He could smell the scent of Lenas sex on him. Although it was the sweet and musky scent of an aroused woman, the logical part of him knew it was really that of a vampire. Stone had to shake his head, smiling slightly. It was some good pussy, no matter what she was. He lay down in his bed and began to count backwards from one hundred. He was asleep before he reached ninety.

I stepped onto the verandah quietly. I did not wish to disturb my lord Amenhotep. He had removed the concerns of his status, and was clothed in a simple linen kilt, much the same as mine. His only adornment was a bracelet that circled his left arm, a golden figure of the lion-headed goddess Sekhmet upon it. He noticed my approach, however, and as he bound a hunting falcon to his wrist, he turned to me. I bowed deeply.

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.

Japan was much the way Michael Stone remembered it. He had spent a great part of his youth here. He looked at the buildings as the taxi he was in drove through the streets of Tokyo. Not much had changed. The neon signs still glared above, while the streets and sidewalks were covered in people of all races. That would make hunting here harder, he knew. The taxi wound its way up the roads from the city.

He held his aluminum Maglite in his hand as he looked into the black water of the swamp. One of his deputies was beside him, holding a large rechargeable spotlight. He shined it ahead of them, as another deputy maneuvered through the cypress knees using the trolling motor. "Whoa," Barker said. He thought he saw something. "Come right again." The deputy turned the boat sideways, the small motor churning the black water

"It looks as if the Germans information has paid off at last," McKay said as he looked up from his laptop. "What have you found?" Nera asked. She stepped behind him, cradling his head against her breasts. "He booked a flight," McKay answered. "I dont know from where, but using the alias names Shultz gave us, I found an arrival flight. At Heathrow. In about an hour." Neras eyes lit, and she smiled with a glimmer of fangs.

It was night. Night was his element. But, it was also theirs. Michael Stone felt absolutely comfortable in the dark. He knew his way around in it. He could see through it, hear around it, and feel beyond it. And, because the vampire hunted at night, Stone hunted as well. Michael pulled the rental car into a parking lot a few blocks from the WaterWorks. He approached the dance club on foot. As he neared, he could feel the bass reverberating through the building. He paid the . cover fee and went inside.

Waiting longer than he had wanted, Stone and Mariko left the dojo. He had made her change clothes before they left. Mariko had came out dressed in her kevlar reinforced bodysuit. Stone had shook his head. This was a recon mission, he told her. She had left, and she returned dressed in a blue evening dress. It was somewhat sheer, with a slit up the side that showed her shapely, tanned legs. Michael was dressed in one of his best Armani silks.

Anita raised up on her elbow and watched the blonde take long licks, pushing her long tongue inside to get as much of it as she could. Michael was awakened by Anitas moans. He looked down to see Lena licking Anitas pussy, a smattering of come and her juice on the blondes face. He became instantly aroused. Lena spied Michael out of the corner of her eye. She pulled her mouth away from Anitas pussy and looked up at him. "You taste soooo good," she told him, then gave Anita a few more licks.

From Michael Stones Journal: "I have never attempted to write down anything. It was unnecessary before. It was, in fact, against the rules. Hunters are not allowed to have any written record of their activities, except for what reports they file at the headquarters of The Organization. Everything we do must be kept secret. The world is not ready for the truth of the existence of vampires. At this point, however, I am writing this because I have to. There must be some record of the events that have occurred.