sex.”
“We can sleep together and not have sex,” Frankie assured him with a short laugh. “I don’t feel right
leaving you out there when you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset,” Snod pouted, flopping into Frankie’s bed.
“Uh huh,” Frankie said, letting his obvious lie go unchecked. He stretched out beside him under the
blankets, pulling him close.
Snod didn’t think he’d be able to fall asleep again, but Frankie was holding him so tenderly, his cool
hands stroking over his back. They didn’t say anything else, only held each other, and Snod couldn’t
escape the warmth filling him up.
He had never known such happiness, and the Order wasn’t here to take it away. He wanted this dream
to be real, a desperate voice deep inside of him telling him that he could have this. He could keep it,
he could keep Frankie, and there was nothing wrong with wanting it.
A life together, to actually be his boyfriend, to fall in love, to have something real.
Snod pressed his head against Frankie’s chest, and for a precious few moments he thought he could
hear the soft thumping of a heartbeat as he dozed off.
Chapter Eight
Snod woke up snuggled against Frankie’s side, his head a little foggy and his mouth dry. He didn’t
feel too spectacular, but he hadn’t had any more bad dreams at least. He grumbled lightly as he peered
over to see Frankie smiling at him. He put his head back down, sighing, “Don’t you ever sleep?”
“Good morning! I do sleep sometimes,” Frankie replied, horribly cheerful and disgustingly wide
awake. “I need very little now. Same with blood. I only need to feed once a week. Might be able to
even make it a month before I started getting really hungry.”
Snod grumbled again and considered going back to sleep, but his curiosity wouldn’t allow it. He
lifted up his head, asking, “Really? I thought that you had to feed constantly?”
“Young vampires do,” Frankie said, propping himself up on his elbow. “Old ones? They can go
decades without feeding. Maybe even centuries.”
Snod was surprised once again by how little the Order understood what they had sworn to hunt. He
was tempted to ask about Frankie’s Maker, the mission he’d been given from Sanguis floating there in
the back of his mind.
But then he remembered Frankie dancing in his arms last night and he willfully ignored it, asking
