Callie had been eying her quarry for about a half hour.

Odd, applying the term "quarry" to Amanda Blake. And a little misleading. She was not stalking Amanda - not exactly.

She was perfectly aware that Amanda was perfectly aware of being under Callie's scrutiny. And Amanda was probably perfectly aware that Callie was perfectly aware that Amanda was perfectly aware that she was being watched. Callie could feel energies coming from Amanda, and they seemed to be what she was looking for. But was it just sexual attraction? It could be. Got to tune a bit better to make the distinction.

Callie knew that she would have to shit or get off the pot pretty soon. She wasn't exactly staring at Amanda, but if the huntress was in a pugnacious mood, Callie was giving her plenty of excuse to get up from her table and come over to the bar and ask, "Is there something I can do for you, Blondie?"

No, Callie decided she was over-dramatizing. This wasn't a biker bar in the States; it was a rather upscale British pub. And Amanda was a celebrity and should be used to people looking at her.

Still, have to do something soon, if for no other reason than somebody else might move in on Amanda.

Make one more trip to the powder room and show off the goods and then go over and get conversational.

Amanda didn't know for sure what to make of the leggy blonde who had been looking at her in a polite, non-challenging way off and on for the last half hour.

Attractive girl - no, attractive woman. She's all grown up, that's for sure. Hard to see her very well in this light, though. Probably a fan who is trying to make sure I'm really me, she decided.

Maybe I should get a T-shirt with printing on it that says, "Yes, I really am Amanda Blake. THE Amanda Blake. Beware!"

Oh, she's making a potty run. Em! Love those legs. Ever so nice of her to wear such a short leather skirt so that she can show them off so very, very well. Nice matching jacket, too. Wonder if there's anything underneath it, besides some very tasty fem flesh.

Callie checked herself in the bathroom mirror. Everything in order. She struck the pose that she planned to do for Amanda.

Am I overdoing it? She wondered.

Nah!

Showtime.

Shapely legs, only inches of which were covered by black leather appeared in Amanda's field of vision.

"Amanda Blake?" a voice from quite a distance above those legs said.

"Yes." Amanda was not quick to look up. "Not to be rude, but what do you want? Excuse my Klingon." Nobody, she knew perfectly well, approached her without wanting something. Should I play my guitar 'till my fingers bleed?

The woman did look edible. Lean meat. Might be good for a chase. Well, hailing frequencies were open. Kill her and eat her, sounds good. Talk first, maybe.

"First, I want to give you a chance to feast your eyes a bit." Callie saw absolutely no point in being subtle. Somehow, subtle didn't seem to be a very compatible idea where Amanda was concerned. "That is, of course, if you like what you see. Do you like what you see?"

"I take it that's a purely rhetorical question," Amanda responded. What's not to like? Crystal-clear blue eyes, high cheek bones, pleasant mouth. A very pretty woman.

"I certainly hope so," said Callie, sweeping her jacket half-open with her right hand and placing her fist on her right hip, exposing her taut, slightly ripped abdomen and a black leather bra that covered her perky breasts.

A runner's body, thought Amanda. Very aerodynamic. Breasts generous enough, though.

"How about it, Amanda? Would you fancy a piece of me? Now, that is NOT a rhetorical question. I really want to know."

"Forgive me. I'm not totally familiar with the American idiom." Amanda placed the accent as Midwestern. "Are you making a sexual reference? Or are you talking about something else."

"Oh, I do have sex on my mind, Amanda. Have no doubt about that. But, yes, I am talking about more than that." Callie smiled as invitingly as she added, "I'm talking about some yummy for your tummy. I'm talking about you killing and eating me."

Yes! There it was! Callie saw it in Amanda's eyes and felt it in the change in frequency of her energies. This was Amanda hungry as opposed to Amanda horny. Gotcha!

"I'm talking about you roasting my tastiest parts over an open fire, perhaps as you admire my gutted body hanging from a branch. I'm talking about you getting up for a midnight snack and finding slices of me in your fridge. Of course, I wouldn't be able to say 'Hi, Amanda, welcome back,' but I'd still be good company, even cold."

"Is this a serious offer?" She really had no doubt, but best to be sure.

"Dead serious, Amanda." Callie fought to keep the excitement out of her voice, excitement triggered by the passionate desire for her meat that she felt coming in waves from the huntress.

This one is selling herself a little too hard, maybe, Amanda thought. Time to call her bluff, if that's what it is. "Well, shall we just go back to my place, fuck each other's brains out, have you sign a release, and then have a human sacrifice, or do you want me to work for my dinner?"

