For the hundredth time, Lyell glanced at the clock and then peered out the window, her tail lashing behind her. Jeremy was late! Well, not late. He was due at seven-thirty, and though it was only a quarter after the hour, Lyell was too excited to wait.

She left the window and began to pace the floor of the apartment, much like her wild kin tended to do when caged. This was to be her first "real" date with Jeremy since that unforgettable morning after the party, nearly two weeks before. For the occasion, she'd chosen to wear her best French- made dress, one that showed off much more fur than her father would have considered appropriate.

Jeremy had wanted so much to spend an evening with her again, but he'd felt it proper that he whould wine and dine his lady-friend first. Englishmen and their manners! Still, Lyell was thrilled to have a beau with such a Chivalrous air -- and she was impressed that he retained it, after the some- what less-than-ladylike way she'd made his aquaintance.

A commotion outside brought her flying to the window. There were no streetlights, but her eyes easily pierced the darkness to see a gang of young men cavorting about on the sidewalk. They seemed to be roughhousing. Then, one of their number -- much more well-dressed than the others -- tried to break away from the fray and was tackled. Fists flew, and Lyell saw the flash of a knife blade.

"Jeremy!"

An instant later she was out the door and sprinting toward the scene. Her angry roar caught the gang's attention, and they hastily piled into a black van parked close by. Lyell caught up just as it screeched off into the night; her claws left four deep gouges in its rear door.

The crumpled figure on the sidewalk moaned and stirred. Lyell bounded toward him, tears running down her muzzle. "Jeremy? Jeremy!"

He rolled over with her help and sat up. Blood trickled from his nose and lip. Lyell dropped her gaze from his battered face to the front of his coat, and screeched in horror when she saw the torn slit the knife had made as it entered. She pressed her hand to the wound; strangely, she felt no wetness, and there was a puzzling bulk beneath the fabric.

Jeremy reached up feebly and lifted her hand from his chest. Groping inside his coat, he withdrew from his breast pocket a little stuffed lion with button eyes. Shredded foam spilled out from a long slit in its tummy. A triangular peak near its tail marked the blade's furthest penetration.

"I brought you a present," he wheezed, managing a smile.

Lyell carried him into her apartment and laid him down on the cough, then reached for the telephone.

"Don't," he whispered.

"I'm calling the police."

"No."

Lyell paused, and slowly put the phone down. "Why not?"

Jeremy swallowed. "That's what started this bloody mess in the first place. I saw one of their juniors stealing groceries a way's back, and fingered him to the police. This here was just their way of letting me know that was naughty."

"Who are they?" She knelt beside him and began licking tenderly at the cuts on his face, which made him smile and relax.

"I should get myself beaten up more often." He closed his eyes. "They're the Kutunu. Ever heard of them?"

"No," she answered between licks.

"Street-trash. It's a gang of about thirty or so delinquents who've been a fixture around here long as anyone can remember. They've got their own private fortress out in Edwardston -- been there for years, and the cops haven't pulled them in yet, spite of all the mischief they get themselves into." He rubbed painfully at his side. "And that's why. Anyone points the finger, and they'll get even. Nobody's willing to speak out; the cops can't bring'em in, and they know it."

"But this was attempted murder! The police HAVE to do something."

"Like what? Arrest the four or five who tried to stick me? Then twenty-five more will come here hunting for you. I won't have that." He saw her scowl. "No, Lyell. Just leave it go."

Lyell sat silently licking at his wounds for a long time, then stood up. "Stay here," she said darkly.

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Trust me."

"Lyell, don't you dare!"

"What do you know about Uganda's invasion of Kenya last year?"

He stopped, thrown by the abrupt change in subject. "I didn't know there was one."

"Exactly. Trust me." Her savage grin revealed inch-long fangs, and she was out the door before Jeremy could say another word.

Edwardston was the name of a collection of derelict houses that stood in the shadow of a long-abandoned mill. Forsaken by its inhabitants when the mill closed, it had proven to be an ideal headquarters for the Kutunu, who had claimed the town as their own since before any of the present members could recall. Edwardston lay seven miles outside the city -- seven miles that Lyell covered in less than an hour, gliding tirelessly along the lonely road and leaping with feline grace into the shadows whenever the odd vehicle would pass.

The black hulk of the mill stood out against the night sky, and as she crept closer, she could see lights burning in some of the windows, and could hear raucous laughter and rock music. Outside was a black cargo van, and Lyell smiled when her sharp eyes picked out a row of claw marks on its rear door. She tilted her head, listening and sniffing the air. The outlying houses were empty; everyone was inside the mill building itself. That was good.

Lyell smiled and slipped out of her clothing. It was her favorite dress, after all, and she didn't want to destroy it when she grew.

