The Fae Queen got it, though Carlo would have to ask later how points were attached to his balls. When he looked over, Silva’s smile was vicious, a challenge to the fear probably swirling in all of them.
Torin’s body elongated, going gray with a deathly pallor, but Carlo swallowed a scream when he saw Torin’s face. It was Chaos, twisted and shifting his bones and razor-sharp teeth.
It was rage. Agony. Terror.
Everything wrapped into one and contained in a package of pure destruction.
“A Fury,” Asherah whispered, but every wolf in the room heard her.
Just that fast it was gone, and Torin fell to his knees with a ragged breath. “Not nearly as powerful, or at full force.”
“You were a Fury?!” Silva’s screech echoed in the room.
“Yes. Once.”
Silva’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. “How the hell are you still alive and not crazy?”
“Because of the runes,” the Guardian answered.
“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 a Mafia.”
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 like Zetas than 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 like ever.”
“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.”
“Have you met me? Good isn’t in my vocabulary.”
Torin’s power rippled and shut up whatever Adonis had been poised to say. “We have a powerful enemy coming for us, and I have to listen to this? What else can you tell us, Nanshe?”
“Prepare, now. She is coming sooner than later.”
The tone in the room changed instantly.
Carlo looked at her gently. “How soon, tesoro?”
She was silent again, and Carlo groaned. That would take some getting used to. He changed tactics. “Do we have a month?”
“No.”
“Longer?”
“No.”
“Two weeks?”
“No.”
“A week?”
She was silent, and he decided to try that mental chat thing they did.
More than a week?
“Prepare like it’s tomorrow.”
Well, if nothing else, he could say it wasn’t tomorrow, since she’d said something, but that didn’t make him feel much better. His gaze met his Alpha’s, and Arturo nodded.
“Then we do what we can now. We each can go back to our areas and get our things in order. We can all stay in communication. The first to be attacked must relay to the others. Agreed?”
A ring of accepting answers echoed through the room.
Torin sat up straighter. “The Guardians will ward the outside as best we can. We will also temporarily disable the portal into the city.”
Kalinda groaned. “I understand why. I must contact the National Council on this, so they know to divert people elsewhere. They will want to know more.”
Yon stepped forward, his shifting face nearly making Carlo cringe. “They don’t need to know directly. You are the Ales and a member of the National Council and the leader of our Council. Technically, they know, yes?”
Kalinda shrugged. “Well, that’s a good answer. Hadn’t thought of that. But the less others may know, we can contain it.”
Arturo shook his head. “That’s if we think she’s only coming here. What if she goes somewhere else?”
“Then we deal with it. We can alert other cities to be on watch for anything suspicious and reach out for now,” Kalinda replied.
“Fine.” Arturo nodded. “I’ll get with Dominic to make sure the borders around our lands and the mage districts closest to use are covered.”
“We shall do the same with the entertainment area and the lower half of Encantado,” Adonis promised.
“The Renegades will patrol the outskirts for any warnings. We’re used to that sort of work,” Alexi offered.
“I can get wit’ sorcerers and witches t’ work on warding. If not’ing else, we can provide t’e lower mages wit’ some protection.”
“Nanshe, will you be returning to the In Between?”
Carlo’s wolf immediately fought against Heath’s question.
“No. I need to be here.”
And there went his wolf, howling in satisfaction.
Arturo nodded. “Then she stays with you, Carlo, as your responsibility. She’s your mate, and it’s your job. With preparations and an unknown in our midst, I expect you to stay close to her. Eiravel and Cynes, you will be with Isadora?”
Zoey squeaked. “First a Fury, then another ‘to-the-death’ scenario, and now you want me to keep the Unseelie men near her? I will protect my daughter, thank you very much.”
“They will be with her, Arturo, on detail twenty-four seven.”
“Dominic!” Zoey admonished.
“You will
be with her. And we will add Fabiana, since Pasquale and Giuliana will be busy. You are strong, my love, but this is stronger. The Unseelie are the best to be with her while I’m protecting the pack.”
“Good.”
Her prim smile made Carlo groan. Dominic walked right into that one, and easily.
Dominic blinked. “What?”
