle.
It would crush her! Fear clutched my heart, I had seen her die once, it would not happen again. At 250 miles per hour I hit the robot, my body a living missile.

Thistle screamed as Archer flashed by and slammed into the thing. The golem and her lover tumbled together, landing in a heap some fifty yards away. With a sob she ran toward the wreckage mouthing words of prayer the whole way.

      Something wet and salty touched my lips as I deactivated my force field. I licked it. A gasp of infinite relief brought my eyes open and the warmth of Thistle’s lips returned me to myself. I lay in the remnants of the Minuteman, Thistle kneeling beside me. Sobs wracked her body as she kissed me over and over. I hugged her and as I moved something sharp stabbed me.
     “Oh, Ishtar, Aaron,” she said between kisses. “I thought you dead when I found no pulse and no breath!”
     “I shall be, my love, if I don’t get off this point of metal.”
     Holding her I rose into the air and carried her free of the wreck. She clung to me, face buried in my throat, crying softly. I brought us down on a patch of grass at the edge of the meadow. A sharp intake of breath from Thistle had me lifting her from her feet. I looked down and tears rose in my eyes. Her feet were a bloody mess.
     It was obvious she had climbed through the twisted metal of the robot without regard to her own safety. Kneeling, I lay her in the grass and turned my attention to her wounds. Several of the cuts had reached bone and I looked up into her pale face. Her eyes were closed and her lower lip was trapped between her teeth. Tears flowed freely as she struggled with the pain. Gently I touched the lacerated sole of one foot, she flinched but did not draw away.
     In my mind I pictured the ripped flesh healing, the blood vessels rejoining, the tendons regenerating. Gentle warmth spread through my hands and the tension in her injured foot relaxed. For a full minute I let the flesh knit until it would heal no more. Though bloody still and slightly dirty, I could see no other injury there. Satisfied I repeated the process with the other foot. Her entire body relaxed and she lay, blood spattered and beautiful, in the grass. I thought her asleep until she spoke.
     “I thought you dead, my love,” she said, opening her tear filled green eyes.
     She sat up, faced me and wrapped her strong arms around me.
     “It was a hollow, horrible feeling,” she said softly.
     I nodded, holding her tighter, tears falling down my cheeks and onto her bare shoulder.

Sunlight glinted off ruby scales catching her eye. She smiled as she tread water, watching his approach. Already she could feel him against her in her mind and she blushed slightly at the thought.

She was a tiny flame of blue-white light to his perception. Warmth washed over him as he banked toward her. He stayed high, giving her the best chance of spotting him. The instant her eyes touched him he felt a thrill. Great wings spilled their lifting air and he plummeted to sea level. Breaking at the last possible moment he flew on, now only inches above the wave tops.

Blackness, his body felt as if it were in a vise, a vise that moved. It was not downward as he would have expected but horizontally. Something or someone was transporting him. He would wait.

     Within moments the great dragon loomed over her, hovering. Gingerly he reached down and plucked her from the sea, his huge hand encircling her body. Turning his hand he held her cupped in his palm.
     "Hello, pet," she said, grinning up at him.
     "Hello, Treasure," he replied.
     A bubble of magic force formed over her to protect her from the speed he would be traveling. Tsar lifted from sea level to wing toward shore. In her mind's eye Rogue could picture the classical image they must present, the damsel in the clutches of the monstrous dragon about to be devoured. A rumbling chuckle from Tsar told her he shared the thought.

     "You do, indeed, look good enough to devour."
     She lay back against his curved fingers, her long legs stretched out, an evil grin touching her lips.
     "What do you have in mind, dragon?" she asked in mock terror.
     A myriad of possibilities flashed through Tsar's mind, each more interesting than the last.
     "Nothing you wouldn't enjoy," he assured her with a grin.

Suddenly he was in free fall, spinning head over heels until he struck hard and bounced into the air. Three times he slammed against something hard before coming to a rest.

     Rogue watched the ball of metal tsar dropped bounce across the rock and roll to a stop in the sand.
     "What was that?" she asked.
     "Some garbage I picked up," he said as he landed next to it.
     Gently he set her down in the sand then picked up the ball. Claws sank into the metal tearing it asunder. Bit by bit he peeled it like an onion until she gasped.
     "Was that a leg?" she wondered aloud.
     He looked down at her.
     "Please, Love, get up on those rocks," he pointed down the beach. "I would have you a safer distance from this."
     Seeing he was not about to continue until she complied, she climbed up on the outcropping.

