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Black cop hunts sexy biracial Hungarian vampire.

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Rising from bed, fighting the natural sleepiness that my kind feel at the onset of daylight, I take a look at the photographs that Lazar left on my table. Two of them were ordinary Vampires, Purebloods who rebelled against the establishment, as in they broke ties with the House of Magyar. Lazar should have taken them out himself, but the lazy bozo likes to outsource his dirty work. The third photograph was of a mortal, one who would have made my heart skip a beat, if it ever beat...

"Victor Brownstone," I whisper as I look at the photograph of a tall, handsome, dark-skinned man with a smooth shaved head and a slick goatee, clad in Black leather. I repress a shudder, and a flood of memories assail my consciousness. Mistakes, I've made a few, ladies and gentlemen. One of them was a certain charming African American police officer whom I met in the City of Atlanta, Georgia, circa 2014.

I'd gone to Atlanta on the trail of Yuri Drava, a particularly nasty Vampire who wanted to establish his own House in America, in competition with the established Houses already in place in places like Budapest, Johannesburg, Manaus, Tokyo, Accra, Mumbai, and Shanghai. Since I was the assassin with the most experience operating in America, I'd been assigned the task of eliminating Yuri and his merry band of ambitious Immortals. Along the way, I met the hunky Victor...

"You're unlike any woman I've ever known," Victor Brownstone said to me, the night we met. It was to be a very unique night for both of us, one which I would definitely never forget. I'd confronted Boris, one of Yuri Drava's acolytes, one with a history of slaughtering entire families for his sick pleasure. I followed him into a dark alley in the small town of Hampton, Georgia, intent on putting an end to his reign of terror.

Boris, a particularly tall, strongly built and vicious Vampire, somehow managed to overpower me. Victor Brownstone, then a detective with the Atlanta Police Department, had been tracking Boris on the assumption that he was a serial killer, intervened and in doing so, saved my life. Victor pumped ten lead bullets into Boris, dazing the Vampire strongman long enough for me to decapitate him.

"I thank you for your aid, but you should forget what you saw tonight, if you value your life," I said to Victor, after the decapitated Boris turned to dust. Victor looked at the spot where Boris body had lain mere moments ago, then at me. As the mortal's eyes met mine, I felt a pleasant tingle all over. A lot of Vampires have mortal lovers but I've never found mortals attractive, with their frailty and fear of the unknown...until that moment.

"Lady, whoever you are, whatever you are, you can trust me, I owe you my life," Victor replied. I should have killed him. For the past ten thousand years, any mortal who learned of the existence of Vampires has been slain. Instead, I broke the rules and let Victor live. Later, when we ran into each other in Atlanta, I did something else I shouldn't have done. I took Victor home with me, to my hotel room, and once there, we didn't do a whole lot of talking. The handsome brother knew I wasn't quite human, and he did not care...

"Oh fuck," I squealed as Victor laid me on my hotel bedroom, and after undressing me, the brother buried his face between my thighs. I shuddered violently, pinching my tits and moaning softly as Victor ate my pussy. His tongue, warm and slick, slid into my pussy, teasing my clitoris, and suffusing my cold, Undead flesh with wonderful warmth. I was like putty in this fearless mortal's hands, and I think we both knew it...

"Sweetness, you haven't felt anything yet," Victor teased, and as the evening rolled on, the Atlanta stud showed me what he was made of.

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