“I will,” Snod said earnestly, surprised how easy it was to make that promise. “I swear it.”
Frankie tilted his head, debating something internally before finally asking, “There is one thing I need
to understand. You could have fled back to the Order at any time. Why stay, why bother trying to fake
your way into something you clearly wanted so much?”
“Father Sanguis would not let me return unless I gave him something,” Snod explained, shame forcing
his gaze back to the floor mats.
“What was it?” Frankie pressed, a slight frown creasing his mouth.
“The name of your Maker.”
“My Maker?” Frankie blinked in shock.
“I don’t understand why,” Snod said quickly, “and I am being honest. I have no idea why he wanted to
know, but that was the price of my return.”
“A vampire’s true name can be powerful, or so some used to believe,” Frankie said, scoffing lightly.
“There is old magic, very old, that supposedly can trap a vampire if you speak their true name with
the right incantation.”
“Is that true?”
“No!” Frankie scolded, laughing softly. “It doesn’t work. There is nothing to be gained by it.”
Snod frowned, wondering why Father Sanguis would have wanted to trap a vampire. He trusted that
Frankie’s information was more accurate than the Order’s, and it made his secret mission even more
curious.
He could no longer begin to hazard a guess at what Sanguis’ true motivations had been, but decided it
was no longer relevant. “I will never ask you.”
Frankie nodded, finally shifting to put the car in gear and drive them home. He let Snod stay cuddled
up against him, the ride relaxed and quiet. There was a beautiful sense of peace between them now,
all of the deception exposed. Frankie was still willing to forgive Snod and adore him with open arms.
This had to be love, Snod thought, smiling when they finally arrived home. He held Frankie’s hand all
the way up to the apartment, content to bask in that warmth before it was snatched away when he saw
Lorenzo and Athaliah in the kitchen taking shots.
“Obie!” Athaliah cheered, beckoning him over into a ferocious hug and shoving a freshly filled shot
glass his hand.
“Sorry, dude!” Lorenzo chuckled, a bit tipsy and grinning at Frankie. “I sort of let us in? I know where
