‘Quit being stupid,’ I told myself taking a deep breath, ‘You are just being a good neighbor.’ Still, I was not a good self-listener, introducing myself to other people always gave me chills, I am not sure why. I am not shy, I like meeting new people, I am just not very comfortable with making the first move. I wiped my free hand in my jeans -more out of nervousness than because it needed cleaning- and straightened up a lock that had fallen over my eye before ringing the doorbell.‘What can happen?’ I thought. Would I had known everything that was going to happen, I might have never knocked that door.  

 

You know how you think that something that has a 0.001% chance of happening never will? Specially not to you? Yes, that is what I thought too! But, boy I was wrong!

 

I was excited that Saturday when I saw the moving truck pull over and men unload furniture into the house with the “sold” sign. The house beside mine had been vacated for a while and I was relieved to see someone moving into it. It is bad for real state to have vacant houses around you, not that I am planning to sell my house anyway. But, it is always nice to have decent neighbors, just in case you need a cup of sugar or, in this case, someone to fight for you against the Leader of the San Francisco Vampire Covent to save your teenage son. Still, at that point, I knew nothing about Vampires, Werewolves, Fae, or Witches other than what I had read in one, or two, or, OK, several romantic novels -Hey! Don’t judge, I know you like them too-.  

 

That is how I found myself the next day in-front of Colin’s door. A tray of cookies and a welcome card with my name and phone number in my hand. Had I known that the handsomest single guy in San Francisco was going to move right beside me, I would have used the time I spent baking, trying to look casually radiant, like I woke up every morning looking like Jessica Alba and brought a bottle of champagne, or better yet, Vodka, to get him drunk and take advantage of him. But, I didn’t know, so I was just wearing a pair of jeans and a fleece sweatshirt that was loose enough to do nothing for my curves. Benji had refused to come with me and stayed home brooding which ended up being a good thing, startlingly good-looking single guys usually don’t get uber excited when they find out you have a sulky teenage son. Not that I could hide it for long, but at least, I could try to make a good first impression.

 

Colin asked who was it and I announced myself as Leah Robins, the neighbor. He hesitated for a while, peering into the peephole, it was a pretty safe area in a pretty safe city, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful with the cookie baring neighbors! I guess eventually my five-feet-tall, hundred-pound self was considered safe enough because I heard him dealing with bolts and chains before  the door finally opened. He stood right at the door opening, his body somehow managing to occupy every inch of the space between the door and the frame. He looked at me and gave a whiff, which I thought was the strangest thing ever, but it is amazing what you can get away with when you look like your DNA nucleotide sequence spells p-e-r-f-e-c-t.  In his dirty jeans and dust specked white t-shirt he looked like Adonis in a construction commercial. His hair was dark, almost black, sporting one of those timeless haircuts, short on the sides and medium length on the top and right now was messy, with several strands falling on his forehead. His disheveled appearance made me guess he was unpacking. He had a square face with high cheekbones. Combined with his straight nose and his long forehead he looked like one of god’s forgotten angels, but his sexy, devilish grin and piercing cobalt blue eyes made you forget about anything sacred or innocent. He was just average height and even if not very broad, had an athletic built and enough muscles to shape his t-shirt without being overly bulky.  

 

Still, as it is, I am not half bad myself. I am not stunning, yet I would probably be around the seventieth percentile if they ranked beauty.  And a seven is a passing mark almost everywhere, right?  Of course,  Colin was an eleven, but I was hoping not all that good at math. Even in my mid-thirties, I still look in my early twenties, I attribute that in part to good genes, but mostly because I am so petite it hurts.  If I knew my origins, I could claim them, but as it is, I am as American as you could. Which is to say, as American as any mixed european would be. My light brown, wavy hair is my pride and joy- After my son, of course- lush and shiny, it usually hangs with beautiful curls up to the middle of my back.  Natural and not-so-natural subtle golden highlights glisten with the sun. My big soulful almond eyes complement my long, oval face and my thin, small, straight nose make sure that my full lips don’t overwhelm my petite features.

