27: Sapphire Converged

Shit, she was headed this way! Andrew ducked down quickly. Had she noticed him following her? Fuck, he thought he'd been pretty subtle about it, even if she did know she was being watched at the house. He slowly lifted his head, just high enough to see over the dashboard. Whew! She wasn't heading for his car; she'd turned and was going off behind the row of bushes ahead. Probably had to pee after all that excitement. Even from this distance he could see the pronounced sway her high heels gave to her walk; she certainly was sure-footed on such stilts in the loose gravel of the shoulder...

Hmm, she was carrying something in one hand. A jacket, maybe. Just before she disappeared behind the bushes she held up her hand and let the item unfurl. No, not a jacket. A long dress, maybe.

Andrew adjusted the fit of his jeans as he imagined her changing behind the bushes. If only he could sneak over and get a peek. No matter; she was plenty sexy no matter what she was wearing or not wearing. He'd get another look in a minute...

Angela struggled to squeeze herself into the dress. Had she gained weight? Or had the dress somehow shrunk? In the flickering headlights of passing cars, Angela remembered the dress as she had first made it -- daring but not indecent -- not as it had ended up the last time she'd worn it, with seams split to scandalous lengths.

She hadn't made this dress with Sapphire duty in mind. "I hope it doesn't cover too much." Despite its almost backless nature, dramatic cleavage, and high side slits, the hem did reach past her ankles, and would drag the ground were it not for her tall heels. Even so, she felt the wild grass tug at the hem as she moved. She remembered back to her night rescuing Jimmy from Dirk's jock friends -- who, she remembered, she'd just seen piled up like crash test dummies in the locker room, as much as she wanted to forget. She'd worn a long skirt that night too. But she figured that as long as she kept her legs clear -- not a problem with this dress' ridiculous side slits -- she'd be fine.

"Don't dawdle, girl, Josh isn't going to wait up there all night." She'd wasted precious time on vanity. No, not vanity -- confidence. Still, she had to get going. The Hunter wasn't going to wait for her. Fortunately Josh's house was only a few blocks away.

With a last look around, Sapphire crouched slightly, legs spread to clear the dress, and sprang skyward.

Almost five minutes passed. What was she doing back there? There was nothing on this side of the road for a half-mile in either direction but empty fields and concrete slabs. Six minutes. Okay, that's it. Andrew got out of the car, four-cell Maglite in hand, and tiptoed to the edge of the gravel. Once in the wild grass off the shoulder he picked up his pace. Swish, swish, swish, he moved further off the road into the empty field, beyond the dimmest spill of the streetlamp, looking ahead to the row of bushes. He didn't see movement. He turned toward the bushes now, picking up the pace, stumbling occasionally on the soft uneven ground. At ten yards, he raised his flashlight and clicked it on, frantically sweeping back and forth over the bushes.

Where the hell did she go?

He moved around the other side of the bushes and checked her car. No sign of her. He dropped to the ground to check under the car. Nope. Up and down the street. Nothing. Not even another car, moving or parked. The industrial district truly was deserted at night.

Back behind the bushes, flashlight scanning the empty field. Moving up and down the chain link fence that marked the other side of this group of huge empty lots. He could barely see it. There was no way she could have made it that far. Not in those heels. Not barefoot. Was she hiding in a hole or behind some bushes? What hole? What bushes? The lot to either side was solid concrete slab surrounded by asphalt moats; this lot was a sea of short wild grass with the occasional dandelion.

Fuck!

Back in his car, Agent Dean fired up the engine. The low rumble helped him think.

She's crafty - she gets around
She's crafty - she's always down
She's crafty - she's got a gripe
She's crafty - and she's just my type

Click! The song didn't.

Ring. "Hey, Andy. It's Chuck. What's up?"
Andrew slammed his forehead down on the steering wheel as he held the cell phone up to his ear. "You're never going to believe this," he said with monotone dread.
"What happened?"
"I lost her."
"What happened, you get separated by traffic?"
"No."
"She spotted you and you had to break off."
"No. At least I don't think so."
"So what happened?"
"She got pulled over by a cop. After he left, she went behind some bushes to change clothes. And then she disappeared."
Chuck couldn't contain his laughter. "Oh, dude, that's fucked up. What'd she do, jump a fence? Lose you in an alley?"
"I'm out in the old industrial section. There's nothing on this side of the street but empty lots."
"So what happened?"
"I *don't* *know* *what* *happened*. Quit asking that. She just fucking disappeared."
"People don't just disappear. Maybe she's hiding. Maybe she slipped past you somehow. Maybe-"
"She. Just. Fucking. Disappeared."
"Well, you did say I'd never believe it. Look, you better have a better explanation than that. What are you gonna tell the boss, she *flew* away?"

The cabbie was quiet; it made Josh nervous. His hand felt a newspaper on the seat next to him; he picked it up, angling it out the window to catch the light of passing streetlights. The cabbie flicked on the cab's reading lights unasked.

