When Cora arrives home with no recollection of the previous week and two bite marks on her neck, she begins to retrace her steps straight back to notorious vampire Damon Harrison-Altera. He claims to have loved her - but so does his best friend, Nat...
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"CORA?" THE MALE'S thick accent repeated. He took a step forward into the light, causing the shadows to retreat from his face. I gasped. Just reaching six foot, with sun-kissed skin and eyes that glimmered against the backdrop like cracked diamonds, only one word could describe him; beautiful. High cheekbones were matched with tanned skin, and stubble lined his untimely jaw. His pitch-black hair was shaved at the sides to give his face more definition. Half of his right eyebrow was missing due to a slim white scar, the white top beneath his black suit stained with a substance, but he was too far away for me to make out what it was.
I couldn't place his age. He was neither young, nor old. In human years, my guess would be late twenties, but it didn't feel right to place him in an age bracket when he appeared so young yet ancient.
My stomach stirred. Bile rose in my throat. I had never seen this man before in my life. How did he know my name?
"How do you know my name?" I whispered. I couldn't bring myself to raise my voice, afraid that it would disrupt the flow of the night.
The man strutted forward, opening up his arms in question. "Come on, princess, what're you talking about?" He enquired, refusing to halt as he walked closer and closer by the second.
Something inside me cracked, like an egg being smashed until its shell was nothing more than irreparable fragments. "Stop," I shouted, biting down on my tongue. "I'm one shit explanation away from breaking your nose."
The man scoffed, only to glare at me. I could feel the rich hazel of his eyes prying into my soul. "Knowing you, I'd say that's very unlikely."
"'Knowing me'? I don't know who the fuck you are!" My fingers rearranged themselves into fists.
The man raised two fingers to each side of his nose. "Right, that's just great," he uttered into his hand. "I'm Damon. Ring any bells?"
Damon.
"I've never met a Damon in my life," I retorted, teeth chinking together as they sank deep into the flesh of my cheek. Pain spiralled through my gums, but it kept me on edge.
The man – Damon – threw up his arms in frustration and closed the gap between us in a blur. I turned to run, but his hand enclosed around my upper arm and brutally pulled me back to reality. I was no match for his strength, and gasped as I stumbled into his firm chest.
"I," I pushed the loose strands of my red-gold hair behind my eyes, "am going to break your fucking leg if you don't let me go, or tell me what's happening." I wasn't one to threaten others, nor did I have the power to pull off any of the threats that came from the confine of my lips, but fear did something strange to me. It woke me up. It felt like a lightning bolt had struck me, and turned the blood in my veins into electricity. And I had created plenty of scars to prove it.
