As Arran walked into the kitchen/living room on Saturday morning, he was met by the sight of his uncle Lex lying on the sofa reading a book. Lex was always completely covered and today was no exception as Aran saw his boots hanging off the end of the sofa, jeans tucked in. Arran called out a greeting as he set his laptop and school books down at the bar, before approaching the living area.

"Mind if I turn the TV on?" he asked, picking up the remote.

"Go ahead."

Arran returned to the bar and took a seat while flicking through the input options on the large TV until he got to the custom input that picked up the supernatural channels. He brought up the channel options, there weren't many. There was a news network for most countries, a global station and a few dedicated to combining the major news of regions. The only other options were a handful of fiction channels which only ran at certain hours of the day and showcased the pitiable handful of dramas the supernatural world had to offer. Almost all of them focussed on witches. Every single channel was broadcast by Device House, a company created by the Device family of witches. Witching didn't usually run in families but in the Device bloodline it was rampant. They had a hand in every aspect of supernatural life and a monopoly on the media.

Normally, Arran avoided DHTV as most of what passed for news was a nonstop parade of bad things that vampires have done. But this morning that was exactly what he was looking for. He turned over to the UK newsfeed and made a start on his homework while he waited for a segment that would cover the north of England.

"Are you watching the news?" Lex peered over the back of the sofa at him.

"Uncle Lex, I know you're like a thousand, but if your eyesight has deteriorated to the point that you can't see what's on the TV from the sofa, it might be time to throw in the towel." 

There was a rush of wind and Lex was standing right in front of Arran, who tried not to flinch. No matter how many times he saw Lex move faster than the eye could track he doubted he would ever be as comfortable with it as his mother.

"Very funny kid." Lex's face was inches from his own and there was a warning in his eyes. After a moment Lex diverted his attention to the books on the counter. "You're reading Ford?"

"I saw it last night."

Lex picked up the text in his left hand, the other was cut off at the wrist, which was covered by the cuff of his shirt. "This was a really good period for English theatre. I saw it once, a very long time ago."

"1630? You know it'd be really helpful for my essay if you'd been to the original performance."

"Yes, I saw it in 1630, 200 years before I was born. No, it was in the twenties."

"What's the point of keeping an old man like you around if you can't even help me with my homework?"

"You're a snarky little cad these days, baby Redfern. I liked you better when you were morose and drunk."

"That's really responsible, Lex."

"Whatever," he put the book back down. "I'm off, Celyn's on her way back. Enjoy your...news reports and essay writing."

Arran had to admit, he'd had wilder Saturdays. He went over to the fridge and looked at his options. It had been a while since he'd last drank any blood and as time passed he found himself needing to eat larger quantities of food more often. He pulled out one of the blood bags that Celyn kept in the bottom of the fridge and gave it an experimental squeeze. The results weren't very appealing. He had no idea how his mother could survive on this stuff. Bagged blood was available to buy from the council but the only people who used it tended to be those who had no hope of hunting undetected. Celyn had warmed it up and snuck it into Arran's food when he was young, but looking it in now in its thick, cold state it turned his stomach. He put the pack back under the punnet of tomatoes where he found it and opted for a food based breakfast.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. Arran couldn't see anything in the news that indicated that the vampires he'd seen in Blackpool had actually done any harm. In a way, this made things even stranger as Arran doubted they were just in town to see a gig. His stomach growled, yet only two hours had passed since his last meal. He really should get some blood soon. He sent a text to Cynthia, asking if she was around that night, immediately receiving a string of emoji that he interpreted to be an enthusiastic yes. He booked a hotel room, sent her the reservation details and tried not to salivate.

He made himself a sandwich and contemplated getting a takeaway because by the time it got here he'd be starving again. He checked his bank account balance and winced, between his night out with Naomi the night before and the hotel reservation he had just made, he only really had enough of his allowance left to get him to Blackpool tonight and back again. Cursing himself for using up so much of his savings over summer, Arran felt relieved that his birthday, and a large deposit from his father, were less than a week away.

Giving up on the idea of a takeaway, Arran was about to return to his work when he heard the front door open. Celyn may not have super speed, but she moved quickly when she was in a bad mood and now Arran watched as she tore across the room, letting her suitcase come to its own stopping point in the middle of the room. She flung open the fridge and pulled out the same blood bag that Arran had contemplated earlier.

"Hi-" Arran stopped as Celyn brought up one finger to silence him. She held the bag high above her head with her other hand, bit into it and started drinking. Arran pulled a face. "Do you want me to get you a cup or something?"

She swapped out her extended finger for a middle one. She'd bitten too high into the bag so had to squeeze the last of it out.

"Sorry," she said as she threw the remaining plastic away. "I just really needed to bite into something."

"Did that work?" Arran couldn't imagine biting through plastic was anywhere near as satisfying as the real thing.

"No." She eyed up an apple in the fruit bowl optimistically and took a bite. She looked thoughtful but underwhelmed. "Neither did that."

"Bad week?"

"Infuriating," she sat down on the barstool next to him and span herself around. "An utter waste of my time and energy. If I'd have known that gaining my freedom would have meant this much paperwork I'm not sure I would have thought it worth the effort."

"Better than being stuck in a lab all day though, right?"