 

“Hi!” I managed to get myself talking, “I live next door,” I pointed at my house, trying my best to look charming, “I saw the moving truck yesterday and decided to come welcome my new neighbor.” I offered him the cookies and the card.

 

“Ohh … thanks!” he said surprised, smelling the cookies with intent, “chocolate chip, yum,” he smiled, not a cocky and seductive grin as I would have expected, but and unpretentious and genuine smile. “I am not your new neighbor, though.” I hoped my disappointment didn’t show too much. “I mean, my boss bought this house, I am here while they are renovating it. I needed a place and he needed someone to check on the contractors.” he explained wiping his hands on his jeans and offering me one in greeting. The hole between him and the door grew by a meager inch. “I am Colin, Colin Erickson, nice to meet you Leah.”

 

“Nice to meet you too, Colin. My number is in the card, if you need anything, let me know.” I said, trying to think of an awesome comeback, but I thought ‘Please call me’ did not catalogued as one. “Is your boss moving in when they finish the house?”

 

He smiled again, “I don’t think so. It appeared that this house was a good investment.”

 

“Oh, so you are in Real State? You flip houses?”  

 

He laughed this time and I wondered why that was funny. “No, my boss just has a team of people finding him good investment opportunities. He just likes to make money, I guess,” he shrugged and managed to look like a shampoo commercial as he removed the loose strands of hair from his forehead. “Do you live alone?” He asked.

 

And there went the bombshell, “No, with my son.” I was not going to lie and he was going to see him anyway, it is not like I can hide Benji.

 

“No roommate? Husband? Boyfriend?” he asked. I felt a tingle of pride, he showed interest! I shook my head emphatically. I swear I heard him mumble “A co-worker then.”

 

“Sorry?” I asked confused.

 

“Nothing,” he shook his head, putting the hands in his pockets and lifting his shoulders as if he was shy and mildly embarrassed. I couldn’t help thinking that he looked cute. I never expected someone who looked like him could be bashful. He was silent for a while, looking as if he was waiting for me to say something. I scrambled my head for a topic, but the longer it passed, the more I stressed and the less I could think of something. “Thanks for the cookies, Leah. I guess I’ll see you around,” he said eventually.

 

I swore at myself and beat a retreat to my house defeated, my total lack of flirting skills: one, charming the hottest neighbor in the history of forever: zero. We live in the Outer Sunset, what some call the outskirts of San Francisco, not that San Francisco has any skirt to have outs, being so tiny. We live very near the Ocean, right where the fog never lets you see what is across the street, but houses are not as insanely expensive. I had lived in our two-story Victorian house since I was born, my parents had bought this house forty-five years ago, and aside for the year I was married to Evan when I was eighteen, I lived there my whole life.  Benji was also born in that house fifteen years ago, well, not literally, he was born in a hospital, but then we went back to that house. Evan had mysteriously disappeared the day after we conceived Benji, I was nineteen at that point, in college and broke. I needed help and my absolutely wonderful parents stepped in and took charge. I must admit that my parents were sometimes more Benji’s parents than I was. They were unable to have kids of their own and too late they decided to adopt, after they got me, they were too old to apply for another baby. So Benji was the second chance they never thought they would have and they loved every minute of it, even if most people thought they were too old to have the energy to take care of a little child. My dad died from cancer a year and a half ago and it killed my mom.  She tried to hang on, for us, but in the end, the sadness just got to her and she died a year after him. It hurt me, but it broke Benji’s heart. He was never the same. My bright, happy, cheerful, outgoing baby turned into something dark, apathetic and reclusive. Yet, I hadn’t seen him cry, not even one tear. I had sent him to a therapist, but he said it was normal, he was a teenager and his grandparents had died. Still, I kept on pushing, searching for help, despite all the negatives and Benjamin himself refusing to admit anything. A voice inside me told me that something was seriously wrong with my child and mothers, even ones that have not been as present as they should, as myself, cannot discard that sort of instincts.

