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The following story is a work of fiction. It contains adult themes and situations and should not be read by anyone under the age of eighteen. The characters depected are copyright Radical Gopher. No character in this story is under the age of eighteen.

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PINS AND NEEDLES - Part IV

"VICTOR!"

Sapphire practically leapt off the couch she'd been napping on, startling Gwen. She dropped the book she was reading, stood and reached out to steady the blue-furred vixen. Tears of panic misted the djin's eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked the skunkette. Seeing her friend and mentor so agitated frightened her.

"He's in trouble... in pain. We've got to find him, go to him." She raised her arms, sparkles of blue magic flecking out from her hands. Gwen abruptly seized her wrists and brought both of her hands down in front of her, aborting the spell.

"Wait... Think! You can't teleport to him. It's too powerful a spell. You might hurt your kits!" Sapphire stared wildly into the dancer's eyes. Though frightened, there was a calming thoughtfulness within them. Fear, yes... but also control... and will. The vixen drew on this and it helped calm her. She took several deep breaths, closed her eyes, composed herself and promptly got sick to her stomach.

Gwen helped her to the bathroom. When she was finished the skunkette walked her back to the couch and eased her down. She looked in Sapphires eyes stroking her hand and thumb across her forehead. "You okay?"

The vixen nodded weakly putting a hand on her student's wrist. "You have to go to him... help him."

"Are you sure you weren't having a nightmare?"

"I'm sure, damn it!" she growled weakly, annoyed by the question and frustrated by her helplessness. She calmed down again quickly. "You have to find Victor."

"But how? I don't know any teleportation spells yet."

Sapphire looked up at Gwen. "Put your hand on my heart." The skunkette did as she was told. "Now, repeat after me: Kumora Bey Alcala Kubol Va!"

"Kumora Bey Alcala Kubol Va!" Green sparks of energy spun across the dancer's hand. They wound their way up her arm, along her shoulder and into her chest, which glowed with an emerald light. It faded and Gwen removed her hand, flexing it in wonder.

"Now, think of Victor."

Focusing, the skunkette thought of him, imagining his face, the laughter in his eyes, the bright red of his fur. Something pulled at her, like someone tugging gently on her heart. She turned and found herself facing toward the side of the house.

"Do you feel it?" the vixen asked. Gwen nodded. "Good! Follow that feeling. It will grow stronger the closer you get to him. Find him. I'll wait for you here."

The dancer reluctantly stood and left Sapphire lying on the couch. She dashed to her carriage house apartment, slipped into a pair of jeans, a somewhat baggy, blue, denim shirt and a leather jacket then pulled her hover bike from the garage. She started it and glided silently down the road. She had bought it only a month ago and still need practice riding it, but if she were careful she knew she could handle it. At least, it would be faster than walking.

* * * *

Standing on the rooftop of the train station Victor suddenly felt himself slammed sideways as a pair of razor razor-sharp talons ripped through the thin membrane of his wings and wrapped themselves around him. His wallet and keys flew out of his hands, sliding down the sloped eves and coming to rest in the rain gutter. He felt himself lifted and carried high into the night sky.

The owl tightened its grip, nearly squeezing the breath from him and cutting into his flesh. Everything was happening so fast he couldn't think; couldn't focus, so instead he surrendered himself to instinct. Sharp, jagged barbs sprang from his spine and tail, cutting deeply into the raptor's claws. His tail swung up, catching the underside of the owl, stabbing into the large bird.

Startled the hunter released its prey and Victor began to fall. He spread his wing and went into a tight, barely controlled left spiral. Blood seeped from several ragged tears in his wings and from deep cuts in his side. The owl hooted in anger as it dove after its escaped prey. Victor rolled to his right dodging the attack. The raptor shot past him, then swooped upward, flapping its wings in an effort to come up on the pseudo dragon from below.

Victor tried to gain altitude, flapping his wings frantically. There was a sudden pain. He looked. The exertion was ripping the membrane of his right wing open even more, making it impossible to do much more than glide. He knew gliding would make him an easy target for the owl, so instead he tucked in his wings and dove at the avian. He aimed his barbed tail for its face but the creature dodged at the last instant and he caught the leading edge of his opponent's wing. There was a owlish screech as several slashed and broken feathers drifted toward the ground.

The pseudo dragon extended his wings carefully and pulled up into a half loop, trading speed for altitude. Reaching the apex of the loop, he rolled upright and dove once more at the owl. Though it was bigger and stronger, Victor was, despite his injuries, proving himself to be the more maneuverable opponent. He spun, tucking in his wings again and slashing at his attacker with both claws and tail. He missed with his tail but caught and split several of the bird's tail feathers with his front claws.

Incredibly, the owl wouldn't give up. It spun round on one wingtip and dove at Victor, reaching for him with its talons. The small dragon quickly skidded, throwing off the raptor's aim so its claw only grazed his head. Blood dripped into his eyes. Desperately he reached up and snagged a handful of feathers, using his front paws to pull himself up onto the owl's back.

