Michael Stone watched from the rafters of the old warehouse. He had worked his way up into the dank and dusty old beams carefully and quietly. It had taken precious time. Time that he knew he might not have had.
There was just enough light filtering in through the clouded window panes of the warehouse's old roll-up door for him to see. The scene below him was eerie enough without the criss-cross pattern of shadows on the floor. Stone slowed his breathing even further than he already had. He slowed his heartbeat down to what should have been dangerous. He relaxed, centering himself, and he waited.
Below him, sprawled onto the damp and dusty floor, was a young woman. She was about 18, Michael figured. She was pretty, but not beautiful. Plain was the descriptive word, with her brown hair pulled into a ponytail. She was dressed in a short vinyl skirt and a one-strapped tank top. Stone noticed that the half-shirt had been pulled low, revealing a bare left breast. The skin there was smooth and creamy, her areola darker, almost brown. The nipple was erect from the slightly cool, damp atmosphere inside the warehouse.
Standing over the girl was Michael's target. It looked like a man, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a brown sweater. The hair was dark and long. But, Michael knew that this was no man. Perhaps it once had been. Now, it was a vampire.
The vampire kneeled down and reached for the woman's head. As the creature cradled her head in his hands, Stone eased the katana sword from its carry position across his back. He clutched it tightly in his left hand, holding the sheath near its top. His highly trained senses strained outward, feeling the vampire's mind with his own.
The vampire smiled down at the sleeping girl. He tilted her head, exposing her neck. He watched the visible, smooth line of her jugular vein. As he did, the two extra canine teeth slid from their openings in his upper gum. He opened his mouth wide, and began to lower his head. A rat scurried across the floor somewhere behind him.
