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It had been a few weeks since Junior’s kidnapping and aside from some lingering dreams, he seemed to be recovering from the incident rather well. He went back to school, and he and Jon had decided it was time to be more public about their relationship. As he went through the halls, his scales crawled with anxiety. He and Jon—in his varsity football letterman jacket, no less—were walking through the school’s main entrance walking hand in hand. Ricky’s grip was tight. Like a vice. That’s how nervous he was. For Jon, especially. He loved Jon. Had loved Jon since elementary school. Before he even truly understood what love was, Jon was the only person that Rick imagined himself with. Even during the bullying phase. He never wanted to hurt the football star.

As the inner doors opened into the main hall of the school and the two filed into the building, nothing seemed to have changed. No one made comment on their holding hands. Nor the fact that Jon was now walking side by side with one of the kids he’d harassed for the better part of six years. They walked through the school hand in hand and none batted an eye. No one had a single thing to say.

As Rick approached his locker, though he had a sneaking suspicion it had been rigged by his ever-present tormentors. Yet no one was there. Nobody was lying in wait. So why did he feel like someone was out to get him. As he put his scaly fingers on the dial of the combination lock he hesitated. He’d been picked on so many times he felt he had a sixth sense for being about to be pranked.

“Everything alright, Junior?” the human asked him.

“Yeah. Just…I feel like someone’s rigged my locker.”

The Quarterback chuckled. He banged the locker in the right spot and it popped open, the door swinging wide and revealing…nothing. His books, his school supplies and his poster of his favorite band, all intact and exactly as they’d been the day before. “Huh?” the Naga looked shocked at not being pranked.

“Ricky, who was your biggest bully?”

“…You…why…?” the Naga looked dumbfounded by the question. Then it came to him…the smashing the locker open. “You! You were the one who filled my locker with paint? Oh, I’m so glad that I’m dating you now.” The Naga’s voice was filled with relief.

He grabbed the books he needed for his next class and put them in his backpack. They headed to Jon’s locker next, he used the same method and as soon as he hit it he knew he was in for it. The usual echo-y bang that resounded wasn’t present and when the door swung open it was with greater force than normal as a torrent of bright pink—almost neon—flooded over his person.

The face of seething anger present on Jon’s face would have been enough to make steel boil. Ricky had to hold back a chuckle. He hated to admit it, but seeing the human get a little of what he usually gave was immensely satisfying. At the same time though, he was angry for his new mate. It wasn’t fair for him to get this treatment. Especially because they both knew that it was his fellow teammates that were doing this.

“I’ll be right back.” Jon said through clenched teeth, before stomping off toward the gym and the locker rooms, still dripping the hot pink paint. He shoved a bear out of his way and said bear looked none too pleased about it.

Ricky placed his head in his hands before looking up into the sky in askance. He slithered as quickly as his tail could carry him to let him get to the locker room before Jon did something he’d regret.

***

Richarde sat perched on his coils in front of his work computer going through emails. His time away from work meaning that his inbox was practically filled to the brim. His silent room was filled with constant clicking of keys and the mouse as he sent replies, deleted junk and just all around cleaned out his inbox. Finally, he got himself down to one unread email. It was labeled “Unknown Sender,” and it had been sent earlier in the day.

He hesitantly hovered the mouse arrow over the email to click on it and read it. Not knowing who it was from made him suspicious of a scam. But at the same time, his recent run in with the Kazegami made him even more aware of the potential dangers of any contact from unknown sources.

He clicked it anyways, his curiosity getting the better of him. The email was just an attachment. He hovered over it to make sure it was what it said it was and then opened it. It was an image. And said image was highly disturbing. It was a photo of his wife’s sister. She was strapped down, tail and all, to a long table. And on top of her with his overwhelmingly large penis buried deep in her vent was a large, burly looking equine. His fur was frothed with sweat from the effort of a deep rut. And She looked about as willing as a rabbit getting pounced on by a fox.

He was frozen with mouth agape staring at the picture. Which of course was when the most senior partner of his firm decided to stop by for a visit. He coughed to get the Naga’s attention. “Ain’t ya evah seen porn before, Rick?”

