The Wind's Call (The Broken Lands #4) - T.A. White Page 0,64

his equine face.

She'd had a feeling he'd have that reaction.

A small whisper of sound reached them, the furtive nature of it arousing Eva's suspicions. She stuck her foot in a slat, climbing up the wall as silently as she could. She had nothing close to Ajari's ability to slip unseen and unremarked through the world, but she was pretty proud of herself when she spotted a ginger head as its owner crept around the side of the wagon.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Kent started, jerking back from where he'd been trying to peer into the wagon. Ajari was beside him in the next second, grabbing the back of his shirt and jerking him to face Eva where she still clung to the wagon wall.

"Now, what are you doing?" she asked Ajari in exasperation.

He aimed a feral smile her way. "Making sure the mouse doesn't scurry back to its burrow."

The mouse in question squeaked, unease chasing across his face.

Eva thought it telling that Ajari referred to all humans as mice, even her, the supposed intermediary. It made her wonder how the Tenrin really saw humans, alliance or not. Or, perhaps it was a facade Ajari put up to protect himself.

"Oi, let him go," a strident voice shouted.

Vincent strode up to the wagon from where he and the others had been taking a break a few feet away. His cheeks were red with anger and his chest pushed out. Hate and fear had turned his face ugly.

"The likes of you got no right to be laying your hands on us," Vincent spat.

Ajari cocked his head, his expression unimpressed as a sly smile spread across his lips. "You're welcome to come and get him."

Vincent's face darkened further as something approaching rage descended. He lunged at Ajari, his hands outstretched. Ajari slid out of the way, taking his captured prey with him.

The other throwaways started for them.

Eva was tempted to leave the throwaways to learn why mythologicals were such fearsome creatures. If she intervened, she knew she wouldn't be thanked for it.

Unfortunately, the Trateri were beginning to take notice of the small drama occurring next to the wagon. They, at least, knew how terrible the Tenrin could be. They didn't need another reminder.

"Ajari, enough. Let him go," Eva ordered.

Ajari stilled, glancing up at her, the predator still in his gaze. She didn't move, cognizant of how close to death she was in that moment.

She stared down at him with an implacable expression. If he wanted to make her his spokesperson, his intermediary, then he was going to listen when she spoke. Otherwise, this entire thing was just a farce, and she, just a puppet.

She was no one's doll to pick up and play with when it was convenient.

Ajari smirked, releasing Kent and stepping back. With a powerful leap he landed on the wagon wall, scaling it until he perched atop it. There he sat, cleaning his claws as he smugly watched the throwaways gather below Eva where she still clung to the wall’s edge.

Her arms shook, as holding herself up was beginning to take a toll. Sebastian shifted under her, his strong back coming up to meet her feet. She hesitated only a moment—using him as a step stool felt wrong—before deciding it was that or fall.

The throwaways milled at the base of the wagon, looking up at the mythological, rage in their posture. All the anger they couldn’t give to the Trateri was spilling out with a new, safer—in their minds at least—target.

"You going to let a woman play your strings like that?" Vincent asked, his smirk vicious as his gaze moved between the two of them.

Eva was quiet, waiting to see how Ajari would respond.

"Why wouldn't I?" Ajari asked. "Her iron hand is wrapped with velvet and I find I have no need for freedom quite yet."

Vincent paused, his expression confused before his gaze shifted to Eva. "Is this what you've been reduced to? Sleeping with monsters?"

"Why is it when some men are faced with a woman in power, they always assume she's slept her way to the top?" Eva asked coldly. She didn't care what these men and their little minds thought. "You should be thankful I stopped him and be on your way."

Vincent didn't want to go. That much was obvious, more so, because it was a woman telling him to. A Lowland woman who should know her place.

She could see the refusal on his face and braced. Ajari dropped the pretense of cleaning his claws as he prepared to