It was an old World News Weekly. He'd read it already. So had his dad. It had given them an idea. Twenty-four hours and a thousand bucks later they had themselves an adult website.

Josh read the headline out loud. "'AVENGING ANGEL STRIKES AGAIN! Cops Baffled - Can't Stop Heavenly Vigilante.' You heard about this?" he asked the cabbie.

"Yes. A fantastic tale."
Josh turned to the inside spread, holding up the full-page photo of the Avenging Angel kicking a thug's teeth. "She's hot, isn't she? I mean, you can't really see much in these pictures, but you can see enough to know she's hot."
"She does seem to have considerable presence, yes."

"You wanna see more pictures?" Silence. "Hey, would you like to see more pictures of the Avenging Angel? Because I got connections, yo. I know where you can download lots of pictures of this chick. And she's doin' a lot more than lettin' a guy kiss her foot, if you know what I mean. A *lot* more."

The cabbie's interest was piqued. "How did you come to get these photographs?"
"Well, I kinda know her. You could say I'm her official photographer."
"I would very much like to meet her."

Josh begged off broadly. "Well, I'm sorry I can't help you there. She's very serious about her privacy. Makes me blur out her face on all the pictures I take, and even changes her hairstyle and dyes her hair from one shoot to the next so people won't figure out who she is." So people won't figure out that the "genuine exclusive" photos of "Sapphire, the real Avenging Angel" are of several different girls, all paid models. "But she just can't help taking it all off and gettin' nasty in front of a camera. Hell, most of the time I have to stop takin' pictures and join her before we can finish the session."

The cabbie seemed *very* interested. He touched his chest again; he was a little weird, but that was probably a good thing in this business. Josh's dad had told him to talk up their new business to anyone who would listen.

"I got a sample picture with me. You wanna see it?" He didn't wait for a response, whipping open his wallet and pulling out a business card. On one side was a printed photograph -- one he'd surreptitiously taken of Angela the last time she'd been over, though her face was cut off just above the lips. It showed her wearing the sheer robe and matching panties, the bottom being cut off just below the crotch, perky round breasts plainly visible through the thin veil of fabric above a perfect-smooth abdomen. On the flip side the card read:

Real superheroines don't say no!
eXXXclusive photos
www.sapphireexposed.com

He offered the card to the cabbie. The asian driver reached over his shoulder and took the card slowly, his fingers lingering over Josh's hand just long enough to make him feel a little weird about the contact. A little bit queasy, even. But judging from the way the cabbie studied the card for several long moments between glances at the road, he definitely wasn't gay. Josh's greedy thoughts about the business this cabbie could send to his new pay porno site quickly extinguished any uneasiness he may have felt about the brief physical contact.

"We just started the site, so there's only a few teaser images up now, but I've got a couple hundred totally hot hardcore pictures that I'll be putting up, exclusive for charter members. Maybe we can work out a trade, a ride for a free month's membership, whaddya say?"

"I think we can come to an agreement."

Like taking candy from a baby...

She hadn't actively been Sapphire for so long a stretch before. She was being careful not to waste her energy, and she felt none of the telltale signs that she was in trouble, but still the uncertainty of her power's longevity combined with the mystery of her deadly opponent put her on edge. (In truth Sapphire was far from able to judge her energy level. Careful though she'd been, her sapphires were more than half gone, slowly draining with each passing minute and already beginning to feed back subtly-arousing energy, well-masked by her inexperience and nervousness.)

Sapphire shifted her weight from one leg to the other. The waiting was getting to her. Crouched on the roof of the house across the street from Josh's, she eyed the street suspiciously. The long halves of her dress spread out over the roof in front and behind. With each fidgety movement, a different part of the brittle sun-damaged fabric would briefly catch on a roof shingle. It was a subconscious reminder of her weakness and her bondage to the sapphires. She considered trying to rip the too-long skirt off at the knee, but knowing her luck she'd end up ripping the whole dress off somehow.

Might as well have a seat; there's no telling when he'll get here.

Not a second after she relented and took a careful seat on the rough shingles, a large sedan appeared from around the corner. Faded-yellow headlights preceded it into The Ramseys' driveway. Sapphire snapped to attention, barely noticing the momentary snag of the seat of her flimsy underwear on a shingle edge.

"Something must have happened to Josh's car," Sapphire reasoned. After a few long moments, Josh got out and gave a dramatic thumbs-up to the driver, holding it as the car backed out of the driveway. Now in the halo of a streetlamp, Sapphire noticed the sedan had several dents and scrapes all over, and a hand-lettered sign in the passenger-side corner of the front window, though she couldn't quite make out what it said from this distance. "Unlicensed taxi," the girl surmised. Why would Josh take a *gypsy* cab? Was he trying to hide something from his dad?

Sapphire relaxed a bit when the cab backed out of the driveway and drove off down the street. Back to waiting. She tugged at the front of the dress, trying to give her breasts a little breathing room; for a supposed synthetic silk, the fabric seemed awfully scratchy on her nipples...

