Nothing is more beautiful than blood on new-fallen snow.
Lilith scents the air. Her prey’s blood calls to her. Even without the footprints, she could find him anywhere in the forest. Anywhere in the world.
He fires his weapon when he sees her. The exquisite pain is a mere inconvenience. She swoops in and breaks the gun. Then she takes the back of his neck.
His urine-soaked pants steam in the cold.
“All I want is one kiss...”
He lets her—they always do.
After the kiss, she drops his body and smiles. Face pale. Lips red.
Blood on snow.
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