Yellow Pages 
Something was eating at Rabbit, something she couldn't quite articulate as she looked through her phone. There were a few numbers that she had no recollection of even knowing. But how was that possible?

Her thumbs scrolled quickly and halted to a stop on the name "Henry". She scrunched up her eyebrows as she reread the name several times but with no bell ringing, she sighed and started a new message.

Hi, this is Rabbit. I lost all the names in my phone. Who is this?

@Beauregard Bertrand

An unknown number, but a familiar name.

And an unexpected one.

Beauregard pondered his options. She'd been so terribly rude, misbehaving as she had in front of Taraneh. It would be easy to lure her in, to drink from her until he couldn't anymore and she ceased to carry on herself.

But how wasteful when perhaps she needed only the proper training.

We shared two varieties of dinner together on a rainy evening some months back.
Unsaved Number

Perhaps his wording was a tad scandalous, but he trusted her to understand it.

Rabbit blinked blankly at the person's reply back to her.

Two varieties of dinner?

She shook her head confusedly and started to type.

I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand what you mean


Goodness, she was daft. How rude. He nearly introduced himself as Beauregard, then remembered he'd likely called himself something else. He sought a small book at his desk, names scribbled within.

It's Henry , dear.



Rabbit pinched the bridge of her nose and clenched her eyes closed tightly. How could this be happening? Why would she have a phone number of someone she didn't even know?

Maybe she had the wrong number? No, he clearly knew who she was. She could feel the palms of her hands starting to heat up from her nerves so she quickly texted him back...

Henry isn't sounding familiar. How did you get my number?

Rabbit tossed the phone down and began to massage her temples.

Chill the fuck out, she told herself. But the blazing fire within her was reaching the surface.

Beauregard frowned, his feelings delicately hurt.

I gave you my card. I have your number entirely because you just texted me.

He certainly wasn't about to send her messages about being a vampire, but he was sorely tempted to remind her what she was dealing with.

For now he waited, wondering if she'd bumped her head on a wall. Or the wrong vampire.

It took a while for Rabbit to gather herself enough to look at her phone. She was in fire. Sweat was dripping down her forehead while she focused on calm thoughts to cool down.

Eventually the meditating did its job and she regained a cool center. Hesitant hands reached for her phone.

A card? Like a business card?

I think I’m suffering from memory loss


Oh, my. Beauregard supposed it was time to play hero.

That sounds very worrying.
I have some sense of what may have caused it. Have you been forgetting other people or things ?

How rude it would be for someone to wipe only him from her mind.

Finally someone who seemed worried about her situation.

Rabbit gulped at his reply as she thought over others she had forgotten.

Yes a couple others.
How would you know?


It may be best if we meet to discuss it , if you'd be willing. There may be some supernatural aspects unsafe to discuss over text message. We met in the Heights before. Perhaps we could again?


Supernatural aspect?

She knew about others like her and shifters. But could either of those do this to her?

Ok that sounds fine. Where should we meet up?


How easily she agreed. Beauregard did not imagine she was a young woman who would live long. He was uncertain if it would be in his hands that her life would be cut short.

I favor a small cafe not far from the planetarium. 518 Westend St. I could meet as early as tomorrow around 6:30pm.


Let's say 8pm

Oh boy. She was actually doing this.

She took a deep breath and went back to meditating.

I'll see you then. Take care in the meantime, Rabbit.

Survive at least one more night.

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