"Oh, trust me, Amanda, you will have to work very, very hard for your dinner. It won't be an easy hunt and the outcome is not to be taken for granted." Spoken with real confidence, no bravado here.

"You keep calling me by my name. What's yours?"

"Callie. Callie Landers."

Oh! That explains it! Amanda thought. Yes, this one. Heard about her. She's good. Expected her to look older, though. God, she's in great shape! Well, she'd have to be to survive this long. Oh, she is going to be SO delicious.

"Landers?" Amanda didn't exactly pretend not to have heard the name, but she wanted to cover her momentary pause with some comment, so she resorted to an Americanism, which she was certain Callie had heard often. "Em, you must have a little Swede in you."

"Yes, and with any luck, you might be able have a little Swede in you, too." Callie smiled at her own joke.

"Already have one. Her name was Inge. But there's always room for one more." Time to turn on the charm. Warm smile. Show her the teeth that are going to sink into her flesh. "You've got my attention, Callie. Will you take a seat, now?"

"Yes. Thank you." Gracefully, Callie sat down.

Blue eyes met green eyes on a common level.

"It doesn't take an expert linguist to tell that you're from the States," Amanda stated flatly. "Does that mean we have to rush the arrangements for the hunt? My schedule does have some flexibility."

"Well, I haven't booked a return flight, if that's what your asking. After all, I might not need it." Meaningfully raised eyebrow.

"Probably sensible of you. I am sure, though, that I can reserve my usual hunting lodge for sometime in the next two weeks, if that isn't rushing you. Unless you want to go to a more exotic setting."

"I know a bit about your lodge. That will be a fine place for our encounter, if it does, indeed, take place. I do have some conditions."

"Ah, conditions. I love conditions. Working within limitations makes things so much more interesting." Amanda cocked her head. "And what would those conditions be, Callie?"

"First of all,"Callie said in a not completely business-like tone, "I would prefer that you don't use a bow and arrows. I understand that you seldom find them necessary and I didn't cross the Atlantic just to be made short work of from a long distance. If you are going to kill me, I want it to be up close and personal."

"Just the way I prefer things myself. I do like some pre-dinner conversation, too. But before I agree to that, let's hear the rest of you conditions." Amanda didn't want to appear too confident or too eager.

"You do have sex with your quarry before you kill them, don't you?"

"When it's their preference, yes."

"If you catch me, it will definitely be my preference."

With a seductive smile, Amanda said, "I'm sure I can accommodate you. Next?"

"About the way I am to be killed - if you catch me, that is - I have some very definite preferences there, too."

"My, you have been giving this some thought, haven't you? Whatever you like, as long it wouldn't require anything too special in the way of equipment - wouldn't want to have to lug an electric chair or a guillotine around the woods."

"All you'll need will be good teeth and a keen sense of timing. I'd like you to rip my throat open when I am at the height of orgasm. Do you think you could do that?"

"Hmm, let's see." Playfully, Amanda reached across the table, touched Callie's chin and tilted her head back. She bared her teeth slightly and ran her tongue over the upper incisors. They looked very sharp, Callie noted. Nicely defined canines. All the better to eat her with. "I think I might manage that. Lovely neck. By the way, are you multi-orgasmic?"

"Very much so." Callie, in fact, almost had a mild O at Amanda's first touch. She tried not to squirm visibly.

"Good. I'll try to take you out on the third or fourth wave. Timing is everything, don't you agree? Any more requests?'

"I would like for us to end the hunt early, say, about eightish."

"Oh, I hope to end it much sooner than that," Amanda assured her. "I want to take as long as possible giving you those multi-O's."

"I appreciate your consideration, but I'm talking about what happens if you don't catch me."

"Ah, yes. That is a possibility. However, I do want my money's worth. Why do you want to make an early night of it?"

"Oh, I'll be happy to take less in the way of a runner's fee. Let's say that if you haven't caught me by eight, you will go back to the lodge's lounge and wait for me to join you as soon as I can get there."

"The one-on-one hunts usually go until ten. Don't tell me a big girl like you is afraid of the dark."

"Oh, I love the dark."

"Then why?"

"Well, I want us to be able to compare notes while it's still fresh in our minds and" - Callie paused pointedly - "if I win, I still want us to have a good roll in the hay together. We will both deserve it."