Outwardly, Max remained calm; inside he bristled with excitement. Josh had felt the sapphires' touch; if he was indeed the girl's lover, Max's path had just become much easier. He would have a steady source of sapphire energy, and when the amulet allowed that he was ready to claim his prize, it would be right at hand.

But he would have to regain his self-control and learn to draw the energy slowly. He could not afford to damage the vessel. And he could not afford to raise Valerie's suspicions. He sensed that he was not ready to face her. His own instinct was to simply dispense with this boy as he had the others before him; surely that would get her attention and bring her to him. But these thoughts were accompanied by a chill. As powerful as she was, he could ill afford to meet her unprepared. He'd not yet found the limits of his amulet's abilities, but he suspected it would take more than a brute-force attack to subdue her. No, if she was to be his queen, it should not be by conflict. At least, not yet. The amulet would guide him.

As it had guided him earlier, staying the urge to suck the life out of Josh with one great breath. And as it guided him now.

Max slipped from the top of the fence to land quietly behind the house. Quiet steps took him to the back porch. He bowed his head in concentration; a moment later the glass door clicked unlocked and slid open. Josh stood there, the welcoming sweep of hand a marked contrast to the mildly befuddled look in his eyes.

"You could have just come in the front door with me; nobody's out in this neighborhood after dark."

Good, the boy was convinced this was about his fledgeling business. Max should not have doubted his influence on such a weak mind. "It is my nature to be discreet," he replied.

"Ya okay," Josh dismissed. "Come on back to my room. I'll get your account set up, and give you some business cards you can give your customers when you tell them about it."

"So when will you see Valerie next?"
"Who?"
"Sapphire."
"Which one?" Josh mistakenly assumed that his new friend and salesman had already figured out that there was more than one model; he'd probably ferried girls to the shoot Josh's dad had set up. "Oh, you mean Angela? Yeah, the girl on the card. She's a real hottie, ain't she? I was supposed to meet her tonight, actually, but she stood me up. Girls are just flaky like that, right? They spot a zit and they want to hide in their room for a week. I'll give her a call tomorrow and see when I can reschedule. She's a little skittish sometimes, so like I said you won't be able to meet her, but I'll give you a call as soon as I get some more photos."

Something seemed out of place. 'Which one?' If he had Valerie (by whatever name), why would he waste time with others? Which one? Was there more than one girl? That was impossible; the sapphires were unique, and no one would divide or share such power. But Josh *was* imbued with sapphire energy, and he clearly *did* know of her exploits. It seemed unlikely that such a weak mind would have control over the sapphire-wearer, yet he spoke so casually, almost dismissively, as if she and the stones were insignificant, just one of many silly girls he used for pleasure and profit.

Subtlety be damned, he cursed the amulet, I must know more.

Josh froze in mid-step; the cabbie had clapped a hand on his shoulder and immediately Josh felt an icy numbness there. He began to turn around, but slumped back against the wall of the hallway. "Ow! That hurts, man, cut it out."

The cabbie released his grip. "I am sorry; I do not know my own strength. Here, you do not look well. You should lie down."
"Yeah," Josh agreed dimly as he staggered down the hall and into his bedroom. He collapsed into his desk chair. "Was that some kind of kung-fu grip?" he said, starting to recover.
"In a manner of speaking, yes." The guy was starting to freak him out. He had a calm-yet-intense look. "Tell me what you know about 'Angela.'"

Josh sat, unable to move, as Max crossed the room. His eyes widened in fear as they followed the cabbie's hand reach out to him. His skin went cold as the hand grabbed him firmly by the side of the neck. His jaw went slack as a rush of unbidden memories flooded his consciousness.

Oh, sweet sapphires, come to me...

A dark street. Sexy young thing stumbles. Ulterior motive to a gallant act. The girl's bare skin hot against his. Rushed home. Union in the dark. Clothing ripped. Blinding climax.

Disorientation. Interruption. Another time. A girl. Angela. The same girl the other boy pined for. Old lusts renewed. Hesitant, unwilling. Undressed, redressed. A heroine fetish. This girl was weak; none of the strength Valerie so clearly possessed. None of the expected defiance or dominance.

Another time. A fat girl. Giggling. Drunk. Huge drooping mammaries. But her face became Angela. Her body became Angela -- slender, petite, smooth.

Max's heart grew darker. Another foolish boy obsessed with the same girl. Promiscuity had led to a chance encounter with the sapphires, but everything in this mind was clouded with sexual attachment to this Angela. What good was reading such a mind?

With a bellow of rage, Max reached into the young man's soul and ripped the life out of him.

As Josh's lifeless body slid off the side of the chair and thumped to the floor, Max heard a droning mechanical noise echo through the house. It had stopped by the time he got to the main room of the house. He paused, listening intently. A muffled impact, like a car door closing. Then the droning again. The garage door.

Max preferred not to waste any energy on disguising his presence; he slipped out the back door, sliding it shut just as he heard a man's voice. And a woman's.

