Tyr leaned back in the booth, his long fingers wrapped around his cup. "As far as drinking blood, it's really not as bad as you might think, not for vampires. Then, too, I've had seven centuries to adjust." His blue eyes took on a distant look. "But blood... it's different for vampires. The taste is incredibly rich and complex. More satisfying than any meal I ever had as a human."
"Really?" Beth couldn't quite hide her skepticism.
"Imagine the most decadent chocolate you've ever tasted, or the perfect glass of wine." His voice dropped lower. "Blood is like that for us - layers of flavor, subtle notes that shift and change. Each person's blood has its own unique taste."
"That's... actually kind of fascinating." Beth took a thoughtful sip of hot chocolate. "I guess I never considered blood could have different flavors."
"Of course not. Why would you?" Tyr's lips curved in amusement. "Though I promise you, we're much more civilized about it these days than the stories would have you believe."
Beth sat up primly, smoothing her napkin across her lap. "I should hope so," she said with exaggerated dignity. Their shared laughter broke the tension, echoing softly in the quiet diner.
Beth wrapped both hands around her mug, gathering her courage.
"Do you..." She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. "Do you have a Blood Sworn?"
The question came out slightly higher pitched than she'd intended. What she really wanted to know was if he had a Consort - someone who shared not just blood but intimacy and affection. The thought of Tyr being that close to someone else made her stomach twist, but she couldn't bring herself to ask so directly.
"Actually, my brother and I share a Blood Sworn - Derek. He's been with us for about three years now. We're seeing him through college - network administration. Smart kid, really gets the technical side of things." Pride colored Tyr's voice. "He works part-time for Shadow Guard while he's studying."
"That's... really generous of you," Beth managed, wrapping her hands around her mug. An unexpected sense of relief washed through her at the realization that Tyr's relationship with Derek seemed purely practical. No Consort, then. She pushed away the question of why this mattered so much—some truths were better left unexamined, at least for now.
Tyr's expression grew serious, his steady gaze taking on an ancient depth that reminded Beth he'd walked this earth for centuries.
"The thing is," he said, his voice dropping lower, "vampires were created millennia ago to be the apex predators of predators. We were created to hunt, to fight… and to win." A shadow of ancient grief flickered across his features. "It is... difficult... to control that predatory nature and not kill when feeding."
She got it. Vampires weren't tame pussycats. Inside, Whisper swiveled her ears flat, hissing. Yeah, yeah. Down kitty. Come to think of it, clouded leopards were pretty ferocious in their own right.
Beth felt Whisper surge within her, rising closer to the surface than usual. Not with fear, but with a primal recognition that made Beth's canines ache momentarily. Her clouded leopard—an evolutionary descendant of the ancient saber-toothed cats—responded with unexpected intensity, predator recognizing predator across species lines. The sensation wasn't threatening but almost... respectful.
"Whisper understands," Beth said softly, touching her fingers to her lips where she'd felt that phantom pressure of elongated fangs. "Clouded leopards are direct evolutionary descendants of saber-toothed cats, you know. They can open their jaws wider than any modern big cat, and their fangs are proportionally the largest." She gave a small, self-conscious smile. "Sometimes I forget just how much predator lives inside me too."
Tyr's eyes gleamed with interest. "I didn't know that! No wonder you understand the balance so well."
"It's different, of course," Beth continued, finding herself wanting to share this part of herself. "Whisper hunts for survival, not sport. But that ancient predatory instinct—the perfect silence before the strike, the certainty of the kill—it's there, buried deep. We've just learned to channel it differently."
"Having a donor that we're responsible for, that we're invested in - and I don't mean monetarily -" His eyes met hers, intense and unwavering. "It makes it easier to control the urges that swell up when our fangs slide down to feed."
Beth nodded slowly, processing this revelation. It made sense - having someone you cared about, someone whose wellbeing mattered to you personally, would provide a powerful anchor against darker impulses.
"Like having a family to protect," she murmured, thinking of how her own predatory nature was tempered by her bonds with Naomi and the others.
"Exactly." Tyr's shoulders relaxed slightly. "The connection helps ground us, reminds us of our humanity even in those moments when the predator threatens to take over."
The conversation had shifted to something deeper than she'd expected over breakfast, this mutual recognition of the predators they carried within. She traced the rim of her mug, curious about the practical aspects of Tyr's arrangement with Derek. "So with Derek as your Blood Sworn, how does that arrangement actually work day-to-day?"
"It works out well for everyone." Tyr shrugged. "We get blood as we need it. Derek gets hands-on experience, plus a place to live, tuition, and a steady salary, in addition to what he makes part-time with the security company. As well, we get someone we trust and who knows about us, working at Shadow Guard." His blue eyes sparkled. "Plus, when he graduates, there's a full-time position waiting if he wants it."
"So it's almost a kind of partnership?" Beth asked, fascinated by all this.
"Exactly." Tyr nodded approvingly. "When you've lived as long as we have, you learn the value of investing in people, building relationships that benefit everyone involved." He took a sip of coffee. "Derek's got real talent with computers. It wouldbe wasteful not to nurture that. He's not under any obligation to join Shadow Guard when he graduates, but it's our hope he'll want to."
The waitress appeared with Beth's pancakes, momentarily halting their conversation. Steam rose from the golden stack, blueberries dotting the fluffy surface like tiny colorful jewels.
Beth picked up her fork, then hesitated as she glanced at Tyr sitting across from her. The steaming pancakes smelled incredible, but eating while he could only watch felt oddly rude.
"This is awkward," she murmured, setting her fork back down. "Eating in front of you, when you can't."
A rich chuckle escaped Tyr's throat. "Not at all." His blue eyes crinkled with genuine amusement. "After seven centuries, I assure you I've made peace with my dietary restrictions." He gestured toward her plate. "Please, enjoy your breakfast. Even the smell doesn't tempt me anymore - it's like looking at a painting. I can appreciate its beauty without wanting to eat it."
