Seven Minutes to Midnight

36

Needless to say, my mother did not take it very well at all when I said my dad had agreed. There was a lot of crying and hugging and leafing through old photo albums to endure, as well as a complicated and awkward meal with Kevin to endure.

"So Christine says you're an artist?" Kevin asked.

I missed a beat while I remembered that my mom's name was Christine. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I always called my mom Mom. Even though she always wanted me to be her friend. "Yeah." My shin took a hit from my mother's high-heeled sandal. "Yeah, I'd like to major in art in college." Another kick. I looked at her and shrugged. I'd never been one for small talk.

"She's also a writer," my mother added.

"Great," Kevin said.

"Um... so how do you know my mom?" I asked.

"We met online," he said.

We all nodded awkwardly.

I began to be thankful that I was moving out.

Never mind that Lane arrived in my room each night, silently and without warning. I didn't want to start packing until the day I was going to leave, even though this gave my mother idea that I would decide not to go, because I knew that if he saw any sign of it, I'd never get away.

The first night I held onto the hope that he wouldn't come. I scanned the yard and the street outside the windows for the wolves. Empty. I closed my curtains and crawled into bed, lying awake for a long time. After about two a.m. I drifted off to sleep, feeling almost safe.

"You're all pink tonight." His voice in my ear.

I didn't have a chance to resist him before his hands soothed my hot skin. "I forgot sunscreen," I said.

He kissed my neck with his cool lips. It felt almost like ice cream sliding across my skin, only dry and not sticky. "Does it hurt?"

"Not right now," I said. I tried to wrap my arms around his neck so that the sunburned tops were touching his skin.

"Poor little Amy." He took my arms and began kissing them starting at my hands and working his way up. "I suppose it might be cruel to hurt you more... your neck is quite red."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"No worries, love."

"Were you really born in the Renaissance? Because you sounded British right then."

He raised his eyes to mine. "I've spent my time in London. You really must learn to trust me."

"I don't trust anyone anymore..." I sighed.

"Not even your best friend Veronica?" He pouted. "I dearly hope that had nothing to do with me."

I assured him that wasn't the case. No, Veronica had done something else to betray me, hadn't she?

It was just a stupid game, Amy...

"Tell me about London," I asked quickly. "Tell me what it was like when you were there?"

Lane settled in beside me, keeping me captive with his eyes and his hands, which he ran over my hot skin. He felt better than the aloe. "I went to London during a time of plague... it was a good time to be a vampire. Those inflicted were expected to die quickly, and I could drink as much as I liked... wholly unlike these times, when it is difficult to get my fill. I must kill as infrequently as possible... although your police forces could never find the evidence needed to convict, nor would they ever be able to detain me. However, I must remain hidden as per Samael's edicts."