Chapter 74 The Change in the Air* (1/2)

There was something wrong. At first, because he'd learned not to care at all, he hadn't quite worked out what it was. He drained the slave he was given, and waited for them to take out the body and move on their way so he could get on with his lesson and not be disturbed. But the way they moved, the way they glanced at him out of the corner of their eyes. They seemed...it took a while for Rassa to put a finger on it. Scared? No, they were always scared, this was different. Disgusted? No, that look was different...Cautious? Why were they cautious? Sure they were always cautious, but they seemed to be testing him, weighing him in their hands and seeing what he was capable of, what he could do to them. As if they didn't know already.

It disturbed Rassa to no end. What exactly were they waiting for? When Victor perked up from the depths of Rassa's soul, Rassa hushed him.

'What?' Victor had asked.

'Something's not right,' Rassa insisted.

Victor had sighed, 'Is there anything that is right in this place? Go into specifics'.

Rassa recalled the way they had looked at him, and Victor grew slightly hesitant as well. Though, the arrogant Vampire within him was less cautious than Rassa himself.

'Shall we get on with the lesson?'

Rassa hesitated a moment, 'Not tonight. I don't like this'.

'You still have much to-'

'Not tonight' Rassa hissed.

It was the first time that Rassa had shown any form of dominance over Victor. If Victor was being honest, it surprised him a little.Was he pissed that a little fledgling was daring to speak against him?

Yes.

Annoyed that he hadn't the body nor the will to subdue Rassa himself?

Certainly.

But just an inkling...a tiny part of him that he thought was reserved only for the children he'd never had the chance to have.

That part was proud.

Oh how far this little fledgling had come since he'd entered the cave where Victor and his brethren had dwelled.

Just because of that, Victor retreated back to where he'd come.

Rassa, positive that something was going to go terribly wrong, scanned his cell despite the fact that he knew he would find nothing to help him. Nothing that could really help him to escape. In the end, his eyes landed on the cot that he'd been chained to plenty of times before. He wasn't going to be chained to it again.

Rassa made no attempt to be quiet as he stalked towards the cot. It was made of iron, not anthrite, but it would have to do.

He extended his claws, then tested them against the metal, dragging his claw across to see how deep of a groove it created, to see how sharp his claws were. The whining metal roused the woman next door.