The Naga whipped around quickly, “Sir, this isn’t what it looks like! I swear.”

“Calm down, son. I know exactly who that horse is. And I’m guessing you know exactly who that Naga is underneath him,” the Naga gingerly nodded his head in acknowledgement of the correct deduction, “That there is a warning from the Kazegami. The Thoroughbred there is Maxim Salazar Guerrero. He’s the head honcho. He has more pull than most politicians are willing to admit. This here is a rather blunt statement.”

“Which is?”

“’I’ve got you where I want you’.”

***

Maxim looked at the female Naga take his dick and it built in him a sense of joy. He loved watching them squirm around his dick. He pistoned in and out of her with reckless abandon. Not heeding her cries of agony. Her begging for him to stop just egged him on. In fact, he just increased his pace.

He was going so fast that he knew he wasn’t going to last long, and in fact he could feel the welling up of his orgasm deep in his groin. “I’m going to make you mine, bitch! Got that?”

She whimpered in agony as unbidden he felt her vent pulsate and she spilled her juices around his shaft. That sensation sent him over the edge and he buried his flare deep within her passage and spilled his seed within her.

He pulled out viciously and left her strapped to the table. There for the other men to use at their leisure. He cared not whether she survived the experience or not. As he left, though, he shouted to the men, “Try not to break her.”

***

“Calm down, Rick. I’ve contacted Rochester PD. They’re doing everything they can. We’ll find her.” Kevin pleaded. Richarde was slithering back and forth, pacing in the kitchen.

At the same time, Jon was comforting a crying Junior who bemoaned, “Why is this happening to us?”

“I don’t know love. I don’t know. But the police are doing everything they can.” Jon replied, squeezing his lover.

Finally, Kevin had had enough. He walked up to Richarde and grabbed him by the upper arms. Holding the lawyer steady and kissed him possessively upon the lips. “I love you. You damned crazy reptile, I love you.”

Richarde looked down upon his human lover. His mate. His fiancé. His everything. He sighed, “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to let the Rochester police do their jobs. Don’t worry, Detective Ramirez and I will continue to stay in contact with them. This Maxim guy won’t get away with this, I swear to you.” Kevin kissed him again.

“Syrrah. Please, be ok.”

***

The SWAT team prepared to breach the safe house. Their breacher, a hare named Sullivan pulled his battering ram back and slammed it forward, the steel door bent in its frame, swinging open. The team cleared the main entrance and moved to the next room. They swept through the house, clearing room after room. Their muzzle-mounted lights sweeping the walls and floors like so many searchlights.

Then Sullivan radioed, “Tango down, guarding what looks like the cellar door. Converge on me.”

The team rendezvoused in the room where Sullivan was and indeed, an emaciated jackal with track marks covering the crick in his elbow on both arms lay in a pool of his own blood. The Jackal’s gun—a MAC-10—lay a couple feet away, having been kicked there after the hare had taken him down. Sullivan grabbed the battering ram again and shattered the apparently wooded door into kindling before rushing down the stairs, S&W 9mm suppressed drawn and at the ready. The distinct sound of four suppressed shots being fired greeted the rest of the team as they hurried down the stairs to meet their breacher. There was the Naga strapped down to the table. Her vent inflamed and raw, her gaze empty, and her breathing shallow. “Hostage found, we need a bus here forthwith,” Sullivan radioed and then to the bound Naga, “Ma’am we’re here to help, my name is Officer John Sullivan. I’m with Rochester PD.”

She shied away from him, hissing. She sounded almost feral. “Shit.”

***

“She’s going to need counselling. Severe shock and PTSD. Her body will recover fine. She’s already started healing. Mentally, though she’s going to need time. In order to deal with the experience, she blocked her conscious mind off from the outside world. Right now, she’s acting more like a giant snake than your sister in law. I’m sorry Mr. Lawrence.” The doctor spoke so calmly, it freaked Kevin out, “I wouldn’t advise going in there at the moment, she’s more likely to attack you than greet you with a warm hug.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. Though, Doctor, isn’t it possible I could pull her out of this with my psionics? After all Naga families tend to communicate mostly by psionics, anyways. Perhaps the touch of a familiar presence will bring her back to us.”

