Zorro The Gay Blade Cast Novels & Stories

Turning on his heel, Kaze approached Eunice and said indifferently, “Now, can you answer to me? “I’m not asking for much. We’ll just go along with your rules. “A broken finger for a frame job.” Color drained from Luis and Zenika’s faces. Fighting back his physical agony, Luis yelled with all his might, “My buddy will make you pay if you break my finger, Lee! “He’s Zoro, the GM of Bronze Sparrow. He is Mr. Weather’s right-hand man! “I can promise you that you won’t walk out of here alive if you harm me on his turf.” Kaze kept his gaze on Eunice throughout.

Blade's menacing glare. “Luna is dead, and Loki is seriously wounded... it's time for a new leader to run this pack.” Blake announced as she moved closer to Mr. Blade, standing by his side. “And my first order, all three traitors should be sent to ‘The night’ to be tortured before the execution date, which will be the next full moon!”

Something was happening. Zahur’s man saw my distraction and struck. His blade whipped across my arm like a line of fire, but he didn’t bring his guard up in time, so I jabbed my knife directly into his gut. He slumped, and I slit his throat to make certain he was dead.

Yori taunts and drips ice into both Soral's and Vidarr's veins. What's he talking about? Vidarr wants to ask, but Yori suddenly barks out “Kill him!” He commands the other two males while drawing out his blade as well. Three blades come out, and they all charge. Vidarr doesn’t blink; his dark eyes never leave his enemies; the cold, vicious glint in his eyes is something Soral recognizes too well. Vidarr also had the same savage look before ripping those wolves' throats. One of the males lunges—blade high in the air.

"He took out four guys by himself?" "Yeah, from the Roth gang." The Roth gang? That bastard took over my gang?! I jolted awake. "What'd you do to him? How badly did you beat him?" someone asked. "Not at all." Dammit. Where am I? I tried moving but quickly realized I was tied to a fucking chair. A shadow loomed in front of me. Tracksuit. Vulture tattoo. Cigar breath mixed with whiskey. Cormac "The Blade."

Gonzalo countered, a feral, twin-to-twin grin mirroring my own. We moved as one. I was the hammer, driving Enzo back with heavy, bone-crushing swings of my blade, while Gonzalo was the needle, darting into his guard with surgical precision. Enzo swiped with his own tainted steel, his eyes wide and wild, desperate to find an opening, but there was no space for him to breathe.