10-27-2019, 09:26 PM
The stench of blood wrinkled her nose. The inquisitor stepped into the breach, anger spilling over, but since he tended to the injured woman Tenzin did not intervene further. Dark eyes appraised the woman with something approaching interest, and certainly curious, but it curtailed the moment fury popped like a bubble in the man beside her. Her brows rose a fraction. Emotions did not sway so quickly without intervention, not when they smelled so strongly. And suddenly Tenzin recognised a seed of uninvited lust in herself, and understood.
By then the van door shoved rudely closed.
Tenzin flexed the arm the woman’s touch had caressed like it suddenly felt dirty, watching as she was pressed into the passenger seat. Athari here hunted such creatures, but the idea turned Tenzin’s stomach. And she was the inquisitor’s problem now.
Her gaze bounced to Jacinda, brushing against knuckles probably stinging. She had trusted the woman more times than she could count, and would again, but trust in a pack -- even a pack of two -- worked both ways. Therein lie the problem, of course, when Tenzin’s morals diverged on the matter of prey. Jacinda had fought with Nox once, and cretin or not the inquisitor would need their help against a channeler, even if he was too foolish to accept it. That was where duty was.
She still had hold of that arm. Now she used it to pull Jacinda away.
“Following a girl,” she murmured, indicating the house the inquisitor had been watching. She’d seen her on the screen; knew who to look for. “Don’t hunt children, Jacinda. Won’t let him use her. We go. But we go to protect her.”
It was what it meant: Atharim. Too long and too often forgotten.
By then the van door shoved rudely closed.
Tenzin flexed the arm the woman’s touch had caressed like it suddenly felt dirty, watching as she was pressed into the passenger seat. Athari here hunted such creatures, but the idea turned Tenzin’s stomach. And she was the inquisitor’s problem now.
Her gaze bounced to Jacinda, brushing against knuckles probably stinging. She had trusted the woman more times than she could count, and would again, but trust in a pack -- even a pack of two -- worked both ways. Therein lie the problem, of course, when Tenzin’s morals diverged on the matter of prey. Jacinda had fought with Nox once, and cretin or not the inquisitor would need their help against a channeler, even if he was too foolish to accept it. That was where duty was.
She still had hold of that arm. Now she used it to pull Jacinda away.
“Following a girl,” she murmured, indicating the house the inquisitor had been watching. She’d seen her on the screen; knew who to look for. “Don’t hunt children, Jacinda. Won’t let him use her. We go. But we go to protect her.”
It was what it meant: Atharim. Too long and too often forgotten.