“I already knew that. You’ve been the one complaining. Eiravel and Cynes? Thank you, guys. There’d be no better hands other than my mate’s.”
The men bowed. “Of course, Zoey. Anything for Isadora.” Eiravel cut his glance toward Dominic, and the Alpha growled.
Zoey smacked Dominic on the arm. “Cut it out, Dom. You can punish me for it later. They have been protecting her anyway. They were obviously telling the truth that the bond is only half complete and nothing will change on that until Isadora can make the choice. Deal with it.”
Carlo coughed. “Then we have our orders?”
“We’ll send for another meeting if we have to. Thank you all for coming,” Arturo said, dismissing the meeting.
“It’s nice to sit at the table with the others. I may do this again.” Adonis’s gaze traced over the table before they stopped on Pasquale. He took a deep breath and frowned, his eyes glazing over.
“What is it, Alpha of the Moonstone?”
Pasquale talked less than even Arturo when he was watching, and his mate had taken on the trait since becoming the Alpha female of the Bianchi. Giuliana stepped forward, a united front. If Carlo hadn’t been watching them, he’d have missed it.
“I don’t know,” Adonis answered, shaking his head. He sniffed again. “I have no idea.” His eyes cleared, and he looked to Arturo. “I’ll be in touch as soon as prep is done.”
“As will I,” Torin agreed.
Arturo nodded. “Then we face what comes.”
As they all stood, Nanshe came to Carlo. “It seems we shall be together.”
“Almost as if it was planned,” Carlo hissed.
Nanshe lifted one brow. “Because I’d plan world annihilation just to be with you.”
Yeah, it sounded silly to him too, but he was grasping at straws. Proximity to Nanshe during the preparation time would not be easy. And with the saucy smile the minx gave him as she waited at the elevator, she knew it.
Goddess save him from a persistent woman.
“You’ve said that before. Funny, why would a Goddess save you from one of her own?”
Yeah, he should have thought about that, but men, just like a god, would have been too stubborn to see it.
“As I’ve said, stubborn male.”
Chapter Five
Fabiana slashed at her canvas like a woman gone crazy, specs of vibrant gold spreading over the white. With each twitch of her paintbrush, she delved deeper into the work she created. The dreams had gotten worse, so much worse. Each night they pulled her from the calm darkness into visions of things that flashed by too fast for her to make sense of anything.
Hurt.
Anger.
A broken woman screaming into the void of the Chaos Realm.
The Realm shattering and spilling out magic.
And now, worse than anything, was someone she knew.
Even as her mind processed it—after the other piece where she’d seen so many of her friends dead and torn—this one made her grow cold.
This one made her wonder if there was always something else inside of people they couldn’t show.
Like her.
Fabiana had lived too long acting a role, playing the part her father demanded from her so she wouldn’t hurt anymore, or others wouldn’t have to take her punishments. And that had fractured her, into a vixen and a mouse who wanted to hide away.
But the paintings made her step into the light. She couldn’t hide them, couldn’t shy away from the fact they were showing her something. Even if her logical mind made her fight against it and want to paint pretty landscapes with fluffy white clouds and glittering green trees.
Ever since the first piece, though, each additional painting had been of the Chaos Realm, where Asherah had been held prisoner. Fabiana hadn’t known who Asherah was until she’d met her when Heath saved the Fae from the Chaos Realm. Or the painting with the wolves racing toward the Scorched Earth, which then led to them realizing that’s where Heath had taken Silva. And then the one that brought Giuliana to her knees: a black with reddish tones wolf and the woman with red hair.
Something changed for Fabiana when she started doing these paintings like this. The scientist in her—which seemed an oxymoron when she had a creative soul—saw the facts.
One, Fabiana had painted them.
Two, she’d painted them long before things happened.
Three, events had occurred which lined up with the information made in color on the canvas.
Four, magic existed in the world, greater than any of them knew.
Taking all of those into account, Fabiana couldn’t ignore that her paintings were prophetic, future pending to be exact.
Finally, she rested. Her paintbrush fell to the container, the thwack of water accented by her grateful sigh. She couldn’t stop once she started one of these pieces, and this one had been more detailed and involved than the others. Almost as if the fog that normally crossed them was much thinner.
