Almost before I knew it, I'd jettisoned my cargo and my wings were snapping up and over. I dropped toward the clearing like a ton of bricks, and I could feel my talons fisting themselves as I leveled out just clear of the ground, coming in fast and hard. I think he heard me coming, because he started to turn. . . .
. . . .Just in time to catch my blow full in the side of the head. The impact sent him cartwheeling across the clearing, away from the nest. I felt my wings strain as I wrenched myself upwards, whipping through a perfect Immelmann to catch the bastard in the head again just as he began to rise. This time my talons were open, and blood sprayed as he sprawled on his back across the dirt, most of the slashes across his face going clear to the bone.
An inside loop, and I slammed down on top of him with all the mass I could muster. His breath whooshed out of him, and I felt several ribs go beneath me. Before he could recover, my hind legs were standing on his splayed wings and my talons were buried in his neck muscles to just short of the great arteries.
His eyes went wide with fear when he realized what was at his throat, and I felt his claws raking ineffectually at my armored underbelly. I gave him a second to let it all sink in. Then, clenching my talons in his neck muscles until he gasped at the pain, I pulled his head up to my snout as I slowly gaped my jaws and let him enjoy the view. Suddenly I ROARED directly into his face, the sheer volume of it shocking leaves off of nearby trees as I began shaking him like a rat.
You wanna fight somebody, pal? Hah? Well I'll fight you, you little piece of crap! You FILTH! I'll rip your god-damned HEAD off!
My draconic jaws mangled the words into one long, horrible, spitting snarl, but I figured he'd gotten the message when my nose told me he'd soiled himself.
Still snarling with rage, I felt myself swelling rapidly larger and larger until, nearly double my normal size, I picked him up and flung him bodily away from me like a piece of garbage. He smashed backwards into the jungle, taking down several small trees in the process. There were several moments of stunned silence, then a scrabbling noise as he finally got his feet beneath him. The last I saw of that bedraggled wyrm, he was wobbling aloft and flying away to the northwest just as fast as he could go, his feathers stained crimson with his own blood.
Goddamn scum bucket, going after a mother and her kids... What the hell was WRONG with that guy? I'd run across this type of cockroach before in the humans' world, had even had the pleasure of targeting one or two in the course of my duties... But a DRAGON? I thought we were better than that. . . .
I sagged, feeling myself dwindling down to more normal proportions as the rage slowly faded, leaving behind a sour stomach and a deep feeling of sadness. Damn it, I really thought we were better than that.
I sighed, then began to turn away from the trees, to be stopped by a sudden, slicing pain. Aggh! What the hell? I doubled my neck back and felt at the soft skin just beneath my jaws, my talons coming away red. Huh. Well I'll be dipped. Looks like the green-feathered bastard had managed to get a lick in after all.
A touch at my side had me nearly jumping out of my scales, but it was just the female, for some reason closer than she'd ever come before and sniffing at the cut on my neck. The slash wasn't really all that bad; just painful, but after a moment she began to lick it clean anyway.
I closed my eyes and sighed gratefully as she worked over the damage with her long tongue, my thoughts wandering. Perhaps that crazy coatl wasn't her mate after all? Maybe he'd driven off or even killed her mate, and was now trying to kill his offspring? Damn, how I wish I could talk to her! It was one of the few flaws of my form; this inability to speak, but I had the feeling it was going to cost me dearly someday. . . .
. . . .Oh, this feels good. . . .With a start I realized that the female's tongue was steadily drifting off target, and beginning to work its way across my throat. The pleasure increased, and I was again surprised when a subsonic rumbling began deep in my chest. What the--? I was purring, for God's sake! And what's more, I couldn't stop!
This was ridiculous. Damn it, I'm a dragon, not a house cat! But the purring blithely ignored me; then got even louder when the female began to nip me gently, slowly working her way down my throat.
Oh! Oh, my. . . .I was getting excited as hell by all this, and found my head bending to lick, then nip at her throat as well. W-what? No! Wait! I jerked my head up in shock as I realized what I was doing. She hesitated, looked up into my face, crooning questioningly, then began to slowly rub her long length against me.
I gasped at the storm of feelings that swept over me as a result. I tried to back away, but found myself neatly pinned against the forest trees as I felt her tail twine about mine, squeezing gently. W-wait! This isn't . . . I mean I can't. . . .
