“Then a Fury can be beaten. We don’t have to worry about that with Skuld if we have the help of the Guardians,” Adonis reasoned.
Zahara snorted. She’d been quiet, and the only one who hadn’t gotten out of her seat, but now her snort turned into a full-blown laugh.
“What?”
“You t’ink t’at’s all, chile? Some runes and it all ova? Ask him how many died, yeah? How many died so t’at he could live.”
Eyes swung to Torin. “One thousand. They couldn’t kill me, only contain me. And then the National Mage Council thought it be better to have me on their side instead of a threat possible to attack them. I am ... bound.”
Silva sucked in a breath. “Bound how?”
Torin shrugged. “To the land. Mother Earth herself.”
“A Fury is made to destroy, completely,” Silva added. “They are a weapon brewed to break the very ground.”
“And if you broke free and did that, you’d be killing yourself.” Adonis whistled. “Effective. And you’d be driven to protect it as well.”
Torin nodded. “You now know what only a very small group is aware of. It is only because of the Ales and this threat that you know now.”
Carlo’s jaw dropped. “You knew, Kalinda?”
“Not exactly, but I knew the terms of Torin’s ... imprisonment.”
“So is she sending a Fury after us?”
Arturo’s question brought everyone back to the table, although Adonis leaned more toward Dominic than Torin on his left. Carlo couldn’t blame him.
Nanshe shook her head. “I cannot be for certain. Her best chance was Asherah, but things can change. There are many ways to kill, are there not?”
“Meaning we aren’t in the clear at all. So she’s coming at us, and we’ve got to be prepared for whatever she throws. I swear we’ve gone from Mafia to world defenders overnight.”
Adonis laughed. “Speak for yourself, Arturo. The Moonstone has never been as simple as aMafia.”
Carlo wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole. The Moonstone Pack truly was more vicious than any Mafia, but that wasn’t something to say with Made Men in the room.
Arturo glared at the other Alpha, his wolf visibly pulsing under his skin for a moment. “Is that a challenge, Adonis?”
Adonis wasn’t one to be cowed, his own wolf pushing until his canines elongated. “We’re more likeZetasthan Capone.Entiendes?”
Silva sat forward. “Los Zetas? You dudes are brutal.”
“I said ‘like,’ Silva, so imagine what we are. Be thankful we decided we enjoy staying out of the middle of bullshit.”
A delighted smile spread across Silva’s face. “Can you get me a Singer 1911A1, original, none of that fake bullshit? I’ll love you forever.”
Adonis’s smile was appreciative and dark. “Oh, a woman who knows her ... guns. I may have one or a hundred under lock.”
“There’s only five hundred of those likeever.”
“Well, yes, little warrior. And I plan to own them all.”
Silva sagged in her seat with a moan. “You can totally deal with four hundred ninety-nine and give me one. Pretty please.”
Silva tossed Adonis a pleading look, duck lips and all, and it was enough to lighten the tension in the room. She glared at everyone who chuckled.
“I am so serious about that gun,” she groused.
“I know you are, and I may just have to get it for you. But only if you’re a very, very good girl.”