And she more than knew who the piece was about. She just didn’t understand what it meant. Carlo rose from the body of a half-shifted form of a wolf. It was the thing of nightmares, like the human versions of werewolves, standing on his hind legs, his body powerful and covered with thick, black fur. As it expanded up toward his chest, the fur gave way to glorious, tanned flesh, painted over with a hint of gold, like the sun trapped within his skin. His shoulders were impossibly broad, poised with barely contained magic. His face was more angular; Carlo and yet … more. His dark hair was wild around his face, crackling with electric power that glittered the same gold as his skin and blended in with the halo above his head.
Well, halo may have been the wrong word, but she couldn’t find another.
There was nothing angelic about it. Instead, it sizzled with life, a challenge to any who wouldn’t run from the terrifying picture he was. And because Fabiana was trapped in the vision, she knew what it truly was.
Chaos.
Harnessed Chaos.
An impossible feat, but she would have believed her paintings of the future were impossible a year ago. So she had to assume this painting was important and meant something to their future. With a choked sob, she hung her head. She was so tired of this, of being forced to do things she didn’t want to do. Others may have seen this power as something great, but the loss of control, her inability to even say no, broke off little pieces of her every time it happened.
All she wanted was to be in control of her own life. To finally be free of others’ influence—those who didn’t care if she wanted it or not. Her next cry rattled her chest. She just wanted to have a right, her own control.
Just once, let me be who I want to be.
“Cucciola.”
She knew who was behind her by the “puppy” endearment. His cold, wintery scent enveloped her and reminded her of their mother, Luciana, who she’d never had a chance to truly know. But the scent was enough to soothe. To pull her back from the brink of breaking under the hell of her life.
“I can’t stop it, brother. No matter what I do.”
Pasquale pulled her tighter, lifting her light frame onto his lap and rocking her, growling softly in a wolf sort of purr. The sound, his warmth, the strength in his arms, it all helped her take a breath. Just one, so she could see.
“I hate when you cry, cucciola. It always breaks my heart.”
“I’m so tired.”
“It’s another painting.”
Giuliana and Pasquale knew about them, and Fabiana couldn’t say she wasn’t grateful to Giuliana for helping her realize she could share it with what family she had left. If she hadn’t, her brother wouldn’t be here now to he
lp.
“Fabulous.”
A watery giggle escaped Fabiana at the nickname Giuliana had given her. “It’s easier just saying my name.”
“Except I want everyone to know just how Fabulous you are.”
Giuliana came further into the room, lowering to the floor and sitting back on her haunches. She cocked her head a bit in the way Fabiana had come to understand meant that Red—Giuliana’s wolf—was talking to her internally.
“Red says she has approved the name, and it’s the best. Well, not as amazing as Red or Snow, but it’s still awesome.”
The tightness in Fabiana’s chest eased, and a chuckle slipped out. “I think I like Fabulous just fine then.”
Fabiana loved how both of them didn’t look at the painting, waiting for her to give them permission. She wasn’t sure how they knew, how they always waited for her agreement before they did a thing. Within this house, at least, she could get some semblance of peace and feel free.
Until the visions came.
Fabiana sighed. “Take a look.”
“You first, sister. Are you okay?”
Giuliana’s green eyes were kind, and she nor her mate moved to look at the painting yet. Fabiana didn’t remember having that sort of loyalty from anyone in her life except for Pasquale. Their father, Primo, had made sure of it at every turn. He’d even denied them being able to call each other brother and sister, a secret that ended up with Pasquale hiding his Alpha power and nearly losing his chance at having his mate.
But the Lombardi Pack had welcomed them, over time, until they were a family. Giuliana and Pasquale were the Alpha and Alpha female of the Bianchi Pack under the power of Lombardi, but they all knew they stayed because Pasquale was making his mate happy.
And that he wanted the bond of family here.
They’d never separate from the Lombardi.
“I’m fine … sis.”
At Giuliana’s brilliant smile, Fabiana moved to untangle herself from her brother. “Okay, I’m sorry for being a wuss.”
The smile disappeared. “Hey, don’t do that. This shit is scary, and you had a bastard of a father. No one would just take this with ease, and you have an extra reason. Deal?”
Mated to the Chaos (Portal City Protectors Book 5) Page 4