Sapphire's waning attention barely noticed another car coming up the street. It had only been a few minutes since the gypsy cab had dropped off Josh, but in that time seven cars had gone by. She was surprised at how much traffic a supposedly quiet suburban street could get at this time of night. It wasn't until she heard the thumping music drifting through the night air and watched the fifth car closely that she realized there was some kind of party down the street. Josh would probably be there now if she hadn't lured him away. Indeed, he might still go; this worried her, because she couldn't protect him there without exposing herself, and she desperately wanted the element of surprise against her mysterious adversary.

It wasn't until the car slowed near Josh's house that Sapphire really took notice. Her heart beat faster for but a moment -- it was Josh's dad, Matt. The black Porsche Turbo looked like a muscle-bound cockroach, its polished body gleaming reflections of the street light. The Ramsey's garage door opened and swallowed the sports car quickly. Sapphire just saw Matt get out before the garage door closed again.

Well, unless Josh's dad can turn into an Asian assassin at will, I don't think he's a threat.

"So you're sure your wife won't mind?"
Matt smiled. "My wife's in Cleveland on business for three days. And she thinks I'm in Miami until tomorrow afternoon." He dropped three hundred dollar bills on the coffee table. She raised a haughty eyebrow. Well, she was certainly pricey considering the neighborhood she'd been in. Of course, to look at her now, she hardly looked like she'd come from the heart of the dirtbag district. She was as clean and well-groomed as any of the club chicks he picked up. She should be doing outcall at the airport hotels for businessmen like him, not hanging out in a slum alley where most feared to tread. No matter. It wasn't like he was doing it without a rubber, and he knew how to keep from getting rolled.

He dropped another four bills on the table. "For the night," he said with a grin. Fuck, she was worth it. Still a bargain, really, if she fucked half as hot as she looked. More than he might drop in wooing a club chick, but he wouldn't have to put up with any morning-after half-hearted blackmail bullshit, either.

So this was how they did it in the suburbs. Valerie looked around. No pictures on the walls. "Kids?" she asked.
"College," he said with a shit-eating grin.

That deadbeat son better not come back from that study camp early.

"Fifteen hundred and a ride to the airport day after tomorrow," the willowy vision in the tiny black dress offered. The vinyl squeaked as she put her hands on her hips. Take it or leave it.

She didn't need the money -- not with the still-thick roll she'd accumulated from her previous suitors -- but she could use a safe haven for a couple of days. It wasn't like he'd last more than fifteen minutes with her anyway, she reasoned. And if he did, she thought as she observed his hunky build and jock-like confidence, so much the better.

Damn, they always know your limit. Matt dropped the rest of his cash on the table.

Max struggled to contain his excitement as he peered through the window. The boy hadn't been lying. Not exactly. True, he didn't have Valerie on a string as Max had hoped. But his father did.

There, standing in the middle of the living room, a young woman squared off against Josh's father in some kind of negotiation.

It was Valerie. It had to be. Tall, slender, dark-haired, fair-skinned, angrily beautiful. With a ring of impossibly-bright sapphires around her neck.

Strangely, the amulet was silent and cool. Judging from its reaction to those that had tasted the sapphires, he would have expected it to be mad with activity. Perhaps it didn't react to the gemstones themselves, only to the energy they released through others. To the amulet, the sapphires themselves were the eye of the hurricane.

Still basking in the aura of energy the boy had bestowed upon him, Max licked his lips. He would wait until the eye passed and revel in the storm that followed.

Matt lay back on the couch, hands deftly unbuckling and unzipping his trousers. His lady of the evening gave him an admiring look when he unveiled his manhood. Naturally.

Looking every bit the predator, Valerie planted one knee to either side of her man's hips. Falling forward, she planted her hands under his armpits and bent down to bite the side of his neck. "Ow!" Matt laughed -- he had a live one!

Val propped herself up on one hand; the other snaked between her legs. Matt expected her to grab a hold of his pole and give it a good squeeze, but whatever she was grabbing, his dick was just waving about in empty air. Was she getting her own motor running? He heard a tearing sound, then another; he felt her jerk sideways. Her hand pressed something into his. Warm, wet cloth. Her panties. "A souvenir," she grinned. "You can buy me new ones later."

Before he could offer a witty reply, he felt something hot and wet touch the tip of his erection; he surged in response. Val moved around above him, capturing his cock in her folds again, then rocking her hips forward, pushing his flagpole toward vertical.

"Woah, hold on baby, don't you want to use protection?"
"I trust you," Val cooed. And with that, she dropped her hips, taking an inch of him.

And Matt's resistance dissolved. As did any rational thought. By the time his whore had taken all of him, his eyes had rolled back into his head. Her cunt muscles rippled up and down his shaft, milking him of his will.

Valerie's eyes flashed in triumph. It felt good to be on top again. Her sapphires burned brightly.

"Matthew Jason Ramsey, what in God's name are you doing?" Linda Ramsey stood in the doorway to the garage, shock having given way to jealous rage. She'd said it for effect; she knew perfectly well what they were doing. Or what they were working up to doing. And she wasn't having any of it in her house.

