Page 27 of High Noon

"I could say the same about you, Abram, but only one of us is right. And only one of us is in a position to put his money where his mouth is."

His head lolled forward for a second, but only long enough for him to catch a sudden burst of energy. He gripped the armrests and kicked off the floor with his feet. His chair pounded the dusty, wooden boards as he raged, letting out another frustrated scream.

"I'll kill you," he promised. "I will kill you before this is over, Titus." He cried out again, this time throwing his head backward.

Seeing Abram with fangs was something I still hadn't gotten used to, and probably never would. Not that he had that much time left. If one of the Nephilim didn't kill him, I’d have to. If he made it home, he would paint me and Eve as villains. Victor would probably believe him, and we would hang for treason. I couldn't let that happen. At this point, our survival depended on Abram’s actions. Not only was he a loose cannon, he hated Eve and I so much, there was no way to persuade him to see reason at this point.

No longer human, he was so staunchly against us that he couldn't even remember that we came here as a team.

And then he attacked us. He'd almost killed me.

If Eve hadn't jumped...

My heart raced through a montage of What-ifs. I balled my hands into fists.

"You're a coward, Titus," Abram called out in a shrill voice. "A coward, and you deserve to die."

I started toward him, but Asa put his hand out to stop me.

"Patience," he announced with a grin. Turning to Enoch, he said, "Brother," greeting Enoch with a level of sarcasm I thought only Eve could achieve. "To what do I owe this unexpected honor? I haven't seen you in... what? Eight, ten years? And yet you know exactly where to find me. Could it be that you've been watching me from afar? Ah, that must be it. You must be curious about my life here. It's actually a simple existence –"

"Don’t pretend you haven’t kept me in your sights as well. I couldn't possibly care less about your life," growled Enoch, who gestured to Abram. "I came because of him."

“Well, as you can clearly see, he’s in my custody.”

“Don’t flash your badge at me and expect me to shiver like the humans in these parts,” Enoch warned.

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Are you a sheriff or something?” I asked, glancing between them for confirmation.

Asa rolled his eyes and lifted the right panel of his vest, revealing a shining, silver star badge pinned to his shirt.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’d you do to get that? Eat the former sheriff?”

With a serious and disturbingly matter-of-fact tone that made my laughter evaporate faster than water in the desert, he answered, “Yes.”

Abram jumped, trying to get loose, gritting his teeth and hollering.

“Shut up,” Enoch spat. Abram instantly complied. He shut his mouth and stopped making noise, but continued to struggle against his bonds, stretching his fingers out and then balling his fists. “Stop trying to free yourself,” Enoch added wearily.

Abram stopped. His suit whirred to life, trying to heal him.

His dark eyes flashed over to where I stood. His eyes conveyed that while he had to obey whatever Enoch said, he hated it more than he hated me. More than he hated Eve. More than he hated anything.

He’d expected the transition to vampire to be one that set him free, that unleashed him against all the injustices he felt so righteous about rectifying, but found that nothing came free or easy. Nothing came without strings attached, even if sometimes those strings were comprised of silver chains with crosses strung along the links.

All he managed to do was trade Victor’s rule over his life, for Enoch’s. I wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Asa wasn’t kidding when he said he had guns. In truth, he had a small arsenal. Each pistol, rifle, and shotgun were carefully displayed along the cabin walls. He caught me admiring his collection. “I told you I had them.”

“How haven’t they been stolen?” I wondered aloud, taking in the delicate etching on the barrel of a few of the more intricate ones, the pearl inlaid into the handles on others.

“No one would dare try it.”

I bet not. “Do you have ammunition for all of them?”

“They’re all loaded, but yes, I have extra bullets for each,” he answered warily.

Loaded, huh?

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