BY HOPE OF WATCH TOWER J

Beta read by Syx Maxwell

Heero looked at Zechs Marquise in shock. He had learned the man's secret when they had met years ago. After all, Power called to Power. And while Heero wasn't a lycanthrop, he wasn't totally human either.

"The Were Leopards have him?"

"Yes. And they intend to use and torture him until there is nothing of his spirit and strength left."

"Over my dead body," Heero growled.

Zechs could not quite suppers a shudder at the Power in those angry words. It was easy to see, if one could feel another's Power, why the Council feared Heero Yu.

Silent as shadows, the two moved through the night. They had one more person to see before they could go after their captured friend.

"She saved me when I was first infected," Zechs told Heero. "I would have bled to death from my wounds. She also has no love for the Leopards. They became her enemies long ago."

Heero nodded and they entered the small country house. A breath of Power washed over them and both froze at the soft voice.

"Don't move."

Heero felt the woman move behind them and a hand quickly searched him for weapons. Then the same was done to Zechs.

As she moved away form them, the woman asked, "What are you doing here with an Ormalen, Ulfric?"

Heero stiffened. "How do you know of my fathers people?" he demanded as he turned to face her.

"I've had encounters with them. Not the most pleasant Race in existence. At a guess, I'd say you're half human and can take an Ormalen form if you wish. Also you probably have their physical strength, speed, and healing rate."

Heero gave a small nod. As a half blood he would never be accepted by either race fully, but since he could pass for a human, he could hide what he was here.

Two years ago a vampire City Master had tried to make him an unwilling servant. In retaliation he had burned him using his Power. Four months later the Council had discovered his presence and tried to dispose of him. They had not realized the extent of his Power or even what he really was.

They would not make that mistake again.

As he thought this he carefully assessed the woman before him. She was petite with lightly tanned skin. Black hair came to just past her shoulders and burgundy bangs framed her face. Her eyes were a light aqua blue, and had slitted pupils. Her Power was evident, but Heero could not place what Race she hailed from.

That was disturbing. He had always been able to identify if a person was supernatural or not. And what kind of being they were. So why couldn't he do the same for her?

Trowa awoke to the searing pain of melted silver dripping onto his chest. His voice to hoarse to scream, a pained whimper was all he could manage. He had been raped over and over by the members of the Pard, beaten and tortured, branded and burned with iron and silver.

He prayed for death, to tired to fight.

He wondered if Duo and the others would miss him. He wondered if death would be as so many claimed, a paradise. Or if it would be oblivion. Dimly he regretted not telling Duo how he felt. But that feeling only lasted a moment before the pain once again became his world.

Heero cursed silently when they reached the Pard's strong hold. The place was crawling with sentries. The prusian eyed youth bowed his head and summoned forth an illusion of Mobile Dolls. To an observer, it would appear that the hideaway was under attack. Hopefully it would buy them the time needed.

Zechs and Heero shifted at the same time. Muscles that shouldn't have been there flowed and bones shifted. Where once had stood two young men now stood a tall black were-wolf and a humanoid creature in equal height.

The Ulfric gave Ormala-Heero an amused look. In this form he was nearly six feet tall, had long dark brown hair streaked with blues and greens, and two horns curled from his forehead, over the top of his head, to the back of his neck. The horns were delicate in apperince, thin and seemingly transparent.

Elongated and webbed ears extended from the sides of his head, and large bat-like wings spread from his back. Over all he had an appearance that gave testimony to the legends that called his fathers people the Dragon Lords of the Sea.

A breath of Power drew their attention to the young woman Zechs had insisted they bring along. Jeans became a mid-thigh skirt and sneakers became calf length boots. Her loose flannel shirt became an armored chest plate and short under tunic. Flowing delicate butterfly wings colored deep teal, sky blue, and purist lavender adorned her back.

Just as quickly as this change happened, a second took place. Fur sprouted over her body and the colorful wings darkened and changed into black raven wings. Her body changed into a large black cat like creature in chest armor and shin-guards. The skirt and boots had vanished as if they had never been.

Zechs raised a brow and growled, "Are you done with the theatrics, Lady Azrial?"

"Well, I couldn't go in out of combat form, now could I?"

Once inside the strong hold, they moved quickly and quietly. Most of the Pard were occupied with the illusion, but that wouldn't last. They needed to find Trowa and get him out of here. They moved deeper into the main building and finely, after a seemingly endless number of empty rooms, found the battered and torn pilot.

His back was a mass on half-healed flesh, blood sluggishly oozed from deep gashes along his sides and legs. Blood and semen dripped from his most private of openings. Heero felt his chest tighten in horror. There were burns on his chest that weren't healing, meaning they had been inflicted by extremely hot or melted silver.

"So you've come at last."

The three would be rescuers turned to the source of the amused voice to see the Alpha of the Leopards.

Drevan Harris was dressed in what could only be described as a Dominant's bondage gear. Black leather pants so tight they seemed to be painted on, with a chain belt over black thong lacing in the front. The legs were tucked into laced up high calf boots. His chest was bare save a tattoo of a dragon on his breast. A leather riding-crop, studded with tiny silver spikes was clutched in his left hand.

Zechs was the first to speak up. "You have taken what is mine. I gave This Were-Cougar my protection."

"It matters not a wit. He is mine, and you will all pay with you're lives for this intrusion." With a gesture, Harris brought out his enforcers.

Azrial stepped out of the shadows then, and all eyes fell on her. Covered in coarse black fur, ebon wings flexing slightly at her back, and an armored chest plate on her top, she was a sight to see.

"And who is this?" The woman at Harris' left asked. "Another one of your freakish allies?"

"My name is Azrial Nogomi. And you should have left this little Cat alone." That said, Azrial drew a crimson-bladed sword and attacked.

She swept forward in a blur of black, faster than the Leopards could react. She was mildly surprised and very pleased to see Ormala-Heero moving just as quickly, a blade of blue fire in his hand. She made a mental note to ask about THAT later. Everything she knew about the Ormalen stated that their Power was water elemental in nature.

While they kept the Leopards busy, Zechs freed Trowa and lifted him into his arms. The boy stirred briefly and gave a low whimper of pain before succumbing to unconsciousness once again. With the two shape-shifted warriors covering his back, the Ulfric carried the uni-banged youth to freedom.

Once clear of the den of sadism, Zechs handed his precious burden to his Geri (second in command) and turned back to the main building. His two friends came bounding out moments ahead of the Leopard King, and split up once clear of the building.

"Harris!" The blond man snarled. "I challenge you!"