There's what Blanc's parents call a 'light spread' on the table. Several large trays of cheese and crackers are on the table, some of which are partnered with small dishes of caviar. Bowls filled with a creamy potato soup are placed at each of our seats by a friendly-looking butler. The chef comes out with a big plate of shrimp and crab legs and goes around the table, letting us take as much as we want from the mounds of seafood.

I'm too busy eating to really pay attention to the conversation.

"I know you want to be called Blanc by your friends, but surely not by your family," Sophia says, "You know we have our pseudonyms as well, but not at home."

"What are your pseudonyms, Mr. and Mrs. Bentley?" Samantha asks.

"Well." Michael clears his throat and sets down his napkin. "I call myself Mike when I look like this," he says. Suddenly, his light hair lengthens and his form changes. "And Miranda when I look like this."

We all clap politely. We don't seem to know what otherwise to do.

"And I," Sophia says, smiling at Miranda, "Call myself mimic."

We all open our mouths and say the last three words in unison. We clap again, smiling now. Miranda changes back to Michael.

"Well, now that we've started, let's have a demonstration! We'll go around the table," he says. Blanc is to his left.

"Well, pretty much all of you know what I can do. It isn't exactly demonstrable," she says.

"What would that be?" Coleton asks.

"She erases memories," her father says, "and keeps them for herself."

"What about you, dear?" she asks Blossom, who's next. She holds her hands out and the vines wrap up her arms.

"Stab me with your fork," she tells Blanc.

"Ok..." Blanc says. She picks up her unused salad fork and jams it into Blossom's outstretched arm. The feathered green strands wrap around it, snakelike, and soon cover Blanc from head to foot.

"How fascinating!" Sophia exclaims with a clap.

"What about you, Coleton." Michael says, smiling at him.

"I might not want to do this inside," he says. The hosts laugh as though that's absurd.

"Our house is sturdier than you'd think, love," Sophia smiles.

His eyes turn red and the table starts to shudder. The noise makes my ears ache.

We all clap once he's finished and he smiles.

"And you Douma?" says Michael.

I notice that until now, she has left her coat on. She removes it and her wings spread up to touch the high ceiling. The hosts clap, grinning from ear to ear.

"Now we're to the other side of the table. And it seems I'm next!" Sophia says. We all look up and laugh. Samantha smiles.

"Is it that you like how I look, or does everyone see themselves?" Sophia asks. She fills her plate for the third time. Being pregnant must be tough.

"I'm like a mirror," Samantha says.

"Wonderful! But now, it seems we'll have to postpone our game for you, dear."

I smile. "I understand. I'll show you all later."

"But Scarlett," Michael says, "I'm sure can go next."

She smiles and stands, pushing her chair back out of the way. Then, almost like a wave down her body, her backbone changes shape. A tail sprouts out. Her legs and arms change direction. Sleek black fur grows from her head to her toes. Then, standing in the dining room, is a panther.

I start to laugh. It's bizarre to see a panther wearing clothing. She changes back, the transition looking almost painful.

We eat and talk for almost an hour.

"I'm sorry, dears," Sophia finally says, "because although it's still hardly late for you, it's nearly dawn for us. We must be getting to bed."

I look now at the clocks and see it's four fourty-seven AM. We all apologize.

"Please," Michael says, "It was our pleasure. We've had parties later before this one and I'm sure we'll have them again. It's really no trouble." He yawns. "No trouble at all. Show them to their rooms, Christine, dear."

Blanc does, and we all settle in. I'm sharing Blanc's room.

"Almost like we never left the school, eh?" I joke.

"Are you saying my room looks anything like the wood paneled closets they offer there?" she says in mock disdain.

I laugh. "Thank you, Blanc," I say, "for everything."

I settle into her trundle bed and fall asleep in my jeans.