Matt's eyes bulged open. He looked up at Valerie in terror; Val's eyes were closed, her face a mask of the wolf who'd found her prey. She showed no signs of letting up. He squirmed underneath her, but she only gripped him tighter, almost painfully so. He began bucking up and down desperately trying to knock her off him, but her knees only dug into his sides more urgently.

Linda Ramsey couldn't believe her eyes; her husband had completely lost it. Here was this slut, little more than half her own age locked onto him like some kind of leech, grinding away like there was no tomorrow, and he wasn't doing anything to stop her.

The cuckolded woman leaped across the room, screaming like a banshee. She was ready, willing, and more than able to fight for her man. She drove her shoulder straight into the younger woman's torso, knocking her to the back of the couch and pulling her free of the stunned husband, who rolled to the floor and scrambled to get clear. By the time he turned to see what had happened, his wife had his mistress-of-the-moment in a chokehold.

But far from afraid, Valerie simply pulled the smaller woman forward, up onto her back. Surely the force would have crushed her windpipe, but there was no fear in her eyes, only anger. She struggled to stand as Linda yanked back with all her might again and again. Why wouldn't this bitch go down?

Then she was on her feet; Linda's shorter legs kicking madly in the air, striking the coffee table, the end table, then nothing as Valerie backed up, staggering under the elder woman's weight. Finally, the chokehold was working.

Or not. Valerie picked up speed, driving them both toward the far wall.

"Not the stereo!" Matt heard himself cry out.

Crash!
The chokehold weakened.
Crash!
The chokehold released.

Valerie turned to face her attacker. She looked down with a sneer as Mrs. Ramsey labored to reclaim the wind that had been knocked out of her. But the wife was undeterred. She straightened up, planted herself, and drove a ferocious kick in between the taller girl's legs with a "Ha-YAH!" But except for a half-step back, the girl seemed unaffected; she looked down curiously. Linda Ramsey drove a fist forward with all her might, striking Valerie square in the solar plexus; Matt swore he saw a blue spark at the point of impact. Valerie grabbed Linda's wrist on the recoil, twisting and lifting it cruelly. Linda's torso exposed, Val reached out and grabbed the shorter woman by the belt with her other hand, taking first one and then two steps back and to the right, long legs flexing, swinging her attacker around and past her. Linda went flying, coming to land on the sturdy coffee table and sliding off to a crumpled heap on the other side.

Valerie crossed the room in a single long-legged lunge, reaching down and grabbing her petite adversary by the back of her skirt. The well-made garments held up to the torture, hefting the small woman up like an oversized workout bag. Linda felt herself being dragged, face and chest planted in the carpet, burning with the friction; her arms flailed about uselessly, grabbing at but not holding the whore's ankle. Valerie pulled her into the foyer, banging her head along the tile toward the garage door, where she unceremoniously tossed the little woman out and slammed the door shut.

She looked back at Matt, more than ever a wild animal sizing up her next meal. But when she saw the fear in his face, and the shrinkage between his legs, she paused. "Nobody interrupts me when I'm working," she said finally.

"I- I'm sorry," Matt gulped, visibly shaken by the outcome of the brief tussle he'd just witnessed. He knew firsthand what a handful his petite wife could be -- ten years of self-defense training and workouts hardly made for a pushover -- but this admittedly tall but slender girl had taken the fiercest attack he'd ever seen from his wife or anyone else and brush it off like a minor annoyance. And the way she'd shoved the older woman up against the wall, dragged her across the room and literally thrown her out into the garage, all the while Linda's limbs pistoning about and *bouncing* off the younger woman like she was built from solid steel... no matter what he might have wanted two minutes ago, he wanted no part of this girl now. He just hoped he could convince her to leave before she decided to come after him.

"I think you need to go."

Valerie crossed the room toward him; curiously, he cringed, until he saw that she was only interested in picking up the money off the table. "I don't think so. Your wife is gone; I'm still here. You already paid me, and I need a place to stay."

"Linda will be back in a minute."
"Not if she knows what's good for her."
"Look, take the money. I'll call you a cab and get you a room at the Lazy 8. Really. You don't know my wife. She'll kill you."
Valerie raised an eyebrow. Not hardly. But things had already gone to shit and she didn't need another episode with the cops. Suburbanites called the cops at the drop of a hat. Hell, the wife was probably on her cell phone in the car calling the cops right now.
"Fine," she said. "But you tell your wife to steer clear of me. I don't need a scene out on the sidewalk, and I don't think she does either." With that she turned and strutted out the front door, leaving it swinging open.

Matt picked up the phone, speed-dialing the discreet cab service he used for sensitive situations.

Max jumped back in surprise when he felt a vibrating against his leg. He calmed down when he realized it was his cell phone. Of course, Matt would call him. He quickly retreated around the side of the house, speaking in a hushed tone.

