“Let’s get you cleaned up first.”
Snod allowed himself to be herded into a spacious bathroom, sitting down on the edge of the tub as
the vampire tenderly peeled his shirt and scapular away.
“What did you use?” the vampire asked softly, his fingers lightly touching one of the wounds.
“My belt,” Snod replied, frowning.
The vampire pricked his finger on one of his fangs, slowly dabbing his own blood over each raised
welt. “These are part of your lessons?”
“Yes,” Snod sighed softly as the pain began to fade.
“You’ve done this... a lot.”
“Slow learner,” Snod replied with a faint smirk. The vampire looked confused, and he added, “That’s
supposed to be a joke.”
“Sorry if I don’t find it very funny,” the vampire said dryly, picking up a washcloth and dampening it
under the faucet of the sink. He began to softly wash Snod’s back, his movements tender and caring.
Snod was absolutely melting, closing his eyes and concentrating on the cold fingers moving over each
tear in his flesh. He felt echoes of those same fingers touching him all over as his cock thrusted deep
inside the vampire’s tight body...
The mission.
Snod cleared his throat, glancing back at the vampire behind him, asking quietly, “The scrubs... Are
you a doctor?”
“Yes, I’m a hematologist,” he replied. “I work for Hazel Medical Research Facility.”
“Hmm. Plenty of access to blood then?”
“Yes, to help me find cures.”
“For...?”
“For diseases,” the vampire said with a smirk. “I like helping people.”
“Were you a doctor before you were turned?”
“God, no,” the vampire laughed. “I was a printer’s apprentice.”
“The books,” Snod realized. “They’re yours? Did you print those?”
“A few of them, yes. I worked for Hall and Sellers for several years, a printing company in
Philadelphia.”
“How old are you?”