“I…Yes. It is possible, but I still wouldn’t advise it.”

“Do you have the antivenom, should she lash out?”

“Yes…I can’t stop you, can I?”

“No.” Richarde said with as much conviction as he could muster. He entered Syrrah’s mindspace and was scared at what he found. ~Syrrah, It’s me. It’s Richarde. Please, you’re safe, now. Please come back to us.~

As if in response he heard a loud hissing. But then, just a whisper in the mindspace, he heard Syrrah, say, ~Rick? As in Ruby’s Rick?~

~Yes. Come back to us, Syrrah. Your nephew is worried sick over you.~ He said, quickly leaving her mindspace. He looked over to his son, “Junior, come with me.”

“Of course.” The younger Naga slithered up to his father and the two went into the room together. “Auntie Syrrah?”

Syrrah’s form stirred and when she looked at them, they could see the spark of life of their relative clearly back. Maybe not as bright as it once was, but she was still there. Junior slithered as fast as his tail could carry him and hugged her as tight as he could. “How’s my little man? Gotten longer, I see.”

“Yup.” Ricky shone with the complement.

Syrrah looked at Richarde with no small amount of pain. “Could you go get your auntie and Dad something from the vending machine?”

“Huh?...Oh sure.” Junior replied. Happy his aunt seemed to be back to herself, he slithered off to go find a vending machine.

As soon as the young Naga exited the room, Syrrah lunged at Richarde. Coiling herself around him and squeezing as tightly as she could. She bared her fangs at him and nearly screamed, “What the hell was that about, Richarde? Who the fuck did you piss off this time?”

“Syrrah, please. I don’t think it was me this time.”

“What?”

“Wait…this has happened before? Rick what the hell?” A third voice entered the conversation. That voice ended up being Kevin.

The Mauve-colored Naga looked up and gave the human a once over, “Your new toy?”

“My mate.”

“What?”

“Syrrah Patel? Meet Kevin Biel of the CCPD and my mate. Kev? Meet Syrrah Patel, my sister in law.”

“You know he’s a defense lawyer, don’t you?” Pyrrah asked Kevin.

“Yes. I’m quite aware. Now Pyrrah. I’ve asked the Rochester guys if I can interview you. They got a rape kit and are testing it now. Anything you can tell us?”

“No. I don’t really remember much after they grabbed me off the street dressed like they were right out of some ninja flick.”

“Really? Nothing at all?”

“No. Except…I remember his face. I think I’ve seen this guy on the TV a couple of times. Big thoroughbred stallion. That’s pretty much it. After that I kind of blacked out.”

“That confirms our suspicions. Maxim. Damn fucker thinks he can get away with anything. He practically can.” Richarde spat.

“You ready to work on the right side of the law?” Kevin asked Richarde, “I’ve already contacted the local DA. He said he’d welcome a lawyer familiar with the specifics surrounding the case.”

“Hell yeah.”

“Don’t go off all half-cocked Detective Biel. You’re gonna need a partner.” A fourth voice entered the fray, a tall, lean lutrin entered the room. His head fur swept back to make it not so puffy. “Ma’am.” He said nodding in her direction. “Name’s Detective Victor Ramirez. I’m Kevin’s partner on the force.”

The otter walked over to Kevin and punched him in the shoulder. “Ow. Ok. Probably deserved that.”

“Damn straight, hume. Daddy asked me to watch over you. He thinks you might be too close to this case and asked me to keep your head on straight.” He nodded as if he’d just laid down the sagest wisdom ever laid, “C’mon. We’ve got to go talk to the guys at the RPD CSI.”

The two detectives exited the room. “So, you replaced her, did you?”

“Syrrah…” Richarde warned, “You know how much I loved your sister. She died, and I may be a Naga, but I’m not gonna deny my chance at loving another.”

“Is he good to Ricky?”

“Yes.”

“Well then he’s ok in my book. Now, go. I need to rest.”

