Dinner with the Family

During the time when Michael finally got permission to invite his friend over, when William was just finishing cooking everyone dinner, and when the late afternoon came to be—Zariah was parked in front of her gigantic PC, neon lights aglow in her dimly-lit room, her headset on, and her vape pinned between two fingers, gesturing with it while she spoke to everyone who was watching her livestream. She wasn’t hosting a Q&A or taking callers; she was simply talking, and answering whatever questions popped up in her chat.

“When am I gonna stream from a graveyard again?” Zariah read off the screen, making a shrug. “I’unno… I kinda stopped going out and looking for ghosts at night, because I’m kinda leaning toward the belief that ghosts don’t actually exist now. Some of you guys might not like me saying this, but… I genuinely believe that ghosts are actually demons in disguise. I mean, think about it… why would a dead loved one want to come back and torment you? It’s kinda stupid…”

She leaned forward, squinting at the chat room and inhaling from her vape, allowing the vapor to waft out of her nose.

The chat room of her livestream currently read;

The_WayWard_Hobo : u should play another horror game
commonhampster : When will you do another stream where you take calls?
PopsicleLove69 : you look so pretty today!!!
JichaelMackson : Hello! I am new here. My friend recommended you to me! Is that a Villy V poster behind you?
XxElviraxX : hey sis! Haven’t seen you much this week!
PostMaloner420 : do you believe in anointing a house?
TheRadioDemon : Don’t forget to smile. J
tatergrandpa1976 : good to see you young lady
LittleJuliasCaesars : What’s this? ZellaPI streaming in the afternoon again? It’s a miracle!

Zariah read them all and instantly broke into her commentator voice, a manner of speaking that was a little faster and higher-energy than her usual self.

“Yeap! I will play something scary in October. I don’t know when I’m gonna take calls again, but thank you, Popsicle! Yes, that is a Villy V poster—I’m a huge freaking fan of his—and hi, Elvira! Sorry! I’ve been a little bit busier this week than normal! I don’t know if I believe in anointing a house, because I’ve never tried it—but that’s definitely something to look into. I am smiling, demon boy—and good to see you too, Grandpa! I knooow , I haven’t been streaming very much in the late afternoon—but it’s because I made a friend! You guys want me to be happy, right? Let me haaave this!”

Zariah let out a breath and swiveled slightly in her chair, leaning back and taking another puff from her vape as the chat began to fill with new messages again.

She exhaled a vapor cloud, waited for a second, then leaned forward to read them.

The chat now appeared;

PopsicleLove69 : ur welcome!
commonhampster : I agree with whoever said you should do outside streams at night again. Those were the best
TheRadioDemon : ^ same.
tatergrandpa1976 : glad you are doing well
XxElviraxX : Well… if you don’t believe in ghost-hunting, then what about demon-hunting?
FookMeDed : YES
TheRadioDemon : @XxElviraxX I resent that.
LittleJuliasCaesars : Ooo… I love that idea. How would you do that? Just go around town and start exorcizing possessed people? Handing out deliverance like a Little Caesar’s pizza? Only five dollars.
XxElviraxX : @TheRadioDemon not you… OTHER ones.
PostMaloner420 : I would genuinely donate just to see you go demon-hunting… no joke

Zariah stared at the screen, her mouth drifting agape, then she choked out a laugh and responded.

“Okay… first of all, Julias, Little Caesar’s hasn’t had the five-dollar pizza for years , dude. Let it go. Second of all… I know everybody misses the outside streams at night, but I have no idea how I would go demon-hunting. I don’t know how to deliver people from demons… and I wouldn’t even know where to find any. I have literally no leads whatsoev…”

Then, she suddenly trailed off, glancing down as a memory returned to her as if from nowhere.