     Tsar turned his attention to the wreckage and ripped it in half like an orange. With satisfaction the body dropped thirty feet to the beach.
     "Hello, Sarge," he said.
     "Tsar!" the man lay on his back looking up. "You the bastard that sank my boat?"
     "Yes," the dragon replied.
     Climbing to his feet Sarge cursed.
     "Ya Goddamn son of a bitch," he said. "Now I'm gonna hafta kill ya!"

     Joshua was pissed. Always the damn dragon was fucking with him. A movement on the rock caught his eye. Ah...he smiled. A girl stood by watching. She was a sexy little thing, late teens, nice legs and ass. He'd have to have a little fun with her after he finished with the dragon.
     "Hey, babe," he leered. "You look good enough to eat!"
     A great fist slammed into him, driving him deep into the sand like a spike. Above him the dragon growled. What was this? Tsar reacting to his taunt of this girl? As he pushed his way out of the hole he smiled.
     "So!" he crowed. "Dragon's got hisself a piece of ass!"
     Again the dragon lashed out but Joshua wasn't there this time. Sand showered the area, kicked up by Tsar's fist.
     “When I get done with you, dragon, I'm gonna take that girl of yours and fuck her to death, slowly. I'll make it last a long time," he sneered. "I'm gonna ass...."
     Dragon breath caught him.

The horrible scream was driven by huge lungs and Rogue dropped to her knees, hands covering her ears. It was the most terrifying thing she had ever experienced.

     Tsar's dragon form shifted and Nick stood a few feet from Joshua. Sarge lay on his side curled up in a ball. Nick drew himself up and calmly watched the man.
     "For years I have toyed with you, little man. I have indulged myself by our feud. To me it was a minor bit of fun and it amused me to make you mad. Now, I am no longer amused."
     Tsar raised an eyebrow as Sarge looked up slowly.
     "Shut up, ya tick turd," Joshua growled.
     Tsar squatted beside the man, his forearms resting on his knees.

The ringing in her ears had cleared and Rogue listened intently to Nick and the man he called Sarge. As Nick squatted Sarge kicked out and caught him in the chest. Rogue screamed as the blow threw Nick some fifty meters down the beach. Sarge covered his ear as the note ripped into his skull. Rogue stood, arms at her sides, fists clinched and tears welling in her eyes. Taking a deep breath she prepared to pulverize this man with sound.

Joshua's hands came down as he looked at the girl, a wolfish grin on his face.
"Pretty note, girlie," he said. "To bad it won't stop me."

High and clear the note sounded. Rogue poured everything she had into that one burst of sonics. Sarge walked toward her through it all, allowing it to wash over him like so much wind. Her eyes grew wide as it dawned on her he was going to reach her.

This girl was even better looking up close, Joshua decided as he closed on her. She had a good figure, not as meaty as he liked but not bad. Her breasts were too small though. Well, he'd have to make due.

Nick appeared so suddenly before her that Sarge literally stumbled into him. Rogue's heart pounded in her chest, fear overcome by relief that Nick was alive.

Joshua slammed into the human Tsar and immediately wrapped him up in a bear hug. The muscles of the strongest man on the planet contracted around Nick trying to squeeze the life out of him.

It was like being in a vise. His arms were pinned to his sides and the dice he held dropped uselessly to the sand. Blood began to pound in his temples and blackness edged his vision. Behind him he heard Rogue's strangled cry.

     "Nick!" she cried and pulled her sword, Luingurth from the Bag of Tricks. The blade flashed in the sunlight, coming up and then down with strength born of fear for her lover. The sword glanced off the side of Sarge's head and struck his shoulder, burying itself four inches deep. Joshua howled in surprise and pain and released Nick. Rogue pulled the blade free and blood erupted from a severed artery. She raised the sword to strike again but a hand caught hers.
     "No, Love," Nick said softly. "We will let the courts decide his fate."
     Her sword arm dropped, the tip resting in the sand and he took her in his arms. She lay her cheek on his chest and tears left a hot wet spot on his chest. Nick lifted her chin to look into her eyes then kissed her. Up came her arms around his neck, holding her mouth to his.
     "Wh..what..happened?" the voice at their feet broke the kiss.
     Both eyed the fallen Joshua.

     Tsar knelt beside the man and reached out to place his palm on the spurting wound. A few words spoken by the dragon closed the slash.
     "You were trapped," Nick said.
     "Trapped?"
     "I cast a spell that would transform you into a normal human . . . it began as soon as you touched me," the dragon told him. "You are now completely human."

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