 

“What do you want for dinner?” I asked throwing the keys on the hall tree to the left of the entrance door. I would probably regret it later when I’d had to spend half an hour looking for them -I normally tuck them carefully in my purse’s pocket- but my inadequacy at making small talk made me want to throw something in frustration. I turned to my right and looked at Benji who was lounging on the couch watching TV. The family room that doubled as a living room was simple and small, like every other room in the house. The flat screen TV was the only thing that gave you a clue you were on the twenty-first century. Its furniture and decoration had not changed since I was a child, given that any money that came in was put to a more necessary use. “Burger with fries or Pizza?” None of them was among my normal choices, I usually make sure we eat a healthy dinner, but they were two of his favorites and I was getting desperate, I had not seen him eat anything all weekend. A year and a half ago, he would have been out all  Saturday and Sunday with his friends, we would have to beg him to come home for dinner. Nowadays, he just spent all his time in the house, alone, watching TV, playing video games, or simply staring at the wall. To top it off, now he had added hunger strike to his ailments.   

 

He didn’t even turn to look at me, though I don’t think he was paying too much attention to the TV either. “I am OK, I am not hungry,” he said apathetic, staring at the remote.

 

“Benji,” I begged.

 

“Ben or Benjamin if you want, I am not three anymore,” he grunted, finally looking at me.

 

I took a deep breath to keep my composure, yelling at him was not going to make him act any nicer or eat. “Honey, you have not eaten anything all weekend.”

 

“I said I am not hungry,” he yelled upset. “Leave me alone.” He focused back on the TV and pumped up the volume.

 

I felt like crying. I am not much of a crier, but it was so disheartening to see my kid dying inside and not know how to help him. I was sure that if my parents were here they would know what to say, what to do to make him feel better. But me? I had no idea and anything I did to help seem to have the opposite effect because he was getting worse each week that passed.

 

Benji sighed frustrated, leaning his head on the couch and covering his face with his hands. “Don’t do that!” He uncovered his face and looked at me, apparently the TV wasn’t loud enough to capture his whole attention.

 

“Do what?” I asked confused.

 

He turned off the TV and started walking towards me. The last year had turned my little boy into a lanky man, he had grown a foot and was now over a head taller than me. His baby features had somewhat remained, but had turned more masculine and angular. His large forehead and turned-up nose were still there, but his chubby cheeks were now high cheekbones, his full lips had become firmer, his big grey eyes, just like his father’s, had become deep and troubled. And lately, he liked to keep his light brown hair in a shaggy mess. “Act as if you were doing something terrible, as if all my problems were your fault,” he said half annoyed, half guilty.

 

“I just don’t know what to do,” I answered honestly, “Whatever it is, what can I do to make it better?”

 

For a second, it seemed like he was thinking about it, like he might open up. “I am OK. I am just tired, I think I am going to bed.” He kissed my cheek, “Goodnight, mom.”

 

“I love you,” I said as I watched him go towards the stairs. He turned around and gave me the saddest look. I had to restrain myself from running and hugging him. I knew he wouldn’t appreciate that, he was a teenage boy after all.  

 

 

A week passed before I saw my new neighbor again. Benji was helping me haul the endless amount of groceries I had just bought when he came out from his house and walked straight to me.

 

“Hi!” he said bashfully, he saw me struggling with the handle of the super eco-friendly yet equally fragile paper bags. “Need help?” he turned on his smile and any hint of the sheepishness he sometimes shown disappeared into all his gorgeousness.

 

“No, my son is helping me, thanks,” I said eyeing the open door where the aforementioned teenager had just disappeared with more bags than I could have carried.

 

“I see,” he said, somewhat disappointed and I would have punched myself. He was trying to be all chevalier in my eyes and I cut him off. I was never very good at playing the damsel in distress! “This is my boss, your real neighbor. I thought you might want to meet him” I was so focused on Colin that I hadn’t realized there was a man standing behind him. He was short, he couldn’t be more than 5” 3’ and looked exactly how I would imagine a very short Italian movie star should look. Olive skin, with ageless big brown eyes covered by endless curly eyelashes and thick eyebrows. He had a triangular face and straight nose. His longish black hair flew with the wind in uneven waves. “Sal, this is Leah Robins, the woman I told you about.”

