The Colour of Death by Elizabeth Davies

Author:Elizabeth Davies
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: urban fantasy, paranormal, paranormal romance, paranormal romance series, supernatural, Vampire series, vampire, vampires, Romance vampire, Vampire romance
Publisher: Elizabeth Davies
Published: 2019-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Olivia

I woke with a start. It was 5.45 pm, and I’d slept for the biggest part of the day. I did feel slightly better for it, though, and I thought I could probably manage some food. First of all though, I needed a drink because my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I peeled it away with a grimace. Nasty.

My progress from bed, to bathroom, to kitchen was still wobbly, but my head was less woolly than it had been this morning, and I thought I was a little more in control. I suspected, I hoped, that whatever virus I’d picked up was on its way out.

As I heated up some soup, I stuffed the disgusting remains of last night’s meal into the overflowing bin, remembering I wanted to call the takeaway place. The whole thing seemed a little silly now, but I phoned them anyway, in between spoonfuls of Campbell’s finest chicken broth, just to put my mind at rest.

‘Ah, Mrs Parr. The usual?’ a man with a Chinese accent asked. No matter who answered the phone, they always insisted on calling me “missus”.

‘No thanks, not today. Your food is delicious, but I can’t manage it two days in a row. The reason I called is—’ I hesitated, realising how daft this was going to sound. ‘Did the delivery driver hand my meal directly to me, or did someone else take it from him to give to me?’

A barrage of Chinese blasted down the phone, rapid and angry, then in English, ‘Why? Was there something wrong with it?’

‘No, not at all,’ I hurried to reassure him. ‘The meal was lovely.’ In actual fact, I couldn’t remember taking a single mouthful of it; although I must have done, considering it was half-eaten.

‘Then why do you want to know? Did the driver do something wrong?’

‘No, honestly, the driver was fine. I think. I mean, I can’t remember him coming to my house. But he must have, because I ate my meal.’ I paused, then added, ‘I think I had a bit of a memory loss. I’ve not been well, you see, and—’

‘The driver says he gave it to you. You paid him and he gave you your crispy chicken. Did he forget something?’

No, it was me who had forgotten something. I thanked the man and ended the call.

His confirmation had reassured me about one thing, but raised further questions about my state of mind yesterday. What kind of illness makes you lose whole chunks of time? I could name one or two, but I was as certain as I could be that I wasn’t in the early stages of dementia, and there were no indications that I’d suffered a stroke, or had passed out.

I resisted the urge to consult Doctor Google and decided to keep a close eye on myself instead; if it happened again, I’d make an appointment to see a real live doctor.

A high temperature could also be responsible for hallucinations, and although I was

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