She suddenly recalled that night at Rock Rollers—the night that she and Michael had gone upstairs, standing in the doorway, only to find Zander engaged in a violent fight with a few other people, including her own ex-boyfriend. She remembered walking up the stairs with Michael that night, both of them approaching the suite—and she remembered hearing yelling, something about ‘demon voodoo fuck shit.’ Yes, she recalled hearing Zander Voltaire say that very phrase to Adrian that night—just before the fight broke out.

Zariah stared thoughtfully at the edge of her desk for a long, quiet moment. She’d never thought about it before—never gone out searching for people who were demon-possessed before—but she truly believed and invested in all of the information in that book, the Supernatural Paradigm, and it specifically mentioned the way the Demon Class worked. It was not like the other classes; it was a more metaphysical one, a more ethereal one, one that infected ordinary people like poison to a wound, slowly overtaking them in a manner reminiscent of a parasite. Countless people in the world were affected by it—but, according to the author, Victoria Voltaire, only a select few people afflicted by the demons were fully possessed by them, granted powers of evil and darkness.

And if all of that was true…

“Holy crap,” Zariah breathed, several things connecting together in her mind all at once.

Her father—a detective who was deeply investigating the local crime syndicate—had named that particular gang. They were called the Legion—which was precisely how demons referred to themselves in the Bible.

Zander had fought with Adrian that night—Adrian being someone who regularly dealt with the crime syndicate in order to get his fix—and the younger son of the Voltaire family specifically mentioned demon voodoo during that altercation.

That shadowy gang in town—which she’d never spared a second thought before now—was dominated by demons.

So—it seemed that if Zariah ever did want to investigate the matters of the Demon Class—then she had a perfect opportunity to do so, right here in Hailview.

A spark of excitement ignited inside her, and her eyes traveled back up to the screen, flashing a smirk and gently fidgeting with the big silvery cross around her neck.

Just when she opened her mouth to speak on this—her phone made a ping .

Zariah grabbed it and swiped the screen, seeing a text from Michael. It read;

Hey… Mom just gave me the okay for dinner! And I think Will is just about done cooking. Wanna come over?

Zariah’s mouth eased open, another jolt of excitement spiraling up and down her like lightning. It took her a moment to get her bearings, and to remember that she was hosting a busy livestream; her head was spinning with new ideas, the gang in town, how she could investigate them, if she would record it or livestream it, if she would read up on the proper way to perform deliverance beforehand—and now, she couldn’t help but smile at the idea of being invited into Voltaire Manor, that mysterious, isolated, and off-limits place that had been sitting alone on the hillside for so many years.

All of a sudden, that forbidden place was welcoming her in, after the Voltaire family hadn’t allowed anyone else into their lives for decades. She’d wanted all of her life to meet Villy V and his family—and to see real, genuine vampires for the first time—and now, it was finally coming to be.

Zariah looked to her computer and started to speak, almost blurting out the news—but she quickly silenced herself, sighing and shaking her head once.

She’d waited for so long to give such amazing content to her audience, and to take them on a supernatural journey with her—she positively lived for it—but mentioning the Voltaires on her online platform simply felt wrong to do. That family was incredibly secretive and private, and they were for a reason—for their own protection. The very last thing she wanted to do was compromise their safety and security. Besides, she had already promised Michael that she wouldn’t mention anything sensitive about them to her audience online, and she certainly didn’t want to break her promise to him.

She wondered if mentioning her befriending them and having dinner with them would actually break that promise—but she decided not to risk it for now. She would ask Michael about it later. For the time being, no one needed to know a thing about her connection to the family Voltaire.

However—her revelation about the Demon Class was another story entirely. She couldn’t think of any reason at all not to mention that, so long as she kept certain details of it vague.

“Okay…” Zariah started, setting her phone down. “First of all, everyone… I just got a message from my friend… and I have somewhere to be, so I’m gonna have to wrap this up. But, second of all… before I do that… guess what.”

She leaned slightly closer, gazing into her webcam intensely.

