Celis T. Rono - By That Which Bites Page 0,41

tattooed on your left booby.” She pointed at the black, three-inch tattoo.

“And the dragon on your back.”

“Listen, the tattoo is on the left side of my chest.

Number two, thousands of non-Chinese got the same kind of tattoos before the Gray Arma-crackin’. It was a craze for a while. And C, and most importantly, never assume a person’s ethnic background in Los Angeles.

It’s rude and you’ll almost always guess wrong.” He smiled again, making Poe cringe even more. “I’m not Chinese. I’m Filipino American with some bastardized 113

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Spanish blood, I’m told. Any other questions about me, my body art, or racial make-up?”

“No. Just the meaning of the tattoo,” Poe said, thinking fast, hotly embarrassed.

“Well, I’m not really sure. I was told that it meant honor, but since I don’t read or speak Chinese, I can only hope the tattoo artist didn’t lie to me. He tattooed

‘moron fashion victim’ for all I know.”

Poe forced a laugh, feeling a little less stupid. The vampire lectured her but in a funny sort of way, just how Goss used to do. She understood that she was hugely ignorant about social subtleties since Goss and Sister Ann had pointed them out often enough. PC she was not.

“I like your name, Joseph,” Poe stated, surprised at what came out of her mouth.

“Oh yeah? Why?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as if expecting some more nipple references.

“Because you, um, have the same name as my brother.” Poe said, looking away.

Joseph grinned, showing extremely white teeth with sharpened fangs. “That’s funny. I may have had an annoying sister named Poe in my other life.”

Was that an extension of friendship, or merely another one of his jokes? No matter, for Poe knew that she was screwed at that point. This charming vampire before her would not die at her hands. Unless of course he tried to kill her.

“Oh, my mother was half-Filipino, you know,”

she told him proudly.

(((

Joseph, apparently, was her tour guide for the evening. He took her to the media room where quite a 114

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selection of movies was stashed. Several booths equipped with viewing equipment lined the walls.

As they walked down the lanes, Poe would point out the names of the movies currently playing. “That’s 400 Blows. Good movie. That’s Tarzan and His Mate, and that’s Blacula. Wow. El Norte. Good but a real downer.”

“I guess you’ve seen a lot of movies in your time, eh?”

“Nearly every day and every hour since I was eight,” said Poe. “That one’s Office Space and the next one over’s Dong Dong Silver.”

Joseph shook his head as if he’d misheard the girl.

“Dong Dong Silver?” He peeked over the last booth.

“Hey, mind getting your own booth, folks?” a vampire with his human honey complained. “Looking over our shoulder is not cool, man.”

Joseph pulled the squirming Poe out of the media room. Once outside he had to sit down and clutch his stomach for support to keep from toppling over. “Dong Dong Silver! Ha ha ha!”

Poe just stood there, offended and truly mortified.

She didn’t discriminate when it came to movies. She watched them all.

A now sober Joseph ended his outburst at the sight of Poe’s obvious embarrassment.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he said, changing the subject. He led her down a corridor into a huge kitchen with rows of tables and chairs.

She drank the sight of vampires, halfdeads, and humans supping together.

“So many people,” she said in a whisper.

Then her nostrils picked up the most magnificent smells she hadn’t sniffed in over a decade.

“A buffet,” she said with awe, ranting out names of nearly forgotten all-you-can eat restaurants.

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“Todai’s sushi and seafood grab-a-lots, Raji’s Indian foodtacular, Nyala’s Ethiopian smorgasbord…”

She didn’t remember being handed a tray. There on the slab of heated metal tins represented an amalgam of Angelino cultures. Pad thai, tamales, orange chicken, bibimbap, vegetable tikka masala, blintz, collard greens, kebobs, mashed potatoes, pork chops, sushi, teriyaki chicken, mac and cheese, and so much more! She stood where she was, staring as hungry humans passed her up.

After fourteen years of eating jellified canned food, she piled it on.

She scooped some rice and poured vegetable tikka masala sauce on it. Then some greens without bacon, mashed potatoes over jerk sauce, corn on the cob, stir fried veggies, eggplant curry, California rolls, and–

“Will you be needing another tray?” Sainvire asked, casually appearing out of nowhere, looking at the mound of food on the cattle runner’s plate and tray.

“Oh. Sorry.” Poe plopped down the rice pudding she was about to spoon into a bowl,

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