Amanda was gratified that Callie trusted her so completely on the matter of returning to lounge at an appointed time. A less scrupulous hunter could easily agree to such terms and then lie in ambush. Callie was a woman of insight.

"All right. Eight it is. That be shortly after sunset." Amanda leaned forward and touched Callie's hand. "Dusk is such a romantic time for hunter and quarry to meet in the field. And so very fitting, don't you agree?"

"Yes. A very poetic image. Thank you for accepting that condition."

"Any more conditions?"

"That's the last one - but you haven't agreed to the bit about the bow."

Amanda leaned back. "I don't see why not. I can't even remember the last time someone asked me to rip her throat open with my teeth. I'd really hate to miss out on that. Such a rare treat." She smiled and then nodded decisively. "Done. No bow and arrows. No knife, either, if I can avoid it. I'll kill you bare handed, so to speak."

"Thank you." Callie sighed.

Amanda felt obliged to clarify one point for the American. "You do realize I'd hunt you just for the fun of it, with or without the kill?" She quirked a faint smile. "And the sex..."

"I thought so."

"...and for two pins I'd fuck you anyway."

"Glad to hear it," Callie said.

"So why the 'Death Wish' bit? Don't mistake me, I've got nothing against you, but if I catch you I WILL kill you." She shrugged. "I play for the game stakes. If the prize is your life, I'll take it if I can. I win more than most."

Callie met Amanda's eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

Amanda nodded. "Guessed. Name rings a bell. You've done this before, then?"

"Yes. More than once." Callie noticed that she'd lapsed into British understatement.

"So, why me? Why now? You must know."

Callie nodded. "I've got my reasons."

"I'm sure you have." Amanda shook her head. "And I have mine. Call it one of my ownconditions. Call it Ishmael or Freddie the Frog. Spill the beans."

She really wanted to know, Callie realized. Well, fair enough.

Callie drew a deep breath and began talking.

"Well, I did some running in high school..."

An hour and a half later, she finished.

Amanda considered all that she had heard.

She also considered the beauty of the woman across the table from her.

And she considered how very, very nice it would be to eat her.

"All right, Callie. I'll hunt you and probably kill you and eat you and I'll enjoy doing it. One way or another, we'll have some great sex and no regrets." Amanda extended her hand.

Callie accepted the offered hand with a firm grip. "Good. We're both going to enjoy this."

"I'm sure we will. Now, about this great sex we plan to have - you know, we don't have to wait until after the hunt. I mean, we could start practicing for the victory celebration tonight when we leave here, if you want."

"Amanda, I'd love that," Callie said, "but let's wait. Letting our appetites for each other go unsated will just make our, uh, encounter all that much more intense when it finally happens." She stood and laid a card on the table. "This is the hotel where I'm staying and the number of my room. Give me a call when you've made the arrangements for the hunt."

Amanda produced her own card. "This is a private number with an answering machine. Give me a call if you change your mind - about anything."

Picking up the card, Callie said, "Will do. Looking forward to our next meeting."

"Me, too."

As Amanda watched her quarry's shapely rump recede, she thought, And I especially look forward to our final meeting.

Yes, definitely a runner, she could well believe that. Strong legs, lean belly and she moved well, quickly and confidently. Wouldn't be easy to catch on the flat. Good endurance? Hard to tell, but her breathing seemed easy. Maybe she shouldn't have given in so easily on the bow. It might be fun to bring her down like a running doe.

More fun to kill her up close and very, very personal. Amanda laughed softly. Much more fun, if she caught her at all. Losing the bow improved Callie's chances of survival, gave her options she wouldn't have had. Heading for open fields if cornered, for instance. Places she would have been a perfect target.

Hard to catch, if she didn't just give it up. Clearly she wasn't in it for the money. Would she? Probably not, if only from pride. The wench was a born competitor, she would have to try to win, whatever her other motives.

So, not easy. Well, so much the better. At least she'd get laid afterwards, either way. Amanda smiled, visualising that supple body naked in bed. She shook her head wryly. Better not dwell on that too much on the big day, of course. Distracting. However, tonight was another matter. Couldn't hurt to fantasize a bit. She allowed herself to imagine the possiblities while idly mulling over how she'd catch her rabbit.

No archery. No matter whether she should have conceded, she had. Callie might not have agreed otherwise and she almost certainly wouldn't now. Forget it.

Other weapons? Nothing lethal. She'd as good as promised to kill Callie barehanded.

Lasso? Useless in trees, too slow on the flat.

Bolas? Not her usual style, but not a bad idea. Would her quarry agree to that?