“Thank you… for mentioning the demon-hunting idea… because it just made me realize something insane ,” Zariah said to them all. “I think… there just might be a whole operation of people in this town who belong to the Demon Class… and if I go out and do those IRL investigation streams again, then you can bet that’s what I’m gonna be focusing on. I’ll talk more about that some other time… but, for now, I have to go meet with my friend. So… until next time. Love y’all! Byeee!”

She said her farewells to her viewers, then opened her streaming software and ended the broadcast, slumping back in her chair and running her hands down her face.

Zariah gazed up at her ceiling thoughtfully for a moment before she slid her phone off the desk and typed out a reply to Michael. Her text read;

Yeah! I’ll leave here in a sec. Meet me at the gate?

Then, she placed her phone on her stomach, sighed heavily, and spared another moment to stare up at the ceiling, her colorful streamlined lights coasting along the corners of the walls in her lowly-lit room, her eyes mindlessly following the lights as she pondered on it all. The thought of investigating such a dangerous thing wasn’t exactly terrifying to her—she’d been around those criminal types a lot in her life, and she even dated one—but it was enough to inject a bit of nervousness into the pit of her stomach. Being around those types of people was one thing—but doing something that could directly provoke or upset them was quite another.

Still—it definitely seemed worth doing.

Ping.

Zariah checked her phone again, and Michael’s text read;

Sure! Seeya in a few.

Nodding, she stuffed the phone into the pocket of her open hoodie, peeling off her headset, standing, and taking a deep breath. She felt a bit anxious, although thoroughly delighted, and she started out of the room—pausing and reaching back to her desk to grab her dangly bat-shaped earrings.

After stopping in the bathroom, putting the earrings in, and looking herself up and down—she left the house, locked the door, and climbed into her car, powering it on and driving up the elongated driveway, the light in the overcast sky gradually diminishing as the early evening arrived.

Zariah drove onto the road and ventured toward the edge of the expansive driveway of Voltaire Manor, gazing out the windshield at it and inhaling deeply again before cruising forward and creeping toward the front gate.

Her car stopped just in front of it—and Michael stood there, just on the other side of the bars, his arms behind his back, and a welcoming smile on his face. He gave her a wave, then flourished his wrist at the gate—and it began to open.

Zariah watched as the gate parted in the center, creaking open and allowing her to enter. Michael stepped aside, and she drove onto the property, slowly and cautiously, spotting a black Lincoln parked in a gravel patch to the right of the mansion, so she pulled the car to a stop beside it, switching the engine off and pocketing her keys.

When she emerged from the car and swung the door shut, she smelled a hint of rain on the air, and Michael approached her.

“Hey… um…” Zariah uttered, facing him and swiping her bangs aside. “Just so I’m prepared ahead of time… is your brother gonna bite my head off for being here?”

Michael opened his mouth, then paused and made a quizzical face. “Y’know… I have no idea. But I’ll shut him down if he does. Don’t worry.”

Zariah narrowed her eyes skeptically at him. “Does he… does he know I’m here…?”

“No,” Michael shrugged. “I don’t think anybody does… except my mother.”

Zariah stared, then choked out a laugh. “Oh, good…”

“Don’t worry about it. My mom said it’s fine,” Michael assured, turning and starting toward the front doors. “And what she says pretty much goes for everyone.”

Zariah nodded and followed him.

They marched onto the concrete stairs, and Michael pushed the doors open, taking a swift side-step and gesturing for her to enter. Zariah stepped past him, walking into the home and pausing to glance around at the enormity of the entry room.

Then, Michael pulled the doors shut and waved for her to follow, leading her to the back hallway toward the dining room. Zariah trailed after him, her eyes coasting along the walls, from the lit sconces to the large family portraits, feeling as if she’d just walked into a haunted mansion game.

The biggest and most eye-catching family portrait on the wall of the back hall was a humongous one in between two double-armed sconces, depicting Rose sitting on a lush crimson armchair, holding an infant Verity in her arms, a young Zander standing on one side of the chair, and a slightly older Michael on the other side, Orville standing tall behind the chair with his hands placed on the back of it. Rose wore an elegant black and red dress, her two sons dressed in black suits, and her baby swaddled in a linen blanket. Orville looked the most recognizable—with a sleek black overcoat, round crimson sunglasses with tiny perched bat wings on either lens, and with long black hair, his pointer fingers quipped with large, pointed gauntlet rings of a silver and stylish design.

