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?"
