Page 41 of High Seas

“Shut up, Titus.” My face felt hot and I turned my attention to the sea so he wouldn’t notice and make fun of me. “We haven’t kissed in this time. It was… before.”

He grinned.

“Stop it.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not surprising, I just didn’t know the juicy details. I wonder if mine tastes different, too.”

I shrugged. “There’s only one way to tell, and I’m not sure you want Terah or Enoch to bite you.”

“Wait,” he paused dramatically. “Does this mean I don’t have a chance with you now?”

I laughed. “You never did.”

“You say that, but deep down, do you really mean i—” His voice cut off abruptly, a strangled sound eeking from his throat. Enoch had lifted him with one hand and was dangling him over the ship railing.

I jumped up. “What are you doing?” I shrieked.

Titus stayed still as the waves rose and fell, brushing over the hull of the ship, over his feet, over his knees. He knew better than to struggle. If he wiggled away, he would be at the mercy of the sea.

“I grow tired of the way he speaks to you, and I’ve warned him repeatedly,” Enoch growled.

“That’s just how we talk in our time. It’s a joke! We joke a lot, Enoch. You can’t take everything so seriously or so literally.”

“Still, he could be more courteous,” Enoch argued.

“Enoch, let him go,” I demanded, staring at him.

Titus waited until Enoch drew him in, but as soon as his feet hit the deck and Enoch let go of his tech suit, Titus exploded. “Eve and I are friends, but more than that, we’re teammates. We’ve been through hell together. So, yes, we tease and joke, but no, I’m not really interested in her romantically. And if you hate the way we converse, perhaps you should focus your hyper-sensitive vamp hearing in another direction and stop eavesdropping on everything we say.”

Titus looked to me for backup.

“He’s right, Enoch.”

My Nephilim looked taken aback, so I explained it in a way that might finally make it sink in for him. “We’re like you and Terah, really.”

“I do not make advances toward my sister,” he defended.

“I’ll stop making those jokes,” Titus gestured toward me, “if you’ll stop threatening me with knives and drowning and all the other horrible ways you can think of for me to die.”

Enoch nodded once. “You have my word.”

“Good,” Titus nodded.

Maybe they’d finally reached a tentative, if not odd, understanding of one another. They were both important to me, which meant they were going to have to learn to get along.

“To answer your question, Titus, Eve’s clones’ blood do not taste the same as hers. It was one way I knew for certain it wasn’t really Eve that I was turning. As for your blood, I’d have to taste it to see.”

Titus stiffened. “Hard pass.”

I stepped toward him. “Please? Titus, just let him taste a drop.”

“Then what?” he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You saw him down there, Eve. He controls the clone vampires.”

“I’d have to sire you to have any control over you,” Enoch explained. “And even if I was, saying one thing incorrectly could break the thrall.”

Titus smirked and I knew what he was about to say before he said it. “Yeah, you should really work on your stamina, Enoch. You’ve got to master the control so you can last for hours, maybe even days or weeks. Minutes, or even seconds? That’s really disappointing…”

Enoch nodded sagely, Titus’s attack on his manhood going right over his head. “I will certainly try harder the next time I sire a vampire.”

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