Zariah stopped for a second to admire the portrait, then quickly resumed her pace behind Michael.

The two of them arrived at the double-doors of the dining room, and Michael pushed them open—revealing the long, comfortable room where his family was already seated, and William was placing platters of food on the table from his cart.

The butler looked up, arching his brow at the sight of the new arrival. He instantly looked to the parents of the household, wondering if they were aware.

Orville was seated at the head of the table, his back facing the doors—but Rose was looking to the side, smiling calmly at Michael and Zariah as if nothing was awry.

William noticed this, then turned to Michael and offered him a smile, gesturing to the empty seat just in front of him.

“I don’t believe anyone usually sits in the one right beside yours, Master Michael,” William said, patting the top of the chair. “I presume your guest will be fine right here.”

At hearing the word guest, Verity and Zander—who were both staring down at a magazine and fidgeting with a walk-man-instantly looked up, spotting the new person in the room. The two of them stared at Zariah for a few seconds, and an air of tension overtook the atmosphere.

Zariah attempted a smile and gave them a single wave, her nervousness seeming to amplify inside.

Verity stared at her open-mouthed, then looked to her mother.

“Ah… who is she?” the teenager muttered.

“She is Michael’s friend,” Rose informed everyone. “And we’ve invited her over for dinner… so you’d all better be on your best behavior.”

Then, the mother stood from her seat, stepping over to Zariah and offering her hand.

“Rose Voltaire,” she introduced.

“Oh… hi, I’m Zariah Knightingale,” Zariah replied, returning her handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you, dear,” Rose said politely, turning and motioning over to the two empty chairs across from her own. “Please, have a seat… and help yourself to anything that you like, aside from Villy’s gravy. I don’t think you’d really care for it. He has a bit of a unique taste in gravy.”

Zariah nodded in agreement, she and Michael moving over to their seats.

Michael chose the seat between Zariah and Zander rather than his usual spot, leaving Zariah to sit in between Orville and Michael, Rose returning to her regular chair.

There was another heavy silence.

Verity’s eyes were lingering on Zariah, looking just a bit confused, but Zander was glaring down the table at her with a harder stare, his expression stoic and unreadable.

Orville began helping himself to his mashed potatoes and special gravy, as he did most nights, and Michael placed two plates in front of Zariah and himself. Then, he glanced to the side and caught Zander’s lingering glare, shooting him a look and returning his leer until he finally looked away.

Zariah spared a glimpse to the left, watching as Orville Voltaire prepared himself a plate of food nonchalantly, looking as if he hadn’t even noticed her at the table.

Rose was staring over at the father as well, raising her thin brows at him. “Villy… darling… we have company.”

“Mhm… I know,” Orville mumbled, making a brief, lazy wave in Zariah’s general direction without looking away from his food. “Welcome to the haunted mansion…”

Zariah breathed out a laugh, another rush of gleeful nervousness flooding through her. “Thank you…”

“Ohmigod… I love your hair,” Verity remarked, her eyes trained on the streak of white in Zariah’s hairs. “How d’you get it to look like that…?”

“It’s hair dye, sweetheart,” Rose informed.

“Well…” Zariah shrugged and made a halfhearted nod. “It is when most people have streaks… but I never dyed mine…”

Orville set his spoon of mashed potatoes down against his plate, making it clank loudly. He stared over at Zariah, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“Y’never dyed it?” he asked.

Zariah faced him and shook her head.

Orville eyed her from behind his sunglasses for a second longer, then returned his attention to his plate. “Hm…”

Michael stabbed a fork into one of the many chicken thighs on the main platter in the center of the table, placing it on his plate alongside his potatoes and green beans. Then, he looked to Zariah, who still hadn’t made her plate.