 

So, he had talked about me! I couldn’t restrain a small satisfied smile, he caught it and smiled back at me. His smile was sweet, honest and inviting. His cobalt eyes looked incapable of lying.

 

Sal gave us an amused smile, still nonetheless, interrupted our moment one more time, “Pleasure to meet you.” He didn’t look much older than twenty, but, despite that and his short stature he exuded a confidence that was unmistakable. He looked like a man used to giving orders and have those obeyed. He stretched his hand to meet mine and looked straight into my eyes. Somehow, the skin to skin and eye to eye contact felt a lot more intimate than it should have and it compelled me to give this man whatever he asked. Then, he retrieved his hand, stopped his intense gaze and smiled youthfully, looking again like a nineteen-year-old in a world of grown-ups. “Colin told me that we had the loveliest neighbor,” Colin looked away embarrassed, it reminded me of the way Benji looks when I tell things to his friends. “I can see now why,” he finished.

 

I blushed, “Well, thank you,” I gave Colin my sweetest, most seductive look, even if the compliment had come from the other man’s mouth.

 

“So, I never asked,” the taller man desperately tried to change the subject, “What do you do for a living?” He brought up the safest topic he could think of, chicken! Me: ‘lady-daring’, thought to herself. “I saw you at home a lot this week.” OK, maybe not such a coward after all, he had just admitted that he paid attention to my comes and goes.

 

“I am a marketing consultant. I work from home a lot. What do you two do?” I tried to include the other man since he was his boss, but truth be told, all I wanted was for him to disappear and leave me alone with Colin.

 

“I am a software engineer, work mostly in computers,” my real target answered modestly. It wasn’t surprising, most people in the Bay Area were engineers of a sort. Then, he pointed at the shorter man and his eyes sparkled mischievously, “He just bosses us all around.”  

 

Sal laughed, their relationship obviously transcended that of a boss and his employee, “He is just being modest. He is a genius, any electrical device practically bows down at any of his commands. We wouldn’t be able to survive without him.” I decided I liked Sal, and not only because he was trying to get Colin and I to score points with each other.

 

I laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind next time my computer acts up.”

 

“You should, anything that breaks in the house. Colin is your man,” his friend pimped him again. Colin blushed.

 

“Let me help with those,” Colin grabbed the bags that I had forgotten I was carrying.

 

“Thanks,” I said, now remembering I was trying to find excuses to get closer to this stud that seemed like a sweetheart.  

 

I was about to hand him what I was carrying plus the few bags left in the trunk of my car, when a “What is taking you so long?” interrupted us.

 

Benji came out of the house. “I put everything away already and you are still here?” Then he noticed the two strangers beside me and briskly walked towards us, one would hope to make sure I wasn’t in any mortal danger or something. He grabbed the last bags from the car, Colin was carrying the ones I had already taken out.

 

“Benji,” he glared at me, “Benjamin, I corrected myself. This is our new neighbor, Colin,” I put my hand out with my palm facing up towards the aforementioned hunk. “And this is his boss, Sal, he owns the house where Colin is living.” my other hand moved in his direction.  

 

Sal put his hand out to shake my son’s, but Colin and Benji seemed to have locked themselves in a staring contest. Colin grunted, his sweet expression totally transfixed, his honest eyes full of disgust and hostility. Seriously, who grunts at a teenager? I took back anything good I had said, or thought about Colin at that moment: nobody, and I mean nobody, looks at my kid like that. To make matter worse, the surly, bordering on belligerent teenage that  had been my son recently instead of reacting with the same outrage I felt just looked back at him in agreement, as if he was the first one to really see whatever dark thing was eating my child inside. I on the other hand, could not disagree more and was ready to smack him, but Sal stopped us all dead on our tracks. He looked up, somehow it felt like he could look at all of us in the eye simultaneously and the same compulsion to obey him I felt before rose on me.