"At least back then there were chemicals and explosions, now there's just endless write ups and guidelines. What I need is for one of you kids to take over as the representative for our little species."

"I'm sure you could ask Rhona." Arran's sister, Beronia, was the antithesis of diplomatic. She spent most of her time pushing her powers to the limit and seeing how much destruction she could wreak without breaking any supernatural laws.

"I'm bored Arran, but I'm not 'start the end of the world' bored," she chided him gently. "What I am, is still hungry. Do you want to order Chinese for lunch?"

Arran could think of nothing he wanted more.

---

Arran and his mother sat on the large corner sofa with enough Chinese food to feed their whole family piled on the coffee table. Three extra pairs of chopsticks lay unneeded on the side.

"I was going to head back into the city tonight to see a friend," he said. Celyn hadn't officially said that he was grounded beyond not giving him any money, but he still felt the need to run it by her for permission. "I'll finish the rest of my school work tomorrow, I just haven't fed in a while." 

"A friend?" 

"Yeah, a friend. She's always been very understanding about the whole vampire thing before I wipe her memory and we hang out and stuff." 

"That's fine, as long as you're sure it's not going to take up time you should be using to study. It's good that you're making more human friends," she said, thoughtfully. "I'm impressed with how much effort you've been putting in lately, if you keep it up I'll start giving you your allowance back after your birthday. Speaking of which, you still haven't told me what you want.

Arran had been thinking about that, borrowing the car on Friday had been really useful and he wanted one for himself. He had been trying to think of a way to ask, but it would be an expensive present. He tried his luck.

"What kind of car?" Celyn didn't look convinced.

"Oh any new model Alfa Romeo as long as it's red. The 4C looks nice," he joked. "Seriously anything with an engine and four wheels, I'll take second hand, anything. And I was thinking I could use the money that I get from Alistair this year to pay for the insurance."

"Ok. I'll think about it."

Arran decided not to push it for now and returned to his food. His mother had an odd relationship with money. When she was human she had married at 15, unusual even for the 19th century, and moved into the house they lived in now with her husband. As per the time, she had no say in finances or anything at all, something she sought to rectify through her extramarital affair with Isaac Vasseri, one of a few vampires living in the area at the time. But leaving humanity behind hadn't had the effect she desired. She was turned into an unknown entity, a mutation on the vampire genome. She was something that the council at the time deemed too strong and unpredictable to remain a free agent. Isaac had the power to control her completely so she remained mainly accountable to him and occasionally the council whenever it suited him to lend her out.

It all boiled down to Celyn not having had her own money until about twenty years ago so she had a tendency to hoard it, only spending it on things that were necessary. What counted for essential in Celyn's world, however, differed from most. Gutting and reworking the house to the highest standard had been her first priority and it still received expensive updates to keep its specs and furniture perfect every few years. Aesthetics and freedom of expression were important to her, as was culture and certain forms of technology. Anything else was wasteful and difficult to get her to agree to. 

For a while Arran had begged for a cat, only to be met with long talks about the average cost of household pets, backed up with studies into the environmental impacts of domestic cats. There had also been a brief period where Celyn grew most of their food, but that ended when Arran  started to grow older and her political responsibilities got larger.

"I saw Cree," said Celyn.

Arran swallowed his mouthful slowly. "Of course you did, it was a decision-making body about werewolf territories and she's the daughter of the King." Celyn was watching him carefully, he tried to ignore her. It wasn't long before he failed. "What?"

"How are you, Arran?"

"I'm fine, mother. Thank you for asking," he didn't want to encourage any questions about his breakup.

"Good." She pushed around the remaining noodles in her tin container with her chopsticks. "She misses you."

"Well that's understandable."

"I think she's lonely, she doesn't have a lot of friends."

"I'm well aware of that, mum, that was a key part of our relationship, complete co-dependency. So if you're going to ask me to give her a call, I really don't think it will help."

"I suppose not," Celyn paused, "it really is nice that you've made an effort to socialise with your peers this year."

"That's me," said Arran, going back to his food, "Mr. Popular."

"Well seeing as it's your 18th, why don't you have a party? You could invite your whole year, we have the space." Celyn suggested, making Arran choke on his rice.

"A party? Here?" He managed through coughs.

"Why not?" She asked. Arran could think of several reasons.

"Our TV picks up stations that purely broadcast about the existence of vampires, there's blood in the vegetable crisper and god knows what kind of illegal weaponry you keep in the garage."

"What do you know about what I keep in my garage?" There was a stern edge to her voice, no one was allowed in there.

"It's purely conjecture, mother, but I'm sure it's all horrible. And I'm certain it's not the kind of thing you want 60 teenagers anywhere near."

"Supposing I had enough stored in there to start, if not win, a war, do you think I would leave it so easy to break into that less than a hundred humans were a concern?" Celyn's garage was the old stable building, slightly away from the rest of the house. Arran had never been in and despite its large size she'd added a double sized shelter to the side of it to park in, as she said there was no space inside. Whatever was inside, there was a lot of it.

"I'm just not sure it's a good idea. Besides, we're out in the middle of nowhere."

"Suit yourself, the offer is open if you want it."

"Thanks mum."

Maybe he would invite James and Naomi over if he was satisfied that he could adequately de-vampire the house.