“What do you want?” he whispered to her.

Zariah turned to him. “Oh, just… I don’t know… chicken.”

Michael nodded and placed a chicken thigh on her plate, and the two of them murmured back and forth about what else she wanted. Rose gazed across the table at them fixedly for a moment before she started eating, and Zander ate without speaking, Verity still ogling Zariah’s hair with fascination. William fashioned his own plate and sat down once he had delivered everything, like usual, and for a long, quiet moment, everyone was eating in a rather thick silence, broken only by the steady, gentle sprinkle of rainfall outside, which was slowly evolving into a harder, heavier downpour.

Orville scooped up a massive mound of mashed potatoes slathered in his thick reddish gravy, eating the whole thing in one bite before glancing over at the newcomer again.

“So where’d you meet’er?” the father asked, gesturing to his oldest son with his spoon.

Michael ate a bite of his chicken before he neatly wiped his mouth with his napkin and answered. “Over by the bridge… past the driveway, and the hill.”

“Yeah… that’s kinda near my house,” Zariah added.

“What were you doin’ over there?” Orville muttered.

Michael and Zariah exchanged faces.

“Ah… well,” Michael began, scratching his cheek. “I went into town to find Zander, and somebody told me he’d probably be at the club… but that place wasn’t gonna be open until the late afternoon, so… I was just gonna go to that big tree past the bridge and wait in the shade until the time came…”

“Why didn’ya come back home…?” Orville wondered, taking another large bite. “Y’coulda waited here, y’know.”

Michael looked down, biting his lip for a second. “Well, I… I didn’t know for sure if you guys would let me go back out. Besides, I was kind of… not… okay…”

He trailed off, avoiding everyone’s eyes—as Rose and Orville were both staring fixedly at him now.

“Whadd’ya mean?” Orville asked.

“What happened, Michael?” Rose inquired seriously.

Michael sighed, reluctantly facing them again and leaning on the table. “Okay, just… keep in mind… I was outside for a while before this happened, and I’ve never really had the chance to get used to the sun before, so… I…”

Zander let out a scoffing sort of laugh as he picked at the green beans on his plate.

Everyone turned and stared at him.

Zander raised his head, meeting their eyes and smirking as he took a bite of the beans.

“He passed out,” the younger brother stated, jabbing his fork over at Michael. “Amateur.”

“Shut up,” Verity griped at him, scooting farther under the table and kicking him in the shin. “At least he left the house for a good reason , Zander. What did you leave for?!”

“God… fucking… dammit , VV,” Zander hissed, hunching over and scowling at her as he rubbed his leg. “If you keep fucking kicking me, I swear to God…”

“Don’t swear to God in this house,” Rose said sharply. “God has been very good to us… and beyond that… we have a devout Christian among us tonight. Show respect.”

Zariah was just about to take her first bite of chicken when she fell still, gazing across the table at Rose in confusion.

Rose caught her lingering stare, nodding once at the big silver cross hanging around her neck. “Your cross, dear. It’s a bit of a giveaway. Might I ask… why did you bring that here, exactly? Were you looking to test it on a vampire?”

Zariah looked down at it, then back at the mother.

Everyone else in the room fell suddenly deathly silent, looking between Rose and Zariah as another wave of tension took over the room.

“ Mom …!” Verity whisper-yelled at Rose, ogling her in shock. “Why would you say that right in front of—”

“Oh… calm down, dear. I believe this young woman already knows what we are,” Rose stated, turning her attention back to Zariah. “And Michael didn’t even have to tell her.”

Once more, everybody went quiet, and all eyes seemed to be locked onto Zariah now. The only person in the room who continued eating was Orville.

“Mom,” Michael said intently, giving his mother a look.

“Hush,” Rose requested, intertwining her fingers, leaning forward, and meeting Zariah’s eyes. “Now… I really do hate to put you on the spot, dear… but I need to know what your intentions are with my family.”