Of course, she didn't have to mention it, but she didn't really like the idea of tricking her opponents, even within the letter of an agreement. She preferred to meet them face to face and fully armed before the hunt started.

Let it go for now, no hurry. Amanda's glass was empty. One more? Well, why not. She got up, went to the bar and ordered a pint of Timothy Taylor's.

"Hey, gorgeous," somebody said.

"That would be me," Amanda said without turning. Definitely should have worn the T-shirt.

"Doing anything tonight?"

Amanda took her drink and paid for it. She considered eating the barmaid. Yummy.

"Thought I'd go home and masturbate," she said mildly. "Why?"

Callie was grateful that her hotel room was not far from the bar where she had met Amanda. She wanted to get someplace private as quickly as possible to reflect on what had just transpired - and what lay ahead for her. And the sort of "reflecting" that she had in mind could get her arrested if she did it in public - well, in MOST public locations.

Stripping out of her clothes as though they were on fire, Callie flopped down on the bed and began to explore her body, running her hands over the flesh that, perhaps, soon Amanda Blake would be consuming. She squeezed the thin layer of feminine body fat that covered the strong, taut muscles beneath.

Would she, indeed, soon be giving up this much-admired and painstakingly developed body? Would this body that caused so many groans of lust and sighs of admiration soon be food for the glorious huntress?

Well, Callie sincerely hoped not, but... oh, the thought!

It was hard to imagine that, until only two months ago, she had regarded Amanda as nothing more than a television star who had a good publicist to promote her action-adventure image. Once she had found out just how very, very real Amanda was, Callie had to admit that she had become a bit obsessed with her.

In person, Amanda had turned out to be everything Callie had imagined and then some. The woman was simply magnificent. Remembering the tingle Callie felt when she had first sensed the hunger in Amanda's eyes caused her to shiver with excitement on her bed and brought her to the point where it was time to reach over and grab her favorite toy.

Continuing to massage her breasts, abdomen, and upper thighs (all parts that she was sure Amanda would savor) with her left hand, Callie inserted the vibrator between her pussy lips with her right hand and began to stroke herself in rhythm with the beat of an old jazz classic that summed up her feelings about Amanda perfectly. In her mind, she could hear the perfect articulation of the sultry songstress Susannah McCorkle as she crooned:

" 'Like the beat beat beat of the tom-tom
" 'When the jungle shadows fall,
" 'Like the tick tick tick of the stately clock
" 'As it stands against the wall,

" 'Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops
" 'When the summer shower is through,
" 'So a voice within me keeps repeating:
" 'You, you, you!' "

Ah! Callie gasped in mini-orgasm and kept her level of arousal up as she continued to delight herself, imagining herself singing to Amanda:

" 'Night and day, you are the one.
" 'Only you beneath the moon or under the sun
" 'Whether near to me, or far
" 'It's no matter darling where you are
" 'I think of you
" 'Day and night, night and day. Why is it so
" 'That this longing for you follows me wherever I go?
" 'In the roaring traffic's boom,
" 'In the silence of my lonely room,
" 'I think of you
" 'Day and night, night and day.' "

Callie could imagine Amanda speaking the next lines of the song to her - at least, Callie hoped Amanda felt that way about her.

" 'Under the hide of me
" 'There's an, oh, such a hungry yearning burning inside of me.' "

And Callie would respond:

" 'And this torment won't be through
" 'Until you let me spend my life making love to you
" 'Day and night, night and day.' "

She erupted in full, the-earth-moved-and-the-heavens-parted orgasm.

As Callie eased up in her self-ministrations, she asked herself, would she really be willing to spend her life, or more accurately EXpend her life, in order to satisfy Amanda's hunger?

Well, it wasn't her plan to do so. She would do everything possible to prevent it - or, at least, postpone it. That is, she would do everything that could be done in an honest and sportsmanlike way. She wouldn't cheat - and her judgement of Amanda was that, for all her dark desires, Amanda was also an honest woman. Callie had faced enough opponents in all manner of contests that she was confident that she could separate the honest players from the cheats.

It bothered Callie a bit that, while she had not lied to Amanda, she had not told the whole truth, had not said everything that could have been said.

When she had told Amanda that she "did some running" when she was in high school, she could have gone on to add that she had filled the trophy case of her small town high school with the fruits of her victories. She excelled at cross country and in track and field: her best events were the 800 meter, the one-mile, and the two mile, winning first place statewide in those events in both her junior and senior years. She also was the key to her school's team winning the 800 meter relay. She never did better on the state level than second place in the 200 meter hurdles, although she was conference champion, of course. Her running abilities were enough to gain her a full scholarship to the State University and her career as a collegiate athlete was superb.