“Ok, Syrrah. Call me when you’re ready to come home.”

***

The lieutenant in charge of the Crime Scene Unit was straight out of one of the TV shows. He had the glasses, the receding hair ling the orange-red hair. And he seemed to be just as big a tool as that particularly punny character. “You from Caulder?”

“Yes.” Kevin answered.

“Reyes and Ball?”

“Ramirez and Biel.” Ramirez corrected.

“Ah. Right. Commissioner Biel’s son and his body guard. Just what I need.”

“Excuse me, Lieutenant. But I’m pretty sure we’re here to assist you in an investigation. Not cause you problems.” Ramirez interjected with a little bit more attitude than was called for.

“Excuse me, detective?”

“Sorry, Lieutenant. Ramirez can be a bit of a hothead. Forgive him.” Kevin begged.

“I’ll let it slide. So, since you’re here, tell me what you got. Well Maxim’s a pretty tough cookie. A rap sheet a mile long and then some. We’ve known for some time that he’s a rapist. He’s a sick psycho with a deep wallet and better lawyers.

“CCPD’s been trying to nail this guy on Sexual Assault, Battery, murder, grand Larson, et cetera. Yet nothing sticks.” Ramirez explained, plainly.

“He’s the head honcho of the group known as Kazegami and has been a thorn in the department’s side since he arrived here from Spain a decade ago. We get something on him, and then the evidence disappears, the detectives do, or his lawyers find some small technicality on how we investigated the crime to get him off the hook, because someone on the force screwed up,” Kevin continued, “We need this to be a clean, by-the-book, case, lieutenant. Or we’ll never lock him up for this. Did the results on the rape kit come back, yet?”

***

“Our Lord in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory for ever and ever. Amen” Syrrah prayed over the meal.

A look around the table and every head was bowed in respect of the prayer. A chorus of five “Amen”s followed the prayer as everyone hurriedly dove into their meal. Silence reigned as the meal’s participants dug in. “This is real good, Ms. Patel.” Victor commented, his mouth only partially clear.

“Well, thank you, Detective. And not just for the compliment.”

“Of course, Ma’am.”

“Now, Richarde? Explain.”

“What?”

“Out with it. How did you two meet? How long have you known each other? And why is he blushing like a fool?” She added after noticing the tomato sitting on Kevin’s shoulders. Or was that his head? One couldn’t be sure with the ruddiness of Kevin’s blush.

“I’d rather not.”

_~Do I have to…OH!~ “_I see…I apologize, Kevin. I didn’t know.” She said somberly after clearly seeing the memory of the funeral play out in Richarde’s head.

_“_Yeah…” Kevin looked forlorn for a moment. “Quite the month.”

“A month. Damn, Richarde! I knew you were fast, but damn.”

“Oh hush, Syrrah.” Richarde silenced his sister in law.

“Can I ask a question?” Ramirez asked, his ear flicking in nervousness.

“Sure. You already did. Now didn’t you?” Syrrah replied.

“Well, I heard Richarde say to the doctor that Naga communicated psychically in the home why aren’t you doing that now?”

“We have non-psionic company and it’s considered rude to presume.”

“Oh.”

“So. Ricky, I’m going to guess by the way that you’re fawning over the young human that he’s your boo?”

Even with his scales hiding it, the blush on Ricky’s face was readily apparent to everyone, “Uh…uhm…yeah?”

“Aw. How cute. And you, young man?”

Jon perked up, also looking nervous. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You better treat my nephew right. Or you will be a bulge in my forty-foot-long tail. Understand?”

“Of c…c…c…course, m…m…ma’am.”

“Good.”

After that the table grew quiet. Not awkwardly so, mind. Comfortingly so, as people finished their meals.

***

Maxim walked into the home where he’d had the Naga held captive. His hooves making loud clacks on the hardwood floor which was now blood-soaked and ruined. He walked to the room where the door to the cellar was located, seeing that it, too, was ruined. He clacked down the stairs and upon seeing the empty examining table upon which he’d trussed up the female Naga, He squealed in equine anger, “Those motherfucking hosers are going to fucking pay!”