Monsters

Asher - Age 17: 1st Block

Asher grunted as he ended up on his back again, Fallon's claws at his throat. 

"Good," Mrs. Cougar called. "Again." 

Fallon offered Asher a hand, and Asher took it with a smile and a compliment, "Damn, you're strong." 

Fallon grinned, "I'm planning to Mate-Claim a Weildon. I've got to be on top of my game." 

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to make it easy on you. I've got a reputation to protect," Asher reminded him. 

Fallon rolled his eyes, "Yes, you and that all-important reputation. Can't have anything tarnishing that." 

They dropped into fighting stances again, proceeding to  grapple, punch, and block as they talked. Around them the other Vamps were also practicing under the watchful eye of Mrs. Cougar. 

Since Fallon had enrolled four years ago he and Asher had frequently been assigned as sparring partners. The reason was simple--no other Vamp at the school was at their level in either physical strength or paranormal power. 

At first it had irked Asher, knowing the other Vamp could beat him. Dreadfuls, the Vampire alphas, were always either Blood or Nightmare Vamps; Fantasy Vamps were simply built different, less prone to aggression and more prone to submission. With Fallon's mother being a Weildon Leonas, the bloodline of kings, Fallon didn't fit into the normal Vamp hierarchy. He didn't want power, but he also wouldn't cower or be dictated to by anybody--including Asher. He became a force all of his own. 

Ironically, as much as Fallon was a headache to try to control--since controlling the other Vamps was Asher's job as Dreadful--Fallon was also the closest thing to a friend Asher had at school. Underlings were always grappling for more power, more favor, and a chance to be the top dog someday. Fallon just didn't care. 

And Fallon knew Asher's secrets. All of them. 

Over the years they hadn't just been physical sparring partners--they'd also been power-sparring. It wasn't prideful to admit that Asher was one of the best at creating nightmares and wake-terrors. After all, aside from Bram and Kirg, who else had more real-life horror to draw inspiration from? Asher also knew that while outwardly Fallon was a cheerful flirt that seemed to have everything handled, inwardly he was a brooding mess looking for some sort of stability and hope. 

Recently Hase and her family had given that to him. 

Asher was pulled from his thoughts by a well-timed fist. He glared at the grinning blond circling him. 

"'Stay out of your head, or you'll end up on your ass,'" Fallon warned. 

"Are you really quoting Ares right now?" Asher rolled his eyes. 

"Hey, best friends are close. But I guess you'd know that," Fallon grinned. 

Asher frowned, "Are you trying to say something, Fallon?" 

Asher leapt forward, but Fallon easily spun out of reach. If Bram was a raging wild bull, then Fallon was a prancing show horse. Bram was all quiet, raw power, strength, and force of will. Fallon was flashy, adaptable, fluid, and evasive. Between the two of them Asher felt he got a pretty varied workout everyday. 

"I don't have to say anything," Fallon teased. "We both know what I'm talking about--who I'm talking about." 

Asher's eyes narrowed, and he feinted left before punching with his right. Fallon's breath left him in a grunt, and Asher's lips twitched upwards--just a little. 

"Cheap trick," Fallon gasped, holding his stomach. 

"Quit the drama, Fallon," Asher rolled his eyes. "We both know your mom's boyfriends hit harder than that."