 

“Son, go home,” his voice barely over a whisper, it sounded caring and full of compassion, but it felt like the most authoritarian order I have ever heard. Colin lowered his eyes, left the bags he was carrying on the floor and walked away without saying a word. Sal picked up the bags and gave them to Benji, after he grabbed them, he put a hand on my son’s shoulder and bore his dark eyes on his grey. My sweet boy seemed to relax, he let out a breath, his shoulders were suddenly a little lower, not so tense any more and his face lost some of its rigidity. Also, without a word, he left with all the bags and burrowed himself inside the house.

 

“You have to forgive Colin, he has some problems with his kind,” Sal talked to me now, his eyes looking at my retreating son with curiosity and perplexity “he had some bad experiences, but I assure you, I’ll make sure he behaves. I apologize, if he offended you and hope it doesn’t reflect badly on my clan.” He sounded calm and bewitching. I was as mesmerizable as any average joe, but I draw the line when it comes to people insulting my son.

 

“His kind? The teenage kind?” I asked confused and annoyed. What was he talking about? Clans? I get it, I understand most teenagers are loud and obnoxious, but from there to grunting at each one of them there was a big stretch and not one I was willing to forgive.

 

“You are a very strange woman in a very strange family,” he looked at me confused. What the hell was wrong with these people?

 

“Excuse me?” I said offended.

 

“Oh, I am sorry if I offended you,” he said and sounded apologetic, but then he topped it off with, “I mean, how did you get to live with him?”

 

I guessed him meant Benji since he was the only one I lived with and I almost beheaded the guy. Who did he think he was? “With my son? The traditional way. You know, in my clan,” I stressed the word he had use, trying to insult him, “ we bore children and then live with them, instead of dumping them.” I had given these guys several chances, but I decided at that point that my neighbors were weirdos, terribly hot weirdos, but weirdos nonetheless and that it was better to stay away from them.  

 

Then it was as if something dawned in his brain, he looked utterly surprised by whatever epiphany he had, but said, “Of course, you are right and I can see that I deeply offended you. Please, forgive me, tact is not something that runs in the male side of my family, I guess. I am not sure how I am going to make up it up to you.”

 

The next week, I tried to forget about the movie star turned into software engineer in my side-yard, which was not as hard as you would think. As the sole provider of my household in expensive San Francisco and the mother of  a teenager, I have a lot of things in my mind.  

 

I looked at my watch while I fumbled with the keys, eight o’clock at night. ‘Poor Benji, he is probably starving,’ I thought, but then I remembered my sweet child was on a no-food diet lately. Now, he would probably lie to me and said he had eaten before I got home, just to avoid a fight. Yet, when the door finally opened, it was not his eating habits that concerned me.

 

Benji stood in the living room, right outside the kitchen door. My house has one of those layouts where when you enter you have a living-room and dining room together. The tree hall and the stairs and a small half bathroom are to the left of the entrance door, the other room to the right. The TV stand separated the lounging and dining areas, behind the dining room there is a door that leads to the kitchen. And, there was where my son stood, stupefied, staring at the floor.

 

“What happened?” I asked looking at the mess under him. It wasn’t bad, he had just broken a cup, but he was looking at it as if it was the incarnation of the devil. He looked up, still dazed, and I saw that tears bathed his beautiful face. He hadn’t cry since he was a baby, not even when his grandparents died. I ran towards him, panic racing my heart. I looked at his hands to see if he was hurt, looked around, for the life of me, I could not understand what had made him so upset. “It is just a broken cup, honey, it is nothing.” I said, because I had to say something, I doubted the cup was the reason for the tears.

 

Benji looked at me, for the first time in a long time he really looked at me and opened up. “I am going insane, mom.” he choked out.

 

“What happened?” I asked again, not understanding what he meant.

 

“I broke the cup, I was just holding it and it just smashed in my hand as if I had squeezed the life out of it.” he looked at his hands confused, as if they had betrayed him somehow,  “I was just holding it.”

 

I wanted to tell him that it was nothing, it was just a cup, but he finally started to open up. As much as I wanted him to console him, I knew that if I made him feel that nothing wrong had happened, he might never tell me what was really bothering him. “ And why do you think you are going insane?” I tried instead.