"Taxi."
"Where's Alan?"
"He is on vacation. I am his cousin, Max."
"Okay, Max. I've got a special fare. I need you to take her to the Lazy 8 on First. Lemme give you the address here."
"No need; I already have it. You are one of Alan's favorite customers. Would you like me to wait around the corner?"
"Not this time; she's already waiting out front. Come on in and I'll give you your fee. How soon can you be here?"
"As luck would have it I am in the neighborhood. I will be there in three minutes."

Sapphire spotted a young woman leaving the Ramsey house. How long had she been there? Had she been there the whole time, waiting for Josh? No, she'd checked the house; unlikely the girl would have sat there in the dark. No, she must have come in with Josh's dad. Josh's mom kicked her to the curb, no doubt.

Well, at least if the Hunter doesn't show up, I got to witness some family drama.

Sapphire took a closer look at the young woman. She seemed tall and slender, unlike Mrs. Ramsey. That was probably what made Mr. Ramsey pick her out. Wow, her legs went on for days. The daringly-short vinyl dress certainly didn't hurt that impression. Sapphire felt a twinge of jealousy; she hated being short. At least her chest was bigger, or at least it seemed that way from here. The strapless vinyl did all it could to emphasize cleavage, but there just wasn't that much there. The girl had her hair pulled back into an austere ponytail. As she leaned against the tree in the front yard, one hand reached up to her neck to play with her necklace. A small choker of brightly twinkling blue stones...

Sapphire's heart skipped a beat. It was the Black Widow! What was she doing here? Was the Black Widow looking for her? Was she working with the Hunter?

The surprised superheroine felt her chest tighten; her breaths grew shallow and quick. She'd come looking for a fight, and now that it seemed imminent she found herself lacking resolve.

If she'd come out of the house so calmly, it was probably too late already. No doubt she'd done her damage. Sapphire hadn't made a single move, and already she'd failed. All she could do now was apprehend the violent criminal and get back the rest of her sapphires.

But just as she worked up the nerve to make a move, a car screeched around the corner; she ducked back down to get a read on this new player. The car pulled to a stop in front of the Ramsey house; it was the gypsy cab from before. Black Widow called out to the cab driver, but Sapphire couldn't quite make out what she'd said. The cab driver got out and walked toward the house; Black Widow turned and watched him, hands on her hips.

Sapphire took a good look at the cab driver. He wore all black. Her heart beat faster still. As he reached the corner of the house next to the garage, he turned and looked back at his fare. His face was dimly lit in the glow of the streetlamp, but Sapphire could make out a smile. He looked Chinese.

It was the Hunter.

Oh, no, they *were* working together!

There was no way she could take them both on at once. But she had to do something! She was a superheroine! If she didn't stop them, who would?

Come on, girl, think!

As Sapphire trembled with anxiety and indecisiveness atop the roof across the street, she watched as the Black Widow finally made her way to the cab, and the Hunter made his way inside. They both seemed so relaxed. Maybe they didn't expect her. Or they just didn't respect her abilities. Either way, it was her advantage.

Sapphire stood resolute. She was not going to stand idly by while these two terrorized her city and committed violence against its citizens. Sneaking around and sullying her good name on top of everything else. She didn't care if it was two against one; she was going to stop them. She was going to save the Ramseys. She was going to kick some butt. No, she was going to kick some ass.

Her legs flexed, and in an instant she was airborne. The two halves of the split skirt flapped like flags behind her as she descended to the Ramseys' roof, pulling up short and landing with the lightest touch. She turned around; it looked like Black Widow couldn't see the front door from her seat in the cab. Divide and conquer; that worked. Sapphire jumped down to the porch; the front door was open.

"She took all of my cash. I'll have to write you a check."
"Do not trouble yourself so. There is another way you can pay me. Tell me what you know of this girl."
"That's really none of your business."
"Tell me," Max commanded. Matt Ramsey backed up and fell/sat on the couch. Max towered over him, dropping his hand to the man's shoulder. The energy hit him with an unexpected kick; there wasn't much there, but it had a distinctly different -- spicier -- taste than he'd experienced from the son. He breathed the energy in more deeply. It wouldn't be long...

"Hands off, asshole!"

A woman's voice. The wife, surely. Max was unconcerned; he mentally pushed a wave of calm behind him as he drained the last of the sapphire energy from the palefaced husband.

Imagine Max's surprise when he felt himself shoved violently forward, up over the limp form and directly into the wall.

Max's instincts kicked in. Quickly gaining his bearings, he stepped from the couch to the sturdy coffee table, sweeping a leg around to fell his attacker as he spun around. But there was no one there. His eyes settled on a young woman crouched in the foyer, just inside the doorway, arms outstretched in front of her, palms open, as if she'd just shoved someone. And she had. A pair of sapphires hung down from the girl's wrists, shining too brightly to be mere refraction. Matching sapphires on each foot left no doubt as to her identity.

She was Sapphire.

There were two of them!

Max's heartbeat quickened. He was not ready. He would have to subvert her will quickly. He stared her down, his look intensifying as he mentally reached out to exert his will.

But she was unmoved.

