Predators of the first order

I have four older brothers. Max, Andy, Aaron and Val. I’m the last of my parents brood. All will be here for Thanksgiving.

Last night Max and Val showed up. Max was exhausted from work. He is one of those Vampires who make sure the rest of us are safe. He belongs to what is the equivalent to Vampire special forces. He goes after the bad, the evil, the weird and other unsavory dangerous things. Yes, he is one of those dark brooding Vampires who look like the handsome sexy beast on the cover of a paranormal romance novel. Val just looks like a normal cute guy.

The night before Max and his partners had found a stash of almost 50 Vampire fangs along with a dozen hearts suspended in alcohol. A dozen vials of Vampire blood were in a large refrigerator. The vilest thing was the skin of a Werewolf – half wolf, half woman. She was caught in transition. It would have brought millions. All of the items would go for a fortune to some sick and twisted collector or worse to some hack who fancied himself a mad scientists. There were other artifacts that had been taken such as drivers licenses, social security cards, bone china tea cups, embroidered crazy quilts and other personal belongings.

I asked Max if he knew who the hearts and fangs and the Werewolf pelt belonged to. He said his forensics team was working on it.

He mentioned that there was also a small stash of tiger parts and a live Tasmanian devil in a filthy cage.

“They wouldn’t have been able to do anything with the blood or any of the parts. They don’t realize that drinking or injecting Vampire blood won’t turn one into a Vampire,” Max said in disgust.

I could hear him on the phone talking to Mehitabel, a girl he refused to give his heart to, a girl he couldn’t get out of his mind. She had come upon the horrific stash with him. She’d been the one to track down the culprits and bring them to justice. I could catch a few bits from my brother’s low quiet voice. She was spending Thanksgiving with her family group, mostly friends who shared ways more ancient than our own. He spoke of the dead, the living and the undead in reverence. He talked of how he wanted to see her and touch her… and I stopped listening. It wasn’t my conversation to hear.

I went into the living room to find Val looking out the window at the rain. We’ve been in the midst of a major drought so rain is a beautiful and wonderful thing we rejoice at. I put my arm around his waist and pulled him close. “Hang on to your teeth,” I said.

Max came into the room and stood close putting his arm around my shoulder. He told us that the pelt of the Werewolf had been burned with honor. The souls of the woman and the wolf had been released. The Vampire and tiger parts were being sorted out. The Tasmanian Devil was given to a zoo who would honor it and treat it with dignity.

We could hear my teens and their friends upstairs laughing. Then the music went louder and there was a lot of noise from their jumping and more laughing. Young Vampires, or young adults anywhere. Nobody should have to worry about being captured and taken apart or otherwise harmed. The things humans do to each other or those who are different is unbelievably evil.

Of course we’re Vampires, predators of the first order, but we respect where our food comes from. We respect our friends and life of all kinds. At least those who follow our culture and ways. We’ve built our ways around respect, or at least tried to. It isn’t easy but it is right.  Yes, we’re scary to some, but so it the little Tasmanian devil Max found in the cage. So is a rattlesnake or a wolf or a grizzly bear or black widow spider.

That said, we laughed at the funny stuff coming from the room upstairs. We remembered when we were young in a house full of young friends and nonstop noise and laughter.

This week will be a time of family, friends and relaxed joy. The rain brings wonder. Love brings us together.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

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