 

“I am losing it, mom. I tried really hard, but I am. I can see grandma, she talks to me. I can hear what people think, food tastes weird, and now I break things just by touching them? There is something… there is a monster growing inside of me and I don’t know how to stop it,” he sobbed.

 

Forgetting the cup, I grabbed his arm soothingly and cajoled him to the couch in the family room. Once seated, I caressed his hair and instead of shying away, he leaned his head on my lap. “Everything is going to be OK, honey.” I said, looking for the right words. “We’ll figure it out.”

 

“How?” he cried.

 

“First thing Monday, I’ll make an appointment with several doctors, I am sure there is an explanation for this.” I didn’t want to think that my son was schizophrenic, but even if he was, I was certain treatments nowadays were advanced enough that he could take some pills and be all better. I hoped it was. I knew schizophrenia had a hereditary component to it, I didn’t know anything about my biological family, for all accounts, I could be the daughter of two looney bin escapees. And, I didn’t know anyone in Evan’s family with that disease, but I didn’t know everything about his family. I could ask his parents if needed it, they adored Benji as much as any grandparent should, maybe even more since they had already lost their son. I was sure they would even help with any medical bills, if  needed. “We’ll figure it out. I promise, you will be OK.”

 

“There is a monster growing inside me, mom,” He repeated.

 

“There is no monster, honey, there is nothing monstrous about you,” I turned his head so he would look at me and caressed his cheek. “You are my baby, my beautiful, perfect baby.” Instead of pulling away screaming that he was an irritable teenager, the way he should have, he just smiled at me, relieved with my comment. That, really frighten me. No fifteen year old wants to hear that from their mother, no matter how much we want to say it.

 

“You won’t leave me alone?  You won’t abandon me when the monster takes over?” His grey eyes searched for mine and stared at them intently as if he could spot a lie if I told one.

 

“Never, honey, I love you, you are the most precious thing I have. I won’t let any monster take over you, but if it does, I’ll fight it off and stay with you every second until you are OK. I promise.”

 

“I love you too, mom.” he whispered and turned to face the dining room one more time, his gaze lost in whatever thoughts were consuming him. He didn’t say anything else, nor listen to any other word that came out of my mouth, but he seemed content with his head on my lap and my fingers caressing his hair. So, I stayed there, silently reassuring him that I wouldn’t leave.

 

Eventually, he fell asleep, still on my lap, and thirty minutes later, I was ready for bed myself. So gently I woke him up and helped him into his bed. I wished I could still carry him, like when he was a child, but he had almost a foot and forty pounds on me.

 

My eyes opened abruptly and the blinking light on my alarm clocked announced 5:36. I wondered why I woke up in such a state of panic, yet my answer came a second later in the form of a loud crash. I grabbed the baseball bat that I normally have beside my bed and rushed to Benji’s bedroom. First, I’ll make sure he was fine, then, I’ll look for the source of the noise. Yet, I did not get pass the hallway that connected all three bedrooms and the one bathroom that encompassed the upstairs of my house. Benji was there, a tall thing dressed in a red robe and a matching conical hat that covered his head with only a couple of slits for the eyes was pinning him against the hallway wall. A second robed monstrosity was aiming at him with a ten inch long wooden stake while he thrashed around trying to avoid them.  

 

“Leave him alone,” I screamed trying to distract them while I got close enough to smash them with my bat. Still in my desperation and hastiness to get to my son, I missed the third red Ku-Klux-Kan-wanna-be member that was standing outside my bedroom door. He grabbed me from behind, restraining me and taking away my bat. I heard my flimsy weapon fall down the stairs as I struggled to free myself from the supernaturally strong hold that was immobilizing me. Meanwhile, Benji managed to wiggle himself free and pushed his assailant back, he stumbled and practically fell down the stairs. Still, swiftly, in a move that seemed faster than what my eyes could capture he was back up and ready to strike again. The third foe stepped forward to stab my boy, but somehow he tripped on the way and fell, stabbing his hand with the stake. I thought it was the clumsiest thing I ever saw, but who am I to complain? He swore profusely. A fourth intruder came out of Benji's bedroom. Shoot! How many were them and what did they want?

