I told Carmen what had happened encountering Tino's family. I of course informed her about the invitation to dinner and she declined. She said she was busy that weekend completing her thesis draft. She advised that I should decline by making up an excuse, suggesting I say I have a family emergency.

Yeah right!

I was certain that would make them reschedule the dinner. I also asked James and Max if either wanted to accompany me, but both were busy that weekend with their own affairs. Max feared he would accidentally give away secrets that could help the hunters and too suggested I shouldn't go. Asking the Stoners was equal to finding the eight in Minesweeper on the first click. I mentioned nothing of it to Draven, and he also advised against attending. He even followed me to the house.

"I can face them alone. I don't see how telling me to turn back now is helping."

"Mistress, whether you die from this, it will benefit them, not you." He floated in front of me at least ten times before the ectoplasmy chill set in.

"Draven, there is a kid who has trouble expressing something to his parents and needs encouragement. I've come to the decision that while they're somehow programmed to kill me, Tino thinks differently. I'm going to support him."

"Mara says hunters are determined to get rid of anything they've sworn to get rid of. You can't convince this kid to hunt werewolves or witches or even ghosts ..."

Blah blah blah. Yes, I knew the dangers ahead of me, but I'm still alive and telling this story, aren't I? I stopped at the cedar bushes separating the two houses and said, "Draven, I have no idea who Mara is and she could be wrong about certain things. I'm going through with this. You're free to come along, but they'll definitely know something's up if they catch me talking to you."

Draven didn't respond. Instead, he floated away and vanished. With him gone, I approached the front door and rang the doorbell. Shortly after, a man answered the door. I didn't see him the last time, but he appeared exhausted, as if he recently returned home from a long business trip.

"You must be?"

"Lena. I was invited over for dinner."

"Ah yes! My wife has mentioned you the other day. Wasn't someone supposed to join you? Her name's Carmen, right?"

"Carmen? She can't make it. She'd love to, but she's busy."

I had a strong feeling he didn't trust me. I suspected he recently returned from a hunting trip and wanted to kill me on the spot. "Yes. You're a little early, but please, come in. Don't stay out in the cold."

I stepped in, making sure I didn't trip off any barriers or traps from crossing a threshold. I doubted Tino's family would improperly set up a barrier, but hey! They did invite me. He closed the door, hung up my coat, and led me to the living room. Just before I could sit, he, his wife, and their two oldest assembled in front of the dining room entrance.

"You've already met my wife, Louisa, and my children Jovi and Gabi. My name is Antonio, by the way."

All were dressed as if they arrived from a church service. The men wore shirts and pants while the women wore modest dresses. Then there was me, slightly underdressed for the occasion, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I probably should've asked Carmen for something of hers. While I don't normally wear it, I made sure to put on my cross pendant. Anyway, why should I ramble about what I'm wearing? It was what Tino wore at first that caused quite a stir.

Just as I began to say something, Tino ran down the stairs, ecstatic I made it to dinner. "Lena! Lena! How do I look?" he exclaimed as he came down. He put on a similar outfit to the guys, but he had in addition a cape fashioned out of a bed sheet and a waistcoat. He also applied make-up on his face, but it was messy. Messy as in he used lipstick to draw on blood dripping from the side of his mouth and every colour of eye shadow to give himself raccoon eyes. It wasn't perfect, but it was a start to his Halloween costume.

"Wow, Tino," I exclaimed, "you look almost like a real–"

Gabi interrupted me with some expletives in Spanish. "You used my make-up!"

"But I wanted to show you my costume," Tino whined.

"Augustino!" Antonio scolded the boy, "Apologize to your sister and wash your face."

"But–"

Antonio said some words in Spanish which broke the kid's heart. I could see Tino's face twitch, holding back a whimper. He desperately wanted to get their attention. While I wouldn't want anyone going through my make-up kit, especially if it was the expensive stuff, I'd let this pass. Adults, huh? As Tino trudged up the stairs, my hosts led me to a seat in the dining room.

"You must excuse him," Louisa said as she came in with a casserole dish. "He can be a little . . . eccentric. He's passionate about getting into the family business, but he's not ready yet."

"Family business? What is it that you do?" I knew what they did for a living, besides the average cubicle or part-time wage job. Gotta hear it from them first, right?

"Kitchenware, is that the correct word for them?" Louisa took a pot from Gabi, who had just brought it in. "You know, crockery, spatulas, and cacerola, what's the word in English?"

"It's a casserole, mama," Gabi replied just before she took her position behind a chair next to me.

"I think I get the idea."