Sapphire lowered one hand as she straightened up and took a step toward him, then another to the side; she needed to get Josh's dad out of the line of fire. "Get away from him, you sick Fuck!" she yelled. Her hand thrust forward quickly, invisible force striking the Hunter hard in the chest. He toppled backwards, slamming into a shelving unit and falling hard to the floor; one of the shelves collapsed, spilling fifty CDs over and around him.

Did his power have no effect on her? He tried again, opening up his mind to channel all the energy he could muster...

...still she raised her hand in anger, thrusting it toward him again...

...but he felt nothing.

She, on the other hand, clearly felt something. Something unexpected. Her eyes went wide with surprise, as if someone had touched her where she wasn't ready to be touched.

What happened? Did she miss? She had him on the ropes. Sapphire reached out, determined to deliver a knockout blow. Taking careful aim, she thrust her her open palm forward directly at him once again...

...and again, felt a surprising surge of sapphire energy feed back through her. Her eyelids fluttered at the sensation. It was not unlike the feeling she got at the end of a long patrol. It was not unlike... weakness. It was not unlike... pleasure.

Sapphire staggered back a step; was he doing this? Or had her sapphires simply run out of energy? She couldn't let him know her strength had faltered. She did her best to strike a superheroine power pose, feet shoulder-width apart, hands on her hips, butt thrust back, chest thrust forward. "Give it up," she bluffed. "You're finished."

But the Hunter smelled her weakness. And as he got to his feet, clearing himself of musical debris, he saw her weakness. The way her ankles wiggled ever so slightly as she tried to keep her balance atop the strapless skyscraper-high heels.

He took a step forward.

"I'm warning you."
The way her skin was flushed.

"Come along quietly, or I'll have to get rough."
The way her hands trembled.

"You can't defeat me. I'm Sapphire."
The way her nipples poked at the tissue-thin silkiness of her dress.

"Don't come any closer."
The way her voice quivered.

"Don't- Oh!"
The way her long eyelashes fluttered over eyes half-lidded with unwelcome lust.

With each weakening force-blast she attempted to throw, her body surged with rising sexual energy. She couldn't stop him. She couldn't stop herself. Her sapphires had turned on her.

Sapphire took an unsteady step back, then another, falling against the corner next to the open front door. She felt dizzy, warm; the sudden flames of lust engulfed her body and fought with her fear for control of her mind. She lifted a hand weakly in defense as her feet slid forward along the tile floor. Sapphire tried weakly to keep her feet, but only succeeded in catching the front of her dress on a spike heel; she vaguely heard it tear as her body continued sliding down the wall.

Sapphire felt a familiar sweet warm weakness wash over her, drowning her in a flash flood of uncontrolled feeling. But this wasn't a fantasy -- this was real. The man now standing only feet from her -- the Hunter -- would be able to do anything he wanted with her. To her. And as her mind thrashed in panic trying to keep reason above raging hormones, she knew she would welcome it.

Max smiled. The amulet had brought him to the sapphires. She -- and the world -- was his for the taking.

Linda Ramsey burst in from the garage, screaming. "I thought my husband told you to get the fuck out of my house, bitch!" Her face slackened in confusion as she found herself staring at a completely different scantily-clad girl, quivering as she lay crumped on the floor. Linda looked back toward her husband to find yet another stranger in her house -- a dark-dressed Chinese man, looking surprised and angry at the interruption.

"Freeze!" she yelled, pointing the gun at his chest.
"Be still," he said, his tone barely above a whisper. His hand reached out to her in a "quiet down" motion.

Matt watched in horror as his wife complied, her hands falling limply to her sides. The gun fell from her grip and clattered on the tile floor. Matt started to get up, still dizzy from whatever the cabbie had used on him, but the mysterious man simply turned and glared; Matt collapsed back to the couch, unconscious.

But Max's attention had been diverted. And with his focus elsewhere, Sapphire stirred.

Sapphire felt her hands working their way up her torso to her heaving chest. Why hadn't he taken her yet? What was he waiting for? She needed release... No, she needed to fight. This wasn't right. She didn't know why her sapphires had turned on her so quickly and so forcefully, but she wasn't just a puppet. She was a superheroine. The warm tides of sexual heat receded ever so slightly, bringing her back to a foggy approximation of reality. She forced herself up to her knees, one hand on the floor to steady her. Her firm breasts swung slightly like bound pendulums as she looked up at the room around her. Mrs. Ramsey stood, but only barely, wavering back and forth, body slack and without will to direct it. Max was in the middle of the room, looking over his shoulder at the fallen Mr. Ramsey. He was turning back to face her...

Sapphire raised her body up, leaning back on her haunches, and lifted both arms. The Hunter had no time to react. She blasted him in the chest with everything she had; his face lit with surprise that his foe had something left, he soared backward, legs catching the coffee table, back slamming against the couch, head snapping back over the top.

Exhausted, Sapphire fell forward, barely catching herself with her hands. Her body abuzz with unsatisfied sexual tension but without the physical reserves left to relieve it, she crawled toward the collapsed Mrs. Ramsey. She had to see if the woman was still alive. She had to know she'd done some good.