The bird rolled and dove for the trees, Victor clinging to its back. For a moment he considered using his fire-breath to end the battle, but realized that the slipstream of their aerial maneuvers would only blow the flame back into his own face, possibly blinding him at a critical moment. Instead he dug his back claws into the larger bird and flattened himself against it, hoping it would not think to try to scrape him off against a tree limb. No such luck.

The owl swooped just under a thick branch. Victor flattened himself even more; unfortunately the following branch clipped his tail. The still extended barbs caught and yanked him off the raptor's back. Four sets of claws ripped through flesh and feathers as he was dislodged. The hunter shrieked in pain and rage. It tumbled through the air, momentarily out of control and slammed into a thick tree trunk.

Victor found himself dangling by his tail from the branch. He watched as the owl thumped heavily to the leaf strewn ground. It lay silent for a moment or two, and then shakily righted itself. The bird shook itself off, spread its wings and launched itself into the night sky, finally giving up on the overly difficult prey.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Victor scrambled to the top of the branch and unhooked his tail, retracting his barbs. Looking around, he realized he was completely disoriented. The woods were thick and dark, effectively blocking the moonlight. The tree he sat in appeared to be rather tall, so he decided to climb up and see what he could. It didn't take long to reach the top, and he only had to pause once when confronted by a very territorial squirrel. The problem was quickly overcome by an angry hiss and a brief puff of flame.

Reaching the treetop, the dragon scanned the surrounding terrain. It was difficult to tell direction from the moon's position, but he did see a road not too far off. With luck, there might be a sign that would send him in the right direction. He launched himself into a glide, reaching his goal within moments. Chance seemed to favor him because as he crossed the tree line he sighted a road marker. Turning, he flared his wings so he could land on a nearby rock. His maneuver was rewarded by a painful tearing sensation as his right wing gave way. He flipped upside down and piled into the soft earth at the edge of the roadway, stunned.

* * * *

Gwen turned left onto the main road into town passing a small twenty-four hour convenience store. She felt a slight tug to her right and turned at the next corner. The feeling was definitely stronger. At the next intersection she stopped long enough to check the road signs. It was obvious she was heading more or less in the direction of the train station so she ceased zigzagging down different roads and drove her bike straight there. The station building came into sight and she slowly circled the parking lot, reaching out with her feelings.

The pull she felt from Victor was quiet strong now and seemed to be coming from somewhere off towards the northwest. Turning onto a frontage road, she slowed down looking for some sign of the todd. Drawn by her feelings, it wasn't long before the skunkette spotted the small, almost delicate form of the pseudo dragon sprawled in the dirt. She quickly dismounted her hover bike and grabbed a small first aid kit from the storage compartment under the saddle.

Kneeling next to Victor she gently shook him, calling his name. The dragon opened one eye. "Ouch!" he mumbled.

"What happened?" she asked, aghast at seeing the bloodstains that ran across his scales.

"I had to fly home from work. I got as far as the train station and was jumped by a ravenous owl."

"An owl?"

He nodded. "Must have thought I was an appetizer or something." He sat up, wincing at the pain. It almost felt like he was covered with paper cuts.

Gwen didn't know any true healing spells... not yet anyway, so she began to tend him as best she could using the first aid kit. Aside from his wings, the worst of his injuries was a long gash in his side that was still slowly oozing blood. This she staunched with several gauze pads held in place with medical tape. The other cuts and slashes had already stopped bleeding and she figured it was safe to leave them until they were home.

When finished she carried the dragon over to her hover bike and promptly discovered a small problem. The only carrying compartment was the airtight one under the bike's saddle. Gwen had meant to install the set of saddlebags that went with the bike, but had not yet gotten around to it. She was going to need both hands to maneuver the bike, so the only way to carry Victor home safely was to gently tuck him into her jacket. The problem with this became immediately apparent as the skunkette took in a breath of dragon must.

"I... I... don't know if... if this is such a good... idea," she muttered shakily. "Your scent..."

The todd understood immediately. "Do you have any kind of vapor rub in your first aid kit?" Gwen looked and nodded. "Try putting a glob of it across your nose pad, the way people working in a morgue do. It might help."

She did as instructed and found that the aroma of eucalyptus in the rub overpowered the worst effects of Victor's musk, diminishing its influence to something manageable. The skunkette looked down at the dragon who was now tucked away between her breasts. "Smart... I can see why you and Sapphire make such a good match."

"We try." Victor replied simply.

Climbing on the hover bike Gwen pulled out onto the road and traced her way back toward the station, then town. Victor yawned and closed his eyes, exhaustion replacing the adrenalin induced alertness from his earlier battle. In moments he was breathing softly, lulled to sleep by the muffled heartbeat of the skunkette.

The hover bike suddenly slowed and a red, blinking indicator light snapped on. Gwen muttered in annoyance. She hadn't charged the bike in several weeks and it had finally picked now to run low on power. Fortunately, there was more than enough juice to reach the convenience story she'd passed earlier.

