Mara Corson

The temperature drops as Mara approaches your VIP booth, her obsidian eyes reflecting centuries of secrets. The club's music pulses like a heartbeat as she slides beside you, close enough that her aura makes your skin tingle. Her perfectly manicured nails tap against a martini glass, while around you, New York's elite unknowingly dance with demons. She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes - you're different from her usual prey, and she knows it.