Would it have been fair to Amanda to give a more complete picture of her athletic abilities? If Callie weren't guilty of lying, was she at least guilty of deception by minimalizing? She had run as quarry in hunts for blood "more than once." In fact, she had been doing it an average of four times a year for the past seven years.

Callie didn't have to delve too deeply to find a rationale for her omission.

"Callie, girl, don't you go bragging on yourself," her great-grandmother had told her when she was ten years old. "Tooting your own horn isn't ladylike."

While Callie found the concept of "ladylike" behavior a bit quaint and she never really aspired to be a "lady" in the sense that Granny Bess had intended, she did disapprove of braggarts and she didn't want to be cast into that group.

Granny Bess had given her other pieces of advice that she remembered. One of the cutest, she thought, was "Whistling girls and cackling hens often come to some bad end." Callie remembered that every time she whistled, which she did fairly often.

But, being honest with herself, Callie had to admit her reticence about her record was not due to Granny's injunction against immodesty. No, she was following the advice of another relative in being close-mouthed.

"Always hold your cards close to your chest, Callie, whether you got a good hand or no," Uncle Jake, her card-playing mentor had told her. "There ain't no point in letting the world know what you're holding. Keep æem guessing."

Yes, Callie had to admit that she was being cagey. She hadn't lied to Amanda. Callie's record was there for anybody with access to the Internet to check out. Her name had appeared in her home state's leading newspaper often enough a dozen or so years ago. If Amanda was curious, she could find out all about her success as a runner in both short and long distances.

One thing that wouldn't be in the record would be the three marathons she had participated in during past five years. She had finished in the top ten in each race - not enough to get her name in the papers, but good enough to show that she could go the distance. It didn't give the same satisfaction as hearing her high school classmates chanting "Cal-lie! Cal-lie!" as she crossed the finish line, but she did have a sense of accomplishment.

If Amanda took the time, she could find out that Callie had been the fastest female in her home state, but Callie wasn't going just spill that for her. She was holding her cards close to her chest, just like Uncle Jake had told her to.

There was another piece of avuncular wisdom that she had internalized.

"Callie, girl, don't you ever let me hear about you not playing to win - at ANYthing. If I ever hear that you haven't done your best to win, I'll paddle your little butt." Not liking Callie's smirking reaction to that, Uncle Jake had gone on: "Don't you look at me like that. I mean it - I'll do it, even when you're old enough to have kids of your own. Always give your best and always play to win.

"See, there is such a thing as a friendly game," Uncle Jake explained. "But any player who wants you to take it easy on him - or her - isn't much of a sportsman - or sportswoman. And, I'll tell you this, too - that person isn't much of a friend, either. If somebody wants you to hold back, then you AREN'T in a friendly game, æcause you aren't playing with a friend. A friend always wants you to do your best, even if it means beating him - or her. Always give it everything you have."

Words to live by - literally.

If she didn't give it all she had, it was very unlikely that she would survive.

And even with her best effort, it wouldn't be any cake walk.

She was sure that Amanda would want her to give it her all. Was that just because Amanda was a good sportswoman? Well, Callie could tell she was that.

Could it also be, though, that Amanda would be her friend?

It could. Even as the tigress ripped her throat, claiming her agreed-upon prize, Amanda could still be her friend.

Probably better to be killed by a friend than a stranger or an enemy.

But best not to be killed at all.

What would her great-grandmother, her uncle, the kids who cheered for her in high school and college think of the contest she was about to enter?

They would think she was fucking crazy, that's what they would think.

But, then, they would think the same thing if they knew about any of several dozen things she had done in the past few years.

Maybe she was crazy - she wasn't really in the best position to judge.

One thing she was pretty sure of, though: she might be crazy, but she wasn't stupid.

She had studied a map of the hunting grounds and even had a friend (well, an intimate acquaintance) with a private plane who could fly her over it. However, there were some things that she could learn only by being on the grounds and there was only one way to do that, since she wasn't a member of the lodge.

She would have to volunteer for a hunt with another hunter.

With luck, she could find someone who would be interested in a practice hunt.

If need be, she could even offer herself as a sexual prize in order to get a hunt.

If she couldn't find any takers on that offer, well, the only think she could do would be offer herself up for a real blood hunt and hope not to get killed.