Inside the mill, the Kutunu had the music turned up loud, and the stolen cases of American whiskey were half empty. Ngobi, the gang's leader, luxuriated on the mountain of pillows in the middle of the floor which served as his throne. Tossing back another shot, he glanced over at three of his boys getting ready to jump a bitch they'd picked up on the way back from town. She'd come along just after they'd offed the Limey who'd put the heat on them. Ah, now THERE was a job well done. He turned around and gave a high salute to the five who'd gone with him. Yet another lesson for the good people of Nairobi: the dead Englishman would teach them to keep their mouths shut.

N'gobi rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, and then cried out in surprise as it abruptly exploded in on him. Huge chunks of wreckage rained down on all sides, and for a brief instant he saw the underside of a gigantic paw hurtling toward him before he was crushed like an insect.

All eyes turned toward the enormous paw as it rose once again, trailing red strings that had once been the Kutunu leader, and then pandemonium broke out. Young men scurried blindly, tripping over themselves and colliding with each other in whiskey-fogged panic. The three who had descended upon the unfortunate female captive climbed over one another to escape as their intended victim crawled into a corner to hide.

Pants about their ankles, the would-be rapists struggled and finally fell in a heap on the concrete floor, and the nightmarish foot swung over them. They screamed in horror as they saw the bloody mess than had been their leader clinging to its bottom, and then they, too, were pressed under it, the weight increasing slowly, cruelly. Their cries gradually rose in pitch as their bodies were compressed, and then with a crunch of bones the paw settled fully onto the concrete.

The huge foot rose once more and came down, dripping, on another fleeing Kutunu. Less impaired than his fellows, he dove to the ground and rolled for the open, and very nearly escaped. He was caught on his back beneath one toe as it crashed down; desperately, he wriggled and kicked his legs and pounded at it with his fists, until a claw sprang out from the fur and speared him neatly through the chest. He gasped and twitched as the mighty foot rose once more, carrying him high into the air. The ride was mercifully brief as, seconds later, the claw slipped back into its housing and allowed him to fall to his death.

Towering high above the roof, the paw's owner took time out to tear open the wall next to the cowering young captive-woman. "Go home," Lyell growled, "and forget you saw any of this." She then turned her attention back to the mill building, which she began to smash heavily with her fists. The roof shattered and caved in, splintering as it crashed down onto the fleeing gang. Lyell roared, ripping at the walls and reducing the stout old building to rubble in a manner of seconds as she vented her fury upon it. As her anger flowed, so did her lust, as it had when she had wiped out the pride of Uganda's military. The scent of blood and the shrieks of fear from below, together with the sheer ecstacy of destruction, lit a familiar fire in her loins; she licked her lips as she scanned the devastation around her.

Her searching eyes fell upon two small bodies squirming out of the wreckage. Purring in anticipation, she reached down for them. They did not run far before her fingers snatched them up, lifting them and stuffing them, screaming, into the warm folds between her legs. Lyell snarled in pleasure as she felt them kicking and flailing within her. With one hand cupped to her breast, she started stamping her feet wildly, pummelling the wreckage into smaller and smaller pieces, seeking to crush anything that might still be alive beneath it.

It was not long before the frantic twitching died away within her. The two bodies were a pleasant bulk as they shifted with her movements though, and she decided to leave them in there a little while longer.

Lyell stood quietly, surveying the destruction at her feet, and again she cocked her head and listened. Her ears caught the sound of running footsteps, those of the young woman as she reached the road. And then there were other sounds, closer: whimpers of fear, pounding heartbeats, a dispairing moan. Smiling, she purred louder and dropped to her hands and knees, and began to sniff along the ground, letting her nose guide her to her prey.

She heard a shallow panting within a small utility shed, which she smashed idly beneath her knee as she crawled by. Another sound caught her attention; to her surprise, one of her intended prey had climbed the ladder of an old storage tank, and was clinging to its cap, directly at her eye-level as she approached. She sniffed at him thoughtfully, smelling his fear, watching amusedly as he curled into a terrified ball, and then casually licked him from his perch. She enjoyed rolling him around in her mouth for a moment before chewing him up and swallowing him.

The sound of an engine being started reached her ears, and she jumped to her feet, barely hearing the crunch of an overlooked gang member who had tried to sneak past her. In the darkness she could see a dozen or more of the frantic young men piling into the van. Oh no, she said to herself, not this time! With an angry roar she strode toward them, bearing down on them just as the van spun about and headed for the road.

Lyell took up the chase, and rapidly closed the gap as the van wove desperately in front of her. The driver had his foot to the floor, and though he could not see the rampaging giantess, he could feel the shock of her footfalls. It seemed to him that they were far away, and thus he was surprised when a massive paw suddenly descended and blocked the driveway. Cursing, he swerved hard to avoid it. He felt a jolt, and saw the ground seem to drop away. With the screams of his frightened comrades ringing in his ears from the cargo bay, he clawed at the door and threw it open.

The ground was a long way away, and he had blacked out long before he hit.

Lyell snarled and clamped a thumb over the rear doors. "Damn! Missed one." She stepped on the body and contemptuously ground it to jelly. "One less for my stomach."