It seemed to take forever to reach the woman, though she was only a few feet away. She was unconscious, but breathing gently. She heard a stirring across the room; perhaps Mr. Ramsey was also still alive. She looked up...

...to see Max getting to his feet, albeit slowly and stiffly. He held his hand to his chest, a look of agony on his face. His breath was raspy and strained. Clearly she'd hurt him, but he just wouldn't stay down.

And with each unsteady footfall toward her, she felt her last remaining strength slipping away. She reached an arm out in desperate hope of knocking him off his feet, but her attempt to use the Sapphire force only made her shudder. Her vision went gray for a moment; she couldn't do that again. She looked pleadingly at the sapphire strapped to her wrist; it was uncharacteristically dark and lifeless. She collapsed to the floor, defeated.

She heard his footstep on the tile.

She felt something cold and metallic under her outstretched hand. Instinctively, her fingers gripped it. With the last ounce of her will, Angela fought back the urges that threatened to consume her even now, and focused on the thing in her hand. It was a gun. Linda's gun. A heavy gun. A big gun. With great effort, she rolled her arm to the side, lifting the gleaming semiautomatic to the vertical, and slid it sideways to point it at her foe.

"You won't use that," the Hunter wheezed dismissively. His eyes flashed a wicked brightness, as if he were attempting to will her to put it down, or at least push her body over the edge into orgasmic unconsciousness.

Maybe he could turn her power against her, but she bet he wasn't bulletproof.

She'd never used a gun, but she was pretty sure she knew how they worked. Her finger squeezed.

And there was a deafening explosion.

Max stopped suddenly. There was a fire burning in his leg. The fire turned cold. And he suddenly felt a weakness, not physical, but elemental. The amulet fell silent.

Angela's arm felt as if an elephant had grabbed it with his trunk and tried to rip it off. But somehow she held on, bringing the gun to bear on the Hunter once more.

He took a half-step toward her. She rolled onto her side, raising the gun with both hands now. Her chest heaved with panting breaths, but her eyes were clear, and staring right down the gunsight at his.

Max stared down at the prone girl, who stared back at him with cold determination. Whatever he'd been able to do to her before, he had nothing left. She may be down, weakened, even powerless. But she still held a gun. And he still bled.

Max backed away stiffly, a hand pressing his gunshot wound through the searing pain. Sapphire tracked him with the gun as she got to her knees, then to her feet, hands trembling with the effort, but eyes burning a hate that guaranteed she would not miss.

The door to the back room was just a step away. Max lunged for it, half-expecting another ear-ringing explosion. Not waiting to hear one, he hobbled as quickly as he could out the back door.

Valerie jumped; that sounded like a gunshot. Why did chaos have to follow her wherever she went? Her hand went reflexively to the choker around her neck; it was a good thing she'd found the sapphires. Then again, it was right about the time she'd found them that all hell started to break loose. Maybe they were more bad luck than badass.

Regardless, she wasn't going to hang around and wait for the cops to show up. She was still a wanted woman. She piled out of the back of the cab and slid behind the wheel. It had been a long time since she'd driven. Where was the brake release? Where was the shifter? The cab had a bench seat; her right hand found neither of the things she knew she needed to get rolling. She started looking around the steering column; this must be the shifter. So where was the brake?

The cabbie hobbled toward the car; he was holding his leg.

"Did you get shot?"
"Yes."
"Oh, shit. What happened? Was it the wife?"
The cabbie got in the back seat. "No. Someone who means to kill us both."
Valerie bristled at the suggestion. One foot was already out the door. "We'll see about that." But already she heard a siren in the distance. A neighbor must have called the cops when they heard the shot, she reasoned. I guess they don't get much of that in these parts.

Val got back in the car; she didn't need another incident -- it was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid.
"Let's go get you fixed up. You have a place?"
"Yes. Do you know where the old pasta factory is?"
Val grimaced. It was just blocks from the run-down motel where she'd spent the past week.

Once more into the breach...

Angela slowly made her way out the front door, each step more sure than the last. The heavy gun was still firmly in her grasp. Her strength was returning, and her gems glowed once more, but she still wasn't taking any chances. Indeed, that she felt the warmth of her sapphires again was an ominous sign. She hadn't simply run herself out of juice. The Hunter had messed with her powers somehow. Short-circuited her. The thought made her shiver.

But she was still a heroine, and weakness or not, she wasn't going to let him get away with this. Or Her. The cab was gone by the time she got to the front yard, but not the memory of the Black Widow, minutes ago standing feet from where Sapphire stood now.

The flickering need of the sapphires still touched at her sensitive spots; though her energy had returned, her focus was fading. She didn't have much time. She had to get home to... recover. And wherever her two foes had gone, she knew she couldn't just wait around until they came for her. She would have to take the fight to them. It was up to her to stop them.

The wind whipped at the exhausted heroine's costume as she took to the sky, seconds before the police cruiser arrived.