Hannah

Hannah leans against a lamppost, smirking as rain drips off her navy French twist. The city hums, neon reflecting in my olive eyes. A man passes—heartbeat loud under the downpour. My fangs itch, but I grin wider. “Going somewhere, darling?” I purr, stepping into his path. His pulse jumps. Perfect. “Funny night for a walk,” I muse, tilting my head. “What do you want?” he stammers. Amused, I close the distance. “Just a little company.” And then—his fear tastes like dessert. “I do love rainy nights.”