The Wind's Call (The Broken Lands #4) - T.A. White Page 0,148
chest. The Trateri healers could help Caden. She only needed to get him to them.
He closed his eyes as a rusty laugh escaped him. "No choice."
"There's always a choice," she told him fiercely.
"Fool," he whispered as his head fell back. His hand went slack in hers.
"Caden." She shook him, his head lolled, his body boneless. "Caden, come on. We have to go."
He didn't answer. She put her fingers to his neck, checking for his pulse. She found none.
Grief was a wild thing in her breast.
She hugged him to her, shocked at how abruptly this powerful man had slipped from this world. Tears stung her face as grief tore a hole in her. It shouldn't have felt this consuming, not after their short time together. Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath.
A great yawning chasm opened, consuming her from the inside out. Numbness soaked through even as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks.
Movement in the trees announced their presence.
Vincent led them, but he wasn’t the leader. The man behind him was, his features strong and blunt, his body muscular. Cruelty was stamped on his face as he took in Eva, sitting with Caden's head still cradled on her lap.
The authority with which he carried himself meant he could only be one person—Pierce. The ringleader.
He was the man Darius and Caden had been hunting all this time. The man in the shadows, forcing others to do his bidding.
Power lay over him like a mantle. Dark. Possessive.
Eva’s instincts whispered that he didn’t control the power. Instead, it had chosen him, but should he fall it would move on, like a parasite looking for a new host.
His power filled her with a sense of alien wrongness, making her want to flee.
"This is where he ran off to, then," Pierce said.
Eva didn't answer, her words locked inside. Truthfully, she was barely aware of their presence as she struggled to come to terms with Caden's death.
Even in her shock, she could tell the leader was from the Highlands, the men at his side too. Darius would be happy his trap bore fruit, she thought numbly.
"Where are the winged horses?" Pierce asked.
Eva didn't answer, looking down at the still form in her arms. The smallest of breaths stirred his chest.
Hope pushed back the numbness.
He wasn't dead. Not yet.
"Caden," she whispered, brushing her fingers across his cheek.
"Finish him and bring the girl," Pierce said, frustration coloring his tone. "Maybe we'll get more out of her with a little incentive."
That had Eva scrambling to her feet, the sword Caden had let fall clutched in her hands. "You won't touch him."
Her voice felt like it belonged to someone else. Raw. Fierce. Powerful.
Pierce smiled in amusement. "What are you going to do with that? You can barely hold it up."
True enough. The sword shook in her hands, partly because of the weight, partly from the fatigue dragging at her limbs. She was tired and it showed.
"There are many more of us than there are you," he said, his voice oddly coaxing.
The sound of it wrapped around her. Whispering, whispering, whispering. All the while compelling, working on her will as the man stood there and watched her with eyes confident of his victory.
He was like her, she realized. Caden had been right. He was myein. Only he used his voice to bend someone's will instead of communicating with them.
Men stepped from the trees all around him, their eyes locked on Eva. A few chuckled, the sight of her clutching the sword not even the barest of threats.
"You're not a warrior," Pierce said, still using that voice on her. "What can you do with that?"
He was right. She wasn't a warrior. That was Caden's domain and he'd already fought as hard as he could.
"You're right. There's nothing I can do with this." The smile that crossed her lips wasn't kind. It wasn't nice, and it had little in common with the person she strove to be. It was vicious, hateful. More suited to a mythological than a girl who loved horses.
The sword clattered to her feet.
Her talents lay elsewhere. People kept telling her she was a Caller. It was time she called something to her to see if they were right.
The leashes she kept shackled around her heart fell away. An immense toll rolled out from her. Silent, but with the echo of a thunderous bell. Its knell was filled with her need and desperation.
"What was that?" Vincent asked, his eyes scouring the clearing.