Pulling in, she parked next to a charging station and entered the store. The clerk, an elderly, pock-marked human with gray hair and a thick, slightly scruffy, gray beard smiled at her. Gwen laid a credit chit on the counter and returned the old man's smile.

"Twenty minutes on station three, please."

He nodded and ran the chit through a machine, punching in a series of numbers before returning it to the skunkette. Taking the chit, she strolled out to her bike and plugged in the charger. She then placed a quick call to Sapphire to reassure her and explain the delay. From the sound of the vixen's voice it was obvious the she was greatly relieved. Finishing, Gwen then purchased a small coffee and sat outside at a convenient table as she waited for her bike to finish charging.

About five minutes later a dusty, battered, crew-cab pick-up with out of state plates pulled into the charging station next to Gwen's. Four unkempt humans piled out. They were all in their early to mid-twenties and wore black leather jackets with sharp, metal studs, red tee shirts, jeans and biker's boots. One of them hooked the charger to the truck and went inside. The others gathered casually around the open bed of the truck sipping on beer.

Even as they had pulled in Gwen felt uneasy. As she watched, she noticed one of them wore an upside-down Celtic cross with a red swastika superimposed over the cross brace. She recognized the symbol and froze, hoping they wouldn't notice her sitting in the nearby shadows. Human Leaguers were not known for their reasoning ability, only their irrational, blind hatred of constructs like herself. She wished she knew some magic for making herself invisible.

The driver rejoined the group and the men continued to talk and swig beer for several minutes. Gwen heard them mention something about a gathering several states over. There were complaints about cops, getting hassled and naturally enough how the constructs were responsible for ruining society. Gwen knew that had there been no constructs, it would have been some other religious or ethnic group upon which they would focus their hate. No matter how far mankind advanced technologically or socially, there were always throwbacks like the Human League.

A loud beeping suddenly drew everyone's attention to the hover bike. It had completed charging. The men looked around. One of them locked eyes with the skunkette and he nudged the fellow next to him. "Hey guys... looks like we got us a fur-cunt over here." They all focused on her. Two of the men drew butterfly knives and expertly flipped them open. The other two reached into the truck cab and came up with a baseball bat and a machete. Gwen stood, her back to the building. She tried to keep the small table between herself and the thugs.

"You been listenin' ta us, cunt? Been spyin' on us?" Gwen didn't respond, backing away until she felt the outside wall of the convenience store press against her. The four men spread out, trying to keep the skunkette from making a break for it.

"You know what we do ta cunts who spy on us?" their leader asked, waving the machete towards her and smiling wickedly. "First we fuck 'em, then we cut 'em and skin 'em." He took a step toward the skunkette.

"NOT AROUND HERE YOU DON'T!"

They all looked up. The store clerk was standing at the door, a shotgun aimed at the group of men.

"This ain't your fight, old man!" one of the thugs said.

He moved in close to the man with the bat. "My store... My town... My FIGHT!" He jerked the shotgun over, aiming it at the group's leader. "Drop the weapons... Now!"

The thug to on the left abruptly shifted his position, drawing the old man's attention. In that instant another thug stepped up and rammed the bat into his stomach. There was a wheezing gasp and the clerk dropped to the ground, the shotgun falling from his hands.

Gwen tried to focus enough to tap into her manna supply, but as Sapphire had previously warned fear clouded her ability. Another thug stepped forward, grabbing the skunkette and pulling her in close, pinning both her hands and trapping her tail so she couldn't raise it. He was joined by another human who helped drag her over to the bed of the truck. They laid her out, flat on her back and ripped her pants off. One thug knelt above her, holding her arms so the others could take turns.

The leader smiled, leaning in close to Gwen's face and running a hand under her chin. "You got soft fur," he grinned. "I'm gonna like adding your hide to my collection." Reaching down he slid his hand down her shirt, feeling between her breasts. His expression instantly changed from wanton cruelty to agonizing pain as a full set of small, razor-sharp teeth clamped down on his fingers.

He screamed and tore his hand out of Gwen's shirt. Blood splattered his face and he fell back against his friends. The thug holding her arms stared incredulously as Victor popped out from between the skunkette's breasts.

"ALIEN! ALIEN CHESTBURSTER!" he yelled, his voice raising itself several octaves. He pulled back, releasing Gwen's arms.

Victor stood, turned and released a gout of flame at the human singeing his hair. He screamed and clambered over the side of the truck bed, falling face first onto the pavement.

With her arms free Gwen threw herself onto her stomach and lifted her tail, catching the three brutes behind the truck full in the face with her spray. They staggered back then ran, coughing and retching the whole way as they tried to get some distance between themselves and the skunkette.

Her heart beating fast, Gwen reached down and pulled her pants back on then went over and checked on the elderly store clerk. He was just sitting up having finally caught his breath again. She handed him the shotgun and watched as he went into the store to call the police.

Returning to the truck she found Victor standing on the wheel well looking down at the unconscious thug. The pseudo-dragon glanced over at the skunkette. "I guess there is such a thing as watching too many vids," he mused aloud.

To be continued...