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Houses – very much like the monsters I saw tonight – can be soulless, too. 
The Fair House is an old stone stately home surrounded by long dry grass, towering boulder walls, and an even bigger iron gate. The bright fluorescent lights reflected off the bare white walls and polished floors. The staircase beside the entrance curved up to the unlit second floor was blocked off by a simple silver rope. An ice-cold draft drifted in from the large ballroom beneath the staircase, carrying the strong scent of lemon and antiseptic. It was hell away from home.
The idea was that the Fair House was supposed to be a safe, neutral space for my family to meet with delegates and representatives from different species, clans, kingdoms, or families. The Head Council thought that a comfortable environment wasn't necessary and removed whatever influence my family had from the Fair House and redesigned it to be more 'professional.' Less homey, more prison-like. And in order to gain favour back from the people, the Head Council allowed the Fair House to host extravagant parties, disconcerting funerals, and lavish diplomatic dinners that the Head Council don't even show up for. The Fair House was a cage that reminded my family that no matter how significant our influence was over the people we protected, they had the upper hand and would always be in control. 
We came here almost every night.
"They're getting ready for the Farewell Dinner," Dad explained, staring blankly into the ballroom.
We lingered in the doorway, watching the staff of the Fair House bustling around the large room, dusting the corners, polishing the floor, setting up tables and chairs, and hanging wispy black and red drapes from the windows, across the ornate ceiling, and even on the walls. It was like putting makeup on a corpse – pretty but still dead.
Dad pulled me away from the ballroom, down a long white corridor, past portraits of people I didn't know, and closed shiny white doors. At the end of the hallway, was a wooden door as old as time itself. Behind the door, the air was different. It was untouched by the coldness of the Fair House. Hidden in plain sight. Laughter came from behind the door, the smell of homecooked food wafted in the air. The air itself didn't make me feel unwelcome or out of place. It called me to come forward.
I opened the door and met with a cluster of noise, bright colours, and peace. Unlike the Fair House, pictures and posters hung from the exposed brick walls. The kitchen had light wooden counters and cupboards and an island in the middle to separate the kitchen from the mess of the living room. The living room was small, and mostly occupied with pull-out couches, and a gaming console rigged up to the TV.
Two of my cousins were screaming at the screen, one standing on the couch, the other crouched down on the coffee table, slamming the controllers with their fingers and raising it above their heads as if the height gave a better advantage. The only other female in the room was sitting in the corner of the island, tapping thumbs across her cellphone. Chrissa did a perfect double-take – glancing up, looking at me, and then back at her phone before her bottle-green eyes widened and locked on me.
"What happened?" she stood up so fast she knocked over the barstool as she rushed to me, grabbing my face. "Weren't you supposed to stay in the car?" 
"Does she ever?" Dad asked. His voice seemed too loud against the noise until I realized that silence now filled the air, and two more pairs of green eyes locked onto me.
"Black Souls?" Andrew, the eldest of my cousins, asked.
East, the second eldest, followed Andrew around the couch and bent down to take a look at my face. He whistled low and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your Mom is going to kill you."
"Two Fallen Vampires. They unfortunately fed tonight." Dad explained, earning open-mouthed gapes from my cousins. "I'll call the boys and tell them to do a pickup."