Ramy laughs, freer than I’ve ever heard. “What do you mean ‘flavour’?”
Golden grins wide, chin pressed into the shoulder of the chair. “Obviously blood is all the same stuff, but do regions taste different? Like, Southerners taste rich and Northerners taste friendly?”
Kai snaps his fingers as if Golden’s on to something. “Like the human version of jollof rice.”
When the three of them laugh like they’ve been friends for years my heart swells. Our family is healing, or perhaps becoming stronger than it ever was. My previous mates interacted with my brothers and Vidar, but there is a quality to Golden that draws people in, maybe his outlandish questions. Even brooding Rurik fights back a smile.
“Blood doesn’t work like that,” Ramy tells them both. “Animal blood tastes less…dense, I guess is the right word, and has less nutritional value. Fresh human blood is the best and is like…”
“A well balanced meal?” Golden offers.
Ramy chuckles. “Something like that.”
The leather seat cracks under Kai when he leans forward. “So, do you have vampire laws you need to follow? None of you seem all that bothered about keeping the whole vampire thing secret.”
Rurik waves the idea away. “Who cares if you tell people? No one would believe you and humans explain away anything out of the ordinary, besides we hide by blending in. Which is why we sometimes become apathetic or start to lose our minds, it’s like we’re losing whowereally are.”
Ramy nods. “He’s right, but we have no one telling us what to do as long as we stay hidden. Unlike werewolf packs.”
Golden’s back goes straight, gasping. “Whoa, werewolves are real? Do they howl? Do they turn into monsters? Oh shit, was that really offensive to say?”
I squeeze his thigh to reassure him. “No, love.”
“Werewolves are assholes anyway,” Rurik supplies.
“Werewolves follow pack law,” I tell Golden, his hand resting on mine. “Packs can differ in size but there are normally between twenty to fifty wolves. They each have a pack leader and that leader reports to the Dire Wolf. Who is the leader of all werewolves and enforces their laws.”
“But vampires don’t have that?” Kai asks.
“Vampires have family units,” Ramy replies. “Typically they’re not large, the biggest family I know of are the Darkmoore’s with ten.”
“And their assholes,” Rurik informs helpfully.
“Vampire families have one—sometimes two—family heads and then their offspring. And hierarchy depends on age,” I explain.
“You have a family name?” Golden asks me.
I entwine our fingers. “It would be Vidar’s surname, so our family is called the Hararldsoons. But I still have my own.”
Golden perks up, a question mark shining in his eyes
As my lips drift into an indulgent smile, I say, “It’s Toledo, beautiful.”
His shining expression melts into something softer, and I struggle to keep my eyes on the road, instead of lost within his gaze.
“Nice to meet you, Lucero Toledo.” His voice touched with a little shyness. “My name’s Golden Ramnarine.”
I kiss the back of his palm. “The pleasure is all mine, Golden Ramnarine.”
“So Vidar is your daddy?” Kai says, shattering my moment with Golden as my face twists with distaste, my mate snickering.
“Please do not call Vidar that,” Ramy groans. “He is the head of our family. However, since Vidar is…indisposed, and the oldest of our family, Sen, off doing who-knows-what, Lucero currently leads us.”
Golden’s head bobs up and down. “And you’re the youngest, Ramy?”
“I am, I’ve been a vampire for only ten years.”
He hugs the back of his chair, leaning closer to Ramy. “Well, not for long, right? Once Lucero makes me into a vampire.”