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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11:21 PM, 14TH OF DECEMBER, 2017.
The last thing I remembered was having coffee with Bree Turner on Carnaby Street, at four o'clock sharp on the fifth of December. The streets were bustling with the occasional teenage girl searching for a Christmas present in Boots, and desperate, youthful, volunteers handing out brochures about scientology and gigs in the local area. The coffee had been bitter on my tongue, and it had lingered for the next five minutes until I washed it down with some water. Cinnamon, and the scent of deep-fried delicacies laced the winter swollen air from a stall around the corner. My hands had been clutched in towards my chest to keep out the cold, my white scarf wrapped around my chin so tightly, it felt like I was suffocating on oxygen.
I don't recall Bree standing up to leave, nor day shifting to night as the sun slid over the horizon.
I hammered my hand against my electronic clock, the pixelated numbers reading what I presumed to be a glitch in the time. The numbers stuck to the glass screen like glue. Perhaps it was my imagination. Maybe the past eight days were too irrelevant to remember. University, and the upcoming retakes, made it all too possible for time to slip through my fingers.
"Damn it," I murmured, wincing as I drew back my reddened hand. My pasty white skin appeared even paler in the yellow light of my room, but the energy saving bulbs were the only ones I could afford. The decision not to work over the holidays had taken its toll - not that I could remember most of it anyway.
You're going mad. I told myself. The clock must be wrong. You can fix that.
I sighed, and reached into my pocket for my phone, only for my hands to scrape at the crumbs fixated at the bottom. The mobile device was missing - and so was my memory.
"Hannah?" I groaned, calling for my roommate to wake in desperation, but she wasn't there. My breathing picked up as I tucked my hair behind my ears, and bit my lip. Raking my eyes over each surface of the rectangular room was pointless. My phone was nowhere to be seen, but I couldn't picture losing it.