 

“Stay still,” my captor growled, I bit him with all my strength, yet he didn’t even bother to pretend he felt anything. I tried elbowing his stomach, stepping on his feet and elbowing his groin. At that point, I was able to tell that he was a man, but other than that, all my struggles were fruitless. I did the only thing I had left. I screamed for help at the top of my lungs.

 

Benji kicked Mr. Speedy and either he was light as a feather and prone to flying or my son’s strength matched that of my opponent because his assailant levitated in the air like a helium balloon.

 

I heard fighting down stairs and a few seconds later, Colin was leaping up the stairs, five steps at a time. He looked at me, his eyes glowed red and his face slightly different, his perfect features were gone and a wolfish grimace took their place.

 

"Are you OK?" He asked me, though he focused on helping Benji that was fighting three mobsters. The taller one was again pinning him against the wall, Colin grabbed his shoulders, one with each hand -that now seemed hairier than I remembered- and pulled with a herculean grunt. The big man did fly all the way down the stairs before recovering this time.

 

Benji's slate eyes now looked golden as he turned his head my way. What the frak? What was going on? Mr. Handcuff was still holding me, so I couldn't do much, but I was in a much better situation than my two companions.

 

Colin ran to the man with the stake, his hands attempting to grab the weapon, but the fourth attacker was faster and flying away with Colin before he reached his target. I watched flabbergasted as they floated in the air. Colin tried punching his opponent, yet balance was not as good as the other guy’s while suspended on top of my stairs.

 

The tall man was up the stairs before I could flinch. Benji instinctively stretched his arm out with his hand open as to fend him off. The man flew in the air and down the stairs one more time. This time the blow to his head was enough to render him unconscious.

 

The last assassin, the one with the stake, mumbled something under his breath and Benji, again, got pinned against the wall, they seemed set on using that wall as a sacrificial stone! This time though, brass manacles appeared, as if the house suddenly started growing them, two held my son's hands, two his legs. The man charged to him, stake in hand, ready to stab.

 

"Mom," Benji unable to meet the assassin's eyes, looked at me. His screamed sounded at the same time a plea for help and a 'Goodbye, I love you.'

 

“Marcus, we want him alive. He is no use to us dead!” My captor hissed.

 

Suddenly I felt a crack, as if something in me suddenly opened. Something hidden in me got free and flooded me with a strange energy.

 

"Stop!" I screamed when the murderer's hand was an inch away from my son's heart. The man flew in the air, instead of backwards to the stairs, to the right, hitting himself against the wall on the other side, he fell to the floor unconscious. I looked at Benji, whatever I did hadn't been fast enough, the stake protruded from his shoulder, oozing blood.

 

The commotion distracted the flying robed man. I heard a howl and Colin’s hand turned into a clawed deformity that was neither a hand nor a paw, he took advantage of the other man’s lack of attention to dig his fist into his stomach. They both lost altitude with such grace they practically looked like gliders.

 

The manacles disappeared when stabbing guy lost consciousness, Benji tried to remove the stake but stopped as soon as his hand touched the wood, his eyes opened wide, surprised by the sudden pain and his hands blistered.

 

"Don't touch it!" Colin advised.

 

"It burns!" My baby replied in obvious pain, sweat started to accumulate on his forehead.

I tried to break free again, desperate to help my son. This time my captor flew in the air behind me as if moved by an invisible bulldozer,  he landed far-off inside my bedroom.

 

Colin was faster than me, unnaturally fast, actually and had already removed the stake by the time I got to them.

 

His attacker, with his red robe soaked in blood, also got to them before me, I wondered how he managed to even move after getting his guts ripped apart. In a swift move that would make any good action hero green with envy, Colin swing around,  stake in his hand, and carved a hole into their attackers heart. A second later, the robe and hat fell on the floor, empty, bird man had mysteriously disappeared. He looked through the discarded clothing and withdraw something that looked like a big test tube.