Zariah slowly opened her mouth, her mind racing, piecing together everything she needed to say.

“Okay… well… no, I didn’t bring it here because of that,” she started, slightly raising her cross. “It’s a keepsake from my mom before she died… and there’s definitely no part of me that thought it would hurt anybody here. The Supernatural Paradigm explains everything that vampires are actually kind of weak to… and crosses aren’t one of them. My intentions aren’t anything negative. My intentions are basically just… interest, curiosity, and… mainly… keeping the friend I made.”

Everything went silent again.

Zariah swallowed a sigh, returning Rose’s stare and feeling anxious, her cheeks flushing slightly, as she was able to feel Michael’s lingering eyes on her. In fact—Orville was now staring over at her as well.

“Mmm… the Supernatural Paradigm,” Orville mumbled, scooping up another helping of gravy-drenched potatoes. “There’s somethin’ I haven’t heard in a while…”

“She’s well-read in your mother’s book, Villy,” Rose commented, nodding once at Zariah. “Bit of a surprise. I didn’t know there were any copies of that book still floating around out in the world… outside of here , anyway…”

“Yeah… it’s a pretty old copy. My mom had it her whole life. She was kind of obsessed with it,” Zariah informed. “And she definitely got me into it, too…”

Rose remained perched upright in her chair, her hands still clasped together atop the table, and her expression thoughtful and curious as she eyed Zariah with intrigue.

“And, your interest in all of this is… purely… personal?” the mother tried to determine. “Nobody instructed you to become close with my son…?”

Before Zariah could answer—someone else spoke.

“For God’s sake , Mom—she dragged me off the bridge and helped me before she even know who I was ,” Michael said flatly, planting a hand to the table. “ No , nobody told her to make friends with me—she just did .”

Yet again, another heavy silence fell, this one even longer, everyone’s eyes shifting between Rose and Michael.

“Whoa,” Verity breathed very quietly.

Everyone felt a touch shocked that Michael had raised his voice at his mother—as he was usually the only one of the three Voltaire children who never did.

Rose narrowed her eyes slightly, giving Zariah another quizzical look. “You really just saw some poor fallen-out stranger and decided to take pity on him?”

Zariah didn’t say a word, swallowing and managing a nod.

Rose continued to stare for a moment longer. Then, she glanced over at Orville, smiled, and patted him on the arm.

“Well… that sounds familiar,” she remarked.

Orville, who had just taken another bite, glimpsed at his wife before looking back down at his food. “Oh, fuck off…”

Rose chuckled, leaning back in her seat and looking far more relaxed all the sudden.

“I think that’s all I need to know, then,” the mother disclosed, giving Zariah a smile. “Welcome to the family, dear.”

Zariah resisted the urge to let out an audible breath of relief, glad that the spotlight could finally move away from her.

“And you can stop being so overprotective , Michael,” Rose added, shooting him a peculiar little squint. “I’ve got the picture… so you can enjoy your dinner with your girlfriend.”

“Mom,” Michael sighed, rolling his eyes and giving her a look of disdain. “Please…”

Rose maintained her grin, then lifted her fork and continued eating as if nothing had happened at all.

“So… what time we leavin’ tomorrow?” Zander asked.

“First thing in the morning,” Verity shrugged.

“No… not first thing in the morning,” Zander argued. “The club won’t even be open until four.”

“We’re not just going to the club , Zander,” Verity quipped.

“The hell we’re not,” Zander griped.

“Hey… I’ll tell you what,” Michael chimed in, lifting his spoon at them. “Seeing as how I’m in charge… we’re gonna leave when I feel like leaving. M’kay?”

Verity shot him a snarky face, Zander looking as if he was seething, and trying his best not to have an outburst. He stabbed his fork loudly into his plate, penetrating more unsuspecting green beans before devouring them.

William’s eyes ventured around the others, flashing a smirk as he ate in silence.

Everyone at the table finished their dinners relatively quietly from then on.