"I feel as if I've met you before," he says softly, puzzled.
"I feel the same way," I say honestly, the truth of the matter finally striking me. Already I have said how I can sense emotions, and that is true. The ability came to me slowly as the centuries of my life passed. At first I assumed it was because of my intense observatory faculties, and I still feel that is part of it. Yet I can sense a person's feelings even without studying them closely, and the ability baffles me to this day because it suggests a sense that is nonphysical, which I am not yet ready to accept.
I am not alone with this ability. Over time I have met the occasional human who was as sensitive as I.
Indeed, I have killed several of them because they alone could sense what I was, or rather, what I was not. Not human. Something else, they would tell their friends, something dangerous. I killed them, but I did not want to because they alone could understand me. I sense now thatSeymouris one of these humans. The feeling is further confirmed when once more I pick up my bow and arrow and aim at the target. For my vision is distracted. Mr. Castro stands in the distance behind the school gymnasium, talking to a perky blond. Talking and touchingobviously making a move on the young thing. The teacher is perhaps three hundred yards distant, but for me, with a bow in my strong arms, he is within range. As I toy with my next arrow, I think that I can shoot him in the chest and no one will knowor believethat it was really me who killed him. I can make it so that evenSeymourdoesn't see where the arrow flies. Killing Mr. Riley two nights earlier has awakened in me the desire to kill again. Truly, violence does beget violence, at least for a vampirenothing quite satisfies as does the sight of blood, except for the taste of it.
I slip the arrow into the bow.
My eyes narrow.
Castro strokes the girl's hair..
Yet out of the comer of my eye I noticeSeymourwatching me.
Seeing what? Sensing what? The blood fever in me?
Perhaps. His next word is revealing.
"Don't," he says.
My aim wavers. I am amazed.Seymourknows I am thinking about killing Castro! Who is thisSeymour, I ask myself? I lower my bow and look over at him. I have to ask.
"Don't what?" I say.
His eyes, magnified behind their glasses, stare at me. "You don't want to shoot anybody."
I laugh out loud, although his remark chills me. "What makes you think I want to shoot somebody?"
He smiles and relaxes a notch. My innocent tone has done its work on him. Perhaps. I wonder ifSeymouris one of those rare mortals who can fool even me.
"I just had the feeling you were going to," he says. "I'm sorry."
"Do I look so dangerous?"
He shakes his head. "You are different from anyone I nave ever met."
First Ray notices that I have an accent, and nowSeymourreads my mind. An interesting day, to say the least. I decide I should keep a lower profile, for the time being.
Yet I do not really believe he has read my mind. If I did, like him or not, I would kill him before the sun set.
"You're just so dazzled by my beauty," I say.
He laughs and nods. "It isn't often a beauty such as you is caught talking to a nerd like me."
I lightly poke him in the belly with the tip of my arrow. "Tell me more about the kind of stories you like." I nock the arrow onto my bowstring. Mr. Castro will live another day, I think, but maybe not many more. I add, "Especially your favorite horror stories."
So for the rest of the periodSeymourtells me about an assortment of authors and books he has read. I am delighted to learn that Dracula is his all-time favorite story. I miss the bull's-eye a few times on purpose, but I don't know if I foolSeymour. He never takes his eyes off me.
The next period I am off to biology. Ray sits in the back at a lab table. I waste no time. I walk straight back and sit beside him. He raises an eyebrow as if to say that someone else has that seat, but then seems to change his mind.
"How did you enjoy archery?" he asks.
"You talked to Pat?" I ask.
"Yes."
There she is again, the girlfriend, between us. Once more I think of the data files at Mr. Riley's office. If the police do examine them, and do decide Mr. Riley has met with foul play, they will be paying me a visit. If I cannot access the files soon, I will have to destroy them. I decide to hasten things, knowing that I run the risk of destroying my whole seduction. I want to look at those files tonight. I reach over and touch Ray's arm.