The rear doors of the van easily came off when she raked them with her claw this time. Licking her lips, she peered in at the squirming tangle of humanity, all trying to press themselves harder against the back wall of the cargo bay and gibbering in terror as they looked up at her. Lyell clutched the van tightly in both hands and lifted it to her mouth; slowly she tilted her head back, tilting the van as well until it stood nearly vertically over her mouth. She felt the little soft bodies striking her tongue, and swallowed them without chewing, enjoying their struggles as they were dragged down her throat. The screams from within the van gradually grew fewer, until they had all but disappeared. Frowning, she lowered the van from her lips and peered inside. One young man remained, his arms and legs splayed out and pressing against the sidewalls of the cargo bay. She tried shaking the van, but he held on tenaciously.

"Impressive." She bent down and set the van upright on the ground, then stood back up. "Come out," she commanded. Nothing happened, and she growled. "Come OUT!" Still nothing. She gave the van a little kick with her toe. "Come out, or I'll stomp that soda can flat."

There was a flash as a tiny body darted out of the battered vehicle. Lyell caught it nimbly between two toes, and suddenly felt a sting. Looking down, she saw the young man's hand still holding the handle of a knife that he had plunged into her toe. She glowered, wondering where she might have seen that knife before. "That was a mistake," she snarled. "I was actually going to let you go."

The little man squealed and began to thrash madly, but Lyell squeezed him tightly as she lifted her foot, and reached down to pluck him from between her toes. She lifted him to her chest and pushed him scornfully into the crevasse between her furry breasts. "The white man you tried to kill tonight was my boyfriend," she rumbled. She placed her hands on her breasts and pushed them gently together, clamping the pleading man between them in a warm embrace. "He likes it when I do this to him..."

The man peered up at her and struggled to breathe, his lungs com- pressed by the furry mountains that pushed in on him. "I'm s-sorry!" he shouted in Bantu. "Please, don't kill me!"

Lyell sneered. "Sorry? You ruined our date." She pressed harder, watching him gasp and fight for air. "And since I can't play with him now, you'll have to do."

"Please! Let me go! I wo--*" His words were choked off as Lyell squeezed him tighter. Unable now to breathe, he thrust out his tongue and squirmed violently, pounding in desperation on the flesh that sur- rounded him. Just as his world began to go dark, Lyell released him and let him drop into her palm. Slowly she closed her fingers around him, encasing him completely in her fist.

"I watched you try to kill a man that I'm in love with," she said, beginning to squeeze. She laughed at the wiggling she felt against her palm. "Don't bother begging ME for mercy. Right now I'm having too much fun making you suffer." She gripped harder and harder, silencing his muffled cries as his body gave way with a wet snap.

Lyell realized she was panting. With a final disdainful snarl she flung the broken body aside and listened, her ears swivelling, straining to catch the slightest telltale sound. But none was heard. There was not a single person left alive in Edwardston.

Jeremy was waiting by the door when she returned, and took her in his arms. "Dear God....I was so worried! Where did you go?"

Lyell did not answer him. She simply tossed the knife that she was holding onto the endtable. It landed with a clatter next to the little stuffed lion. Jeremy stared at it, trembling a little, and turned his gaze back to Lyell. "You...ah...took care of them, did you?"

She nodded, and smiled a little.

"Are you all right?"

Lyell stepped away and sat down on the couch. "I wonder what you must think of me."

"Hm? You think I'm mad at you?"

"I don't know." She wiped at her eyes. "I just killed a very large number of people."

"They had it coming, though."

"Doesn't that make you wary of me, though? Even a little?"

Jeremy smiled and sat beside her. "Wary of an avenging angel? I should hope not." He laid his hand on her forehead and stroked back slowly, smoothing back her ears. "I'd have done the same for you -- that is, if I had the power you have."

She looked into his eyes, and then leaned forward and delicately pressed her muzzle to his lips. A soft purr rumbled in her throat as she felt his arms close around her, and she relaxed against him.

"I love you, Lyell," he whispered. Then he sighed. "Well...looks like our date is going to be postponed, eh?"

Lyell purred and ran her hand along his leg. "Well...the formal part, at least."

"Tsk, my dear! It wouldn't be proper for a gentleman to take a lady to bed without so much as buying her dinner first."

She licked at her muzzle and smiled, showing all of her teeth. "I've already HAD dinner, thank you."

Jeremy chuckled and stroked her cheek. "Now now, I wouldn't want you to think me a cad." He stood up and turned around. "So, shall we say next Friday? I think I can have the hole in my suit mended before then. Maybe a little earlier in the evening, say six-YOW!" He shouted suddenly in surprise as he felt her teeth close tightly on the back of his shirt collar. His feet kicked feebly as they were lifted several inches off the floor. With a sigh of resignation -- and a broad smile -- he relaxed and let his body dangle limply as the lioness dragged him off into the darkened bedroom.