"Ah yes, casserole. My husband sells them, I design them, and Jovi and Gabi help with the paperwork," Louisa explained.

"It's tiring work what we do," Antonio added. He peered to his left and the moment Tino joined us in the dining room, he grinned. "That's much better. Let's join hands and say grace, shall we?"

I was reluctant at first. Whenever I said grace, or used to back in the day, we never held hands. At least in my clan within the clan anyway, none of us were comfortable with it. Not holding hands would show disrespect, so I held hands with Tino and Gabi. After a few words in Spanish followed by an amen, we sat down and began dinner. As I sat and ate there, I tried my best to contain my cries of pain from eating spicy food. Believe me, it was delicious, but the intense heat from it was too much for me to handle.

"Are you okay?" Gabi had noticed that my face wasn't, well, normal. Probably saw my face turn pale. "I hope there's nothing wrong with the food. I helped mom cook it by the way."

"It's great. No offense, but it's a little spicy for my tastes."

"We should take a break from eating," Antonio suggested. He placed his utensils–yes, that's the word, utensils–to the side of his plate. "So, Lena, please tell us more about yourself."

I should've turned down the dinner invitation at the last minute. "I know I'm the guest here, but you first." Rude? Yes, but I honestly don't know how to answer these questions.

Antonio frowned, but nonetheless answered. "I have a sister who's also named Lena, Elena to be exact. Same name, different cultures. You're not from a Spanish-speaking country, nor do you speak the language. At the same time, you're not from an English-speaking one. Where are you from?"

Where I'm from usually was the hard question to answer. The thing is vampires pretty much identify with the country they estimate their village was at the time of their birth. Humans don't recognize vampire as an ethnic group, let alone vampires have their own ways of dividing territory. It's a pain getting a passport when the Ottoman Empire doesn't exist, or the tiny town of your birth amalgamated into a bigger town. The same went for decimated towns. Don't get me started on towns sharing the border of two countries. And with good ol' Eastern Europe having one of the highest vampire populations, you'd think human populations would've dwindled by now. "I'm from the Metropolis, but my parents are from Eastern Europe. They wanted me to speak English like the other kids in school, but I still ended up with this accent." I'd hoped that kept them from digging deeper, but that didn't.

"Eastern Europe? I'd figure you'd come from somewhere ... north. Would you like some wine?" Antonio held up a bottle of red wine brewed around the time of his grandfather. While I wasn't opposed to the drink, I had concerns I would loosen up with just a sip.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I need to be sober for tonight. Picking up someone from a party."

The parents and older kids discussed something in Spanish and from what I gathered they mentioned the wine. Then they mentioned something about religion. Or that's what I assumed when Louisa said dios. As I sat there, my stomach churned with indigestion. Throwing up food would have convinced them I eat nothing but blood.

I looked at Tino who wasn't happy with what was happening. He wanted to say something, but had trouble getting a word in. "Go on," I whispered to him. "Tell them."

Tino, whose eyes were glazed, not that I meant to hypnotize him into doing anything, rose from his seat. "That's not true! That's not true! Vampires aren't evil!"

A sudden silence permeated the room; a spoon clattering onto a dish sounded with the intensity of a mallet hitting a gong.

"Tino's been watching Young Dracula again," Jovi muttered.

"Tino, your grandfather died protecting our family and our hometown from vampires," Louisa reminded the boy with a condescending tone.

"A vampire saved my life and instead of letting him live you killed him. He wasn't evil!"

"It would have killed you, Tino," Antonio supported his wife. "It made sure no one else got to you so it could kill you."

"The whole reason you invited Lena and her friend over is because you weren't sure if either one of them is a vampire. Lena isn't. She arrived while the sun's still out. She's Christian, but not our Christian. Yes, she has red hair and speaks with a strange accent, but that doesn't make her one. Even if she took the wine, it wouldn't have done what you'd hope it'd do."

"That's enough, Tino!" Antonio stood up. "Recant your words and after you honestly say those weren't yours, you pray to God for His forgiveness."

"I hate this family! I hate you all!" Tino stormed out of the room quickly and twice escaped the clutches of his brother and dad. He darted up the stairs to his bedroom with his family following him, yelling in Spanish. Poor kid!

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Ah 10 year old angst! Also you have concerned parents who want to make sure their kid's safe. I'm sure there were times when you wanted to do something but mom and dad said no. Were they right when they said no? Or were they wrong (in your opinion of course)?

If you're still reading this that's awesome! Maybe you'd like to show some support by leaving a comment (or hitting that star if you want to do that too)?

Edited: 01/03/2021