Stone sat quietly in his rented house. He was seated in the floor in his bedroom. He sat in the fudoza, the "immovable seat" posture, with his legs folded underneath him. He had long since delved within himself, acutely unaware of anything, his spirit, mind, and body centralized. In this state, the mushi-no-in, the "mind of no mind", he was aware of everything, and he was aware of nothing.
His report had been formatted and uploaded the secure server several hours ago. From there, his superiors would read it and then file it among the thousands of others.
Stone belonged to a special organization. Composed of members of several world governments, the organization oversaw operatives whose main purpose was the destruction of vampires. This super-secret organization had no name. It was simply referred to as "the organization". The operatives of the organization were highly trained in the martial arts, and in techniques of espionage, computer sciences, biology, and history. There were very few of these operatives, and they almost always worked alone.
A sound outside the house brought Michael from his meditation. He focused his hearing on it, straining to hear beyond the walls. When he heard nothing, he channeled his ki outward. He felt the presence of one of them. A vampire. Here.
He was standing inside the den in an instant, the sheathed katana sword clutched in his left hand. He was staring out the glass sliding door, looking beyond the patio to the pool. A soft mist hung low over the heated water. It swirled and ebbed, like the tide of the sea.
He saw her, appearing almost magically before his eyes. His rational brain noted that she had simply moved with supernatural speed from where ever she had hid. Stone was not afraid.
She was young. Blonde hair. Gray blue eyes. She was beautiful. She stared at him, through the glass, unmoving. Her crimson red lips opened slightly, and stone saw the glimmer of her fangs.
Had she tracked him? Did she know his identity, and perhaps the identity of other hunters as well? Stone questioned the safety of his next move even as he made it. He opened the sliding door, moving silently onto the patio. He was clad only in a pair of cotton shorts. A thin sheen of perspiration enhanced his well-muscled frame as he came to a stop within ten feet of her.
He black leather jacket was open partially at the top. Stone figured she had on nothing underneath. Her jeans fit her tightly, and Stone could make out the swell of her pubic mound beneath them. He knew that the vampire exuded eroticism. It was one of their methods of catching prey. His conditioning would not allow him to be taken in by that. It did, however, cause him to take notice.
Lena saw that he was looking at her. She liked it. She loved the power that she had over human men. But, she remembered her promise to her mistress. Humans were only a source of needed blood. She had promised to never kill one unless there was no other choice.
Michael Stone waited for her to attack. When she spoke, instead, it startled him.
"She said you were handsome," Lena said, her voice soft and seductive. "She was right."
Stone gripped the sheath of the sword near the top. His thumb rested against the tsuba, ready to push the katana into action in an instant. Lena saw the slight movement of his hand. She raised her hand slowly. "I come in peace," she said, "and with an invitation."
Stone did not relax. But curiosity did peek through his iron set face. "What kind of invitation?"
"My mistress wishes to meet with you," Lena said, as if it should have been obvious. "She wants to speak with you about those you have killed."
Could it be? Stone wondered. He knew of the stories of vampires who aspired to co-exist with humans. He had heard tales of them as being revolted by the utter disregard that some of their kind had for life, human or otherwise. In the hundreds that he had killed, he had never met one. Stone decided that it may be worth the while to accept the offered invitation. If it turned out to be a trap, then he would kill them all. It was that simple.
"Tell your mistress that I accept," Stone said without emotion. He saw Lena smile. In an instant, she was gone, then she was standing in front of him. His heightened reflexes had unsheathed the katana, and the blade was resting against her throat.
"Forgive me," she said. "I may not get a chance alone with you again." She looked at him with fear in her eyes. Stone detected something else. A need. A wanting. It was not the blood lust that he had seen so many times before.
Lena stepped towards him. The blade of the katana moved with her, Stone keeping it against her throat yet allowing her to approach him. She put her hands flat against his chest, and looking into his eyes, stepped to her tip-toes and kissed him.
Stone felt her lips press against his, lightly at first, then with increasing pressure. He felt her lips open. His lips opened as well, automatically allowing her tongue inside his mouth. Her tongue caressed his, and his caressed hers. The sheath slid from his left hand, and although he relaxed a little, the blade still pressed lightly against her throat.
Lena broke the kiss. She glanced quickly into his eyes, and seeing what she needed to know, slowly knelt in front of him. Stone's right hand moved down with her, the blade now resting against the side of her neck.
