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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THE BED BESIDE me was notably empty when I awoke in the morning. Rubbing the sticky residue from my tired eyes, I sat up, threw my shirt from last night into the wash basket, and made my way to Damon's closet. The white-painted doors had been strewn open, and I smiled at the selection before choosing an extra-large black band t-shirt and flung it on. Surprised that the man owned something other than a suit, I almost neglected the glare of sunlight on the slick black surface of an item tucked away in the left corner of the wardrobe.
Intrigued, I edged forwards, blocking the reflected light with my palm. At first I thought it was a phone - but it couldn't be unless Damon had two? It definitely wouldn't surprise me if he did - he could easily afford it.
I walked closer, just to be sure that I wasn't hallucinating. I blinked again, focusing on the slick space-grey object burning under my gaze. No- surely it couldn't possibly be.
My breathing sped up rapidly as I bent down and picked up the object. It was light in my hand, and fit into my palm as it had for a year of my life. I couldn't believe that it was here. And that it had been here this whole time.
I felt anger bubble up in my body like an erupting volcano, my phone's black screen reflecting my angry expression. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs; to swear so loudly that the whole of London could hear. Damon knew that I needed my phone, and this whole time he had had it in his possession.
Furious, I clicked on the unlock button and held it down until the tiny apple symbol glared on the screen. I sighed as relief flooded through my body, hoping that the device had enough charge for me to read the messages and texts I had exchanged with people over the eight days my memory was wiped. It would reveal what I had messaged to Damon, to Nathan - to anyone. Maybe it would even reveal who had compelled me to forget everything.
I heard the door click open to the bathroom, and in a panic I urgently tapped against the screen, willing the phone to turn on. After a second, my lock screen flashed before my eyes in a haze of blue light. Hannah and myself smiled in the photo, and my anger was pushed aside as I remembered asking my mother to take it at a carnival in Southampton. Posing in front of a candy floss stall, there was no worry lined on our faces. Our lives were simple back then - I wished I had appreciated it at the time.
I opened my messages, hearing Damon whistling as a wave of warm air hit me from the opening of the bathroom door. I wanted to rip all of his fucking suits to shreds; wanted to forget everything that had happened last night.
He had lied to me. Straight to my face.
Then a thought struck my mind like a bolt of lightning, and I almost screamed. Had it been him all along? Had he compelled me to kill Alexander? But then why did he need me to tell him where the heart was buried in this first place if he already knew?
