Seven Minutes to Midnight

22

I have been referring to the way I felt around Lane as a spell, or charm, but at the time I had no idea what was happening. I simply felt different. It had been easy at first to assume this change was because I had a crush on Lane. I had no idea what hormones felt like. But after this, after my feelings of jealousy had been so easily wiped away, after I felt the urge to hug someone, I physically shuddered right there in the middle of Geometry class. What if I had actually hugged someone, a Shannon Lavoie or Brittany Bowden? As if the other kids weren't whispering already about our weird foursome—I would never hear the end of it if I had actually embraced one of my mortal enemies there in the hallway.

There had to be some supernatural force at work here, I concluded.

Lunchtime, naturally, I approached with trepidation. This time it had nothing to do with silly teenage angst regarding love lost and betrayal. I now worried that I would not be able to think clearly, to see what was truly happening.

It all began normally enough. We all sat, unpacked our lunch bags. Veronica had her clear water bottle filled with either grape juice or cranberry juice, judging from the color. She had peeled off the original label and written on the white remains "O+" in Magic Marker. Frank, on the other hand, had changed from bringing in a clear bottle to an ornate silver flask. He sipped it furtively, his eyes seeking out the administration.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to have a flask in school?" I asked, pulling out my own juice bottle. I hadn't gone so far as Veronica; mine still had the cranberry juice label on it.

"It was a gift," Frank said testily.

I didn't have to ask who it was from. Frank and Lane made eye contact and silently toasted each other, Frank with his flask and Lane with his silver thermos.

"Is that real silver?" I asked, raising one eyebrow.

Any vampire fan would know that silver is detrimental to vampires, and werewolves too, for that matter. Of course everyone knows that a silver bullet will kill a werewolf, but vampire hunting kits from the 19th century often came with silver bullets. It is said vampires cannot stand the pure metal, as their souls have been corrupted. No one ever explains why then vampires (or werewolves) are not said to have an allergy or weakness to all pure metals, but superstitions are often illogical.

"No, it's a silver alloy," Frank said with the air of a touché.

"Good," I said.

On the other side of the table, Veronica leaned over until she was nuzzling Lane's arm. "Can I have a sip of what's in your thermos?" she purred.

"I think you had best stick to what is in your bottle for now," Lane demurred gently.

I watched this exchange warily, testing my own feelings.

I had known that Lane and Veronica had been somewhat romantically entangled when Lane kissed me. I had watched them! Yet I still had to stop myself from these little stabbing thoughts in my brain: He's mine. He's only mine. He only wants me.

Clearly Lane did not only want me. Or was it so clear?

Veronica did not seem to see the slightly mocking way he treated her, patting her on the head like a favorite pet. I wasn't so much jealous of Frank—I got the impression that Lane preferred women. However, if I watched closely, Lane made sure to meet gazes with Frank, to share some kind of male bond: Can you believe this girl thinks I want her? I'd much prefer your company.

I had judiciously kept myself from making eye contact with Lane throughout lunch. My finger traced the lip of my juice bottle as I wondered if that made any difference. I tried to recall the various times I'd felt under his spell. Most of the time I had been touching him physically, but there were times in the cemetery where I'd felt the spell and only been in close proximity, within several feet of his person. Perhaps eye contact had nothing to do with it.

"What are you thinking about so intently, Amy?"

Lane's melodic voice startled its way into my thoughts, and I looked up, made eye contact.

There was no electric contact, no flood of his charm flowing into me.

What a fool I felt like.

"Nothing," I muttered, dropping my eyes to the scratched tabletop. Was this something I could talk to my friends about? No.

Lane smiled, sat back in his chair. "I do hope it was nothing," he said. "I would dislike greatly to see you so concerned about something."

Veronica laughed even though it wasn't quite a joke or even all that witty.

I wonder if he can read minds?

The thought skittered across my mind before I could think to stop it, or hide it, and my eyes flicked up to Lane's face.

He was looking directly at me, nodding ever so slightly. So slightly it was possible that Frank and Veronica might interpret his motion as fidgeting. Was it possible?

You might not be as familiar with the vampire literature as I am, which is perfectly natural, given your situation. There is no shortage of vampiric superpowers. In The Vampire Chronicles, vampires could read minds and fly. In the Twilight Saga, vampire powers were unique, but telepathy was possessed in one form or another by several vampires, as were psychic abilities and the ability to control the emotions of others around them. Most vampires are able in some way to draw in their victims, to make them come willingly to their death. This could also be some kind of mind control of the sort I felt Lane was practicing on us all.

In Dracula, this state of extreme control only happens after the vampire has repeatedly taken blood from the victim, and a bond is forged once he shares his blood with her. It was possible that Veronica was already in this state, if Lane had indeed bitten her—I'd still only seen small bruises on her neck that healed quickly—and I wondered if Frank could be in this state as well. He'd known Lane for a time longer than Veronica and me, and now that I thought about it, Frank also had an extended period where he missed school.

If this was the case, then I was the only one not bonded to Lane.

I thought about this during art class, after I'd escaped from Lane's knowing eyes. Veronica chattered about how she and Lane were in several classes together, and how everyone was jealous. "He sits beside me and we gaze into each other's eyes the whole period. You wouldn't believe how quickly the time passes! Then, he escorts me to my next class and we do the same thing all over again."

It was a plausible enough theory, that Lane was a vampire. Yet my mind couldn't give up the logic of everyday reality. That is, until I was again approached by Mara in the hallway.