 

"Vampires," I heard Colin mumbled in disgust as I came close, but ignored him, I was more concerned about my kid's health.

 

"Here, take this," he offered him the tube which was full of a red, viscous liquid. It looked disgusting, but  since I doubted he would come save him to kill him right afterwards, I did not object."It will help with the pain. You will be as good as new in a few hours."

 

"What happened?" He asked confused between gulps. The liquid must have been tastier than it looked because after the first mouthful, Benji downed the rest with gusto.

 

"Everything is OK," our savior looked at me, "I'll take you both to a safe place where all your questions will be answered.  But we need to hurry, it won't take long for them to come around. "

 

Colin shoved us into his car and drove away muttering ugly things under his breath. However, I couldn’t muster the energy to try to decipher them, argue, or start a conversation. He had saved my son from whoever was attacking him and I was not going to be anything, but grateful, I decided.  I rode shotgun while Benji, in the back seat, had fallen asleep three seconds after the car started, either the fight and wound had drained all his energy or Colin’s promise for answers had been enough to give him some of the peace he craved for months. I must have eventually fallen asleep too because the light of the day suddenly bothered me and forced my eyes open. We were driving through a dense Pine forest with clearings here and there, still the road looked paved and in good shape, so we were not in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Where are we?” I asked groggily and looked backwards to check on my son that continued to sleep peacefully.

 

“Stanislaus National Forest. We are almost there,” he promised. Even if he had fought three beasts and drove four hours in the wee of the morning, he looked as fresh as a newly washed lettuce.

 

“Where is there?” I asked. Benji might be OK with just the promise of an explanation, but I was beginning to get wary.

 

“The Alpha-lord’s house,” he replied matter-of-fact as if that would mean something to me.

 

“And who is the Alpha-lord?” I bickered frustrated. Someone had tried to murder my son, he had suddenly turned from surly teenager to Mr. Incredible, I had sprouted telekinesis, and my weirdo neighbor was Jean Claude Van Damn and talked about Alpha-lords!

 

“Sal, you met him,” then he seemed to think about it and realize how much I had no idea what was going on. “He will explain everything to you and your son,” he promised. I didn’t seem very appeased, I bet. “The Alpha lord, is the Alpha among all Alpha-beasts.” I looked at him even more confused. “He is the big head honcho of all the werewolves,” he laid it straight.

 

“Werewolves?” I asked incredulous. It was just an odd coincidence-I told you, if you add everything up, not even a one in a million chance-or maybe it was just destiny, if you believe in those things, that a werewolf moved to the house right beside ours. Not the one Benji’s dad grew in, thank god, that would have the pinnacle of weirdness. My son’s dad grew up right across the street, Colin had moved to the house to our left.

 

“Seriously? After all that happened you don’t believe me? What did you think was going on?” He was also irritated.

 

“Werewolves, seriously? Benji is a werewolf?”  I was trying to grasp the idea.

 

“No!” he sounded halfway between being annoyed and calling me retarded, “I am a werewolf, your vampire spawn is a cross-bred between the undead and a witch.”

 

I was glad Benji was not awake to hear him call him spawn, I really wanted to smack him. “Benji is half vampire and half witch?”

 

“As improbable as it is, it looks like that is the case. You appear to be the witch and how did you, manage to get pregnant with a vampire is beyond me. Vampires are dead and as such, infertile.” He said pissed.

 

I tried to process all that, but it was hard. “Why are you so pissy anyway?” I asked. I was grateful that he saved us and I am sure he had more fun plans for his Saturday than driving us all the way to meet the Alpha-lord. Nevertheless, if he had been half nice to me, I would have been all roses and sweetness to him and the drive would have been a lot more pleasant.

 

“I hate vampires!” he stated dryly.

 

“Then why are you helping us?” I asked confused, he seemed to have known what my kid was.

 

He sighed. “Because, despite my hate for vampires, I know it is not his fault.  He is just a kid and nobody should endure what he is experiencing alone and uninformed.”

 

OK, so he was not a total jerk after all.