The spiked boots part the way.
The leather second skin announces.
Prowling. Stalking.
Icy eyes appraise the jostling clubbers, seeking out tonight's sustenance.
She ignores the quick-turned heads, the willing, the eager. Licking hungry lips, she seeks virgin prey.
There. The reluctant, self-effacing mouse.
Pale... nervous... and yet, that flick of the eye. Yes.
Moving close, she growls against the shock-stilled neck, intent and promise clear.
What once was good enough for him will be stripped away and naked truths revealed.
A new life born.

She pats the husband's ashen cheek.
"Don't worry, hun. I'll bring her back tomorrow. Promise."