one rule everyone broke. Even one of the archbishops took a public lashing after being caught with a
cup from Starbucks.”
The vampire furrowed his brows. “These lashings... they would be in front of everyone?”
“Not always,” Snod said, surprised how easy it was to open up to the vampire. “Usually they’d be
done during prayer or confession. Just you and one of the priests.”
The vampire looked a bit alarmed.
Snod set his glass down a little harder than he had meant to, feeling a little fuzzy, asking firmly, “So.
Tell me. How old are you?”
“Why are you so interested?” the vampire asked innocently, obviously grateful for the change in
subject.
“Is that why you’re so fast? Because of how old you are?”
“No. I inherited the gift from my Maker. Some vampires have unique abilities, you see. Some are very
fast, some can turn into mist, some can bewitch you with just a look. It takes centuries to learn, but
they can be passed down from Maker to child.”
“You don’t like your Maker?” Snod could very clearly pick up on the hostility in the vampire’s voice
when he spoke of him.
“No, I do not,” the vampire said sharply, finishing off his drink and pouring another.
“Why? Tell me about him,” Snod said as casually as he could, trying to keep his interest discreet.
“No,” the vampire said flatly, his expression as blank as a marble slate. “There is nothing to tell. He
turned me, and I left him as soon as I could.”
Snod was overwhelmed by a sudden surge of sadness, an ache that took his breath away. He had
never felt such sorrow. He had to gasp out loud, reaching forward to grab the vampire’s hand. It was
the vampire’s emotions he was feeling, he realized, and the anguish was suffocating.
The feeling faded almost as quickly as it came, and he stared in confusion at the vampire. “What...
what did he do to you?”
“Not everyone wants to be immortal, Obe,” the vampire said, letting their fingers weave together.
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to having a blood bond. I forgot to keep it down, I guess. Didn’t mean to let
my feelings come through like that.”
“Can you feel mine?” Snod asked pointedly, wondering if his ulterior motives could be sensed. He
caught himself looking at the vampire’s lips, remembering what the archbishop said about seducing
