Chapter 4 ((Daniel))

"Feeble?" I was half puzzled, half insulted.

"Feeble! Frail, shabby, meager, languid -" and he paused abruptly.

I held my tongue, swallowing my anger at his insulting words. Feeble? I thought, what was that supposed to mean? That I am wounded and weak? Feeble! I almost yelled those words.

But somehow I just knew he was not the kind of person you would like to mess up with.

He looked old, somewhat at his fifties; yet the striking blue eyes of his suggested he was a man of wisdom, and had been through lots of tough experiences that one could hardly bear in his life. And the long scar across his smooth pale cheek, stretching from his right ear till near his nose, he seemed fearsome with that hideous scar.

Suddenly he cocked his head to the left, as if catching some whispered conversations into his ears.

But of course I heard nothing.

I stood, staring at him, waiting for him to speak again.

And when he did spoke again, he surprised me.

"You heard that, Daniel?"

"Heard what?"

"Dian! She..." and out of the blue he burst into great laughter. "O you bloody boy! Not getting enough blood pumping in you, aye? How could you even lost your vampiric hearing?"

"I...wait,"something struck inside my head, "why...I thought...you were a Malkavian. Speaking with...words like 'Asian Daughter' or 'knight' something like that!"

"There you go, one slimy rat! Been eavesdropping, no? Well for your information, young lad, I only speak what Dian wishes to hear. But that doesn't mean I was lying, I simply used the tongue she likes to hear.'

"But..." my brain wasn't working well to find a better word, "crazy...you were crazy...not much people could actually imitate Malkavians speaking. They are crazy!"

And he laughed out loud again. "You are indeed an impressive kindred, Daniel. But I think there are some thing more which you'll have to learn. Let me guess, you're a Toreador?"

"Yes." I said automatically. I wasn't planning to answer him, he didn't have my trust; but the correct answer somehow just slipped through my lips.

"HA! HA!" he laughed again, and I was getting annoyed.

"Either ways you're crazy!" I grumped.

"I'm not surprised to hear that," his laugher reduced into a grin, "as being one-third of a Malkavian, I suppose it's part of my nature to be crazy. Yet as a two-third of Ventrue, I might also expect at least a bit of respect from about everyone."

And I could see through his eyes that the last sentence was no joke, and that made me nervous.

I paused for a while, didn't quite know how to answer him.

Then slowly, I said, "Bet you must have the best of both clans then. I'm sure you could gain everybody's respect; just a look at you and everyone would know you're a powerful one anyway."

For a few seconds he stared at me doubtfully, then his warm smile regained. Slowly he nodded as if acknowledging my words.

"So...may I know your name...sir?" with that he burst into laughter again.