My pulse was thundering in my head as she began to nip her way down my throat again, a small shudder like an electric shock going through me with each bite.
No! You shouldn't. . . .
I can't do. . . .
I mean. . . .
Uh, I. . . .
Uh. . . .
Oh, hell. . . .
It was the morning sun, peeking its way through the forest canopy and shining into my eyes that finally awakened me. I flinched away from it with a groan and tried to tuck my head under my left wing, but found myself blocked by a green-feathered coil.
With a rush the previous night came back to me, and I gave out a more heartfelt sound. I lifted my head and looked down at the sleeping coatl wrapped around me, almost like a child hugging her favorite teddy bear. . . .
. . . .Or like someone who's managed to latch onto exactly what she wanted.
I stared at her, my mind no longer clouded with adrenalin or emotion, a cold certainty settling into my guts. You don't spend as many years roving the world's trouble spots as I have without developing a healthy case of cynicism about people's motives, especially Third World women.
Hubby Hunters, we call them in the military. Gate Dates. They'll take you for the ride of your life, do absolutely anything for you, swear eternal undying love and devotion. Then you marry them, they get that Green Card that gets them into the States, and you find out just how much of a sap you really are.
I looked down at her, at what I would have sworn was a smug expression on her face, a cold anger growing inside me. She wasn't interested in me; she just wanted a replacement for that bughouse-crazy mate of hers. A new meal ticket for her and her family. She couldn't have cared less about me.
She awoke a few minutes later, looked up into my face and crooned a sleepy greeting, then began to slowly lick my throat again. I endured it for a moment or two, then pushed her away and began to disentangle myself.
She resisted gently, her puzzled croon slowly scaling its way up into a whine as I pried myself loose from her grasping coils and stumbled my way out toward the middle of the clearing. She stared after me in confusion, then rolled to her feet, her wings unfurling as if she were about to follow. But then she looked back behind her at the cave containing her nest and her young, then back at me, obviously torn.
With a low moan she let her wings drop as I turned away and launched myself into the air . . . but not before I'd seen a line of wetness begin to work its way down the side of her face. Over the treetops I flew; feeling her eyes on me long after I should have been out of sight.
"You drawin' little green snakes again?"
I concealed my sudden flash of irritation and looked up. "Hello, Nancy. Yes, I'm drawing little green snakes again."
Nancy hmmmm'd, looking at my sketch, but decided not to comment this time, thankfully. "I haven't seen you in a couple of days. Want your usual?"
"I've been a little busy lately, I'm afraid. My half-bottle of Cabernet? Yes, that's just fine."
"Okay."
Nancy left to get my wine, and I went back to my contemplation of the crude drawing. I sighed defeatedly and tossed down the crayon, began to listen idly to that Panamanian pianist hacking at the keyboard again, the music's lyrics running through my head.
"Can you tell me what love is? -I want you to show me. . . ."
I shook my head with a silent curse and glared suspiciously at the pianist, fighting a momentary urge to gut him. He continued to plink away merrily, blissfully unaware of my smoldering look.
...But what was love, anyway? A long time ago, I came to the conclusion that I was incapable of feeling that particular emotion toward anyone. It was one of the things that made me so very good at my profession: I'd spent my entire life standing outside the human race, looking in, and not liking what I saw. Hell, I felt more for the loss of a good dog than I did for a human being . . . .And true friends were a very rare thing indeed. . . .
Nancy came back with my wine, interrupting my rambling thoughts. As she turned away, I deliberately raked my eyes down her well-curved form just as hard as I could . . . and felt nothing. I've never been able to work up the slightest bit of interest in human women . . . or in men, either, for that matter. It's like they're a totally different species . . . and maybe they are.
I smiled grimly at myself. Last night, I'd experienced more emotion, more passion, than I'd experienced in all the rest of my life combined, and it had been with a winged reptile straight out of a fairy tale.
So what does that tell you, Mike?
Ever since a certain lightning strike punched its way through my window frame and forever changed my life, I'd been wrestling with a single, burning question: Was I a human who became a dragon? Or a dragon who became a human?
I think I had my answer, now.
A strange new emotion, both sweet and bitter, seeped into me as I picked up my glass and let the candlelight shine through its dark red depths. Then I lifted it in silent salute to the human race, and drained the glass dry.
Salute . . . and farewell.