"Charlie and I come from a line of hunters. Our family also owns a bed and breakfast but we're hunters, first and foremost. Charlie and I have been hunters, I guess, officially since we were both nineteen. So five years for me and two for her. Mum wouldn't hear of it, us putting ourselves in danger before then even though we've spent our whole lives surrounded by hunters, protectors."<br/><br/>It felt strange, telling someone his life story. Everyone he knew, people he associated with, already knew all the details. He'd grown up with them, called most of them his auntie or uncle, even if they weren't related by blood. The community wasn't terribly big, and as such, most people were close. At least, that was how it was in Boston. Ryah wasn't sure what things were like in New York, though he had a few aquaintances.<br/><br/>Outside, Ryah could see how the overcast skies seemed to affect Drake. He wasn't looking so hot but he wasn't blistering like most vampires tended to do. Still, Ryah assumed he knew his own limits. Once the brunet got his bearings straight though, and he found a couple of landmarks, it was easy to find his car. He popped the trunk and quickly reloaded his cartridges before tucking his guns away, and slipping into the driver's seat, waiting for Drake to join him.<br/><br/>"So where's the best coffee joint around here? And no, that's not my question," he added quickly with a laugh. "How long have you been turned?"