Shadow Visions: Shadow Warriors, Book 2 (2 page)

The nightmare swam before her. She saw the knife plunge downward and winced, willing the image away.

She inhaled deeply, needing to banish the smell of death that coated her nose, throat and tongue. A combination of sea and fumes laced the misty morning air…and another odor, an incongruent smell. She inhaled again. Memories of her abuelo and his Aztec stories came to mind. The scent was familiar. Incense.

She sniffed delicately, intent on tracking it, when an eagle cried overhead. She glanced skyward, searching for the large bird, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of the bird of prey. “Aren’t you far from home, big guy?” She spoke softly, mesmerized by the beauty of the eagle.

Shaking off her fascination, she rounded the building and pulled up short. A second warehouse paralleled the first one, and up on the west corner of the building the eagle came in for a landing. She could have sworn the wings should be brown, but this eagle’s wings seemed spun of gold. The bird cocked its head, as if looking directly at her.

The bird screeched again. The magnificent eagle tugged at her, made her want to forget her responsibilities and simply fly up to the heavens. Ixa blew out a breath and dragged her gaze back to the ground, back to reality and to a killer who seemed fixated on women with hummingbird tattoos.

She shivered despite the heat generating from the hummingbird mark she bore.

Chain-link fence surrounded the property, which meant there was only one way in and out, unless he scaled the fence. But then there was no way to drag a victim over a ten-foot-tall fence with barbed wire at the top. So how did they get in? She followed the pavement that led to the back of the warehouse, aware of the tiny weeds sprouting up in cracks and the numerous tread marks smudging up the cement from trucks bearing heavy loads.

The eagle let out a screech, spread its mighty wings and took flight, leaving her alone in the tight alleyway, with only dumpsters taking up space. She paused, letting her senses attune themselves to the environment. This part of the lot couldn’t be seen from the front entrance. Ixa halted and swept her gaze over the area. Why had the killer chosen this location? What connection did he have to it?

The shadow of the eagle passed over the ground. She spotted rust-colored droplets near her foot. They looked like blood.

Ixa pulled out her cell phone and punched in her partner’s number. Static greeted her. “Come on, I need Boyle and Forensics out here,” she muttered as she swept the area with her eyes, aware of the bird circling above.

Frowning, she cut the connection and tried again. Same result. “Piece-of-shit technology.” She jammed the phone into her pocket.

The whisper of the wind warned her first. The hummingbird on her skin burned fiercely and pulled to get free. Pain stabbed her bicep. She gritted her teeth, determined to stay focused. Her senses heightened and she became aware that she no longer stood alone. She unholstered her weapon and gripped it, comfortable with the familiar weight in her hand.

Ixa spun around, her weapon braced in front of her. “Police. Put your hands up.”

From between the dumpsters, a man slowly emerged, his head covered by the hood of a tattered sweatshirt. He seemed at one with the shadows, and when he faced her, she’d swear serpent eyes glowed from underneath the hood.

“Keep your hands where I can see them. Take two steps forward. Do it now!”

He stepped forward and the sunlight hit him full on the face, causing Ixa to gasp in recognition. At one time, the face would have been considered moderately good-looking, but with half the skin peeled back from his brow to his jaw, he was every child’s nightmare come to life.

“Salvatore Galante. There’s no way you can be out. I locked you up for life.” Half man, half skeleton, he looked like the walking dead. What the hell had happened to him?

“So nice to see you again, Ixa.” When he said her name, a chill ran up her spine. Memories from the past blew through her mind in a flurry of images. A man twenty years younger with the same smug expression on his face, wearing the colors of his gang, aiming a gun right at her father’s heart.

Which was exactly where she was pointing her gun, except this time the tables were turned on him.

“You think your bars could hold me?” He laughed. The sinister sound echoed between the two warehouses. “Just like you, I made a pact with a god—one far more powerful than yours.”

She heard his words clearly but refused to accept his meaning. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Of course you do.” He sneered with half his face. “I know what I saw that night—a child who blew me away. Literally. That was some trick.” He put his hands in front of his face and blew out a gush of air over his fingers. “And poof, an instant hurricane.”

Ixa hated to remember, hated giving credence to his words, even though she knew exactly what he meant. She had been so frightened. She had just wanted the flames to go away, to make the bad man stop hurting her family. It was the first time she had felt her power over the wind rise, and she had no control over it. The wind should have blown out the flames but instead it had fed the fire and made it grow bigger, hotter and higher. The screams of her sister and mother tore at her soul. She squeezed the gun, never taking her eyes off the killer in front of her.

“You’re not going to play your mind games with me. You’ve been messing with the product. Too much meth turns you into a dumb shit.” To think otherwise would drag her back into a world she wanted no part of. “Hands behind your head,
pendejo
! Get down on your knees. Do it, Galante.” The man was a vicious drug lord who’d left a trail of bodies behind him. She didn’t know how he’d gotten out of prison, but he was going back.

He laughed hard and harsh. “Nothing can stop me! Metztli will reign supreme and I’m going to rule this town again. But first, I’m going to take you out. Something I should have done a long time ago, when I capped your old man.”

“Don’t you mention my father. You have no right!” Deep inside, something shifted. She actually felt the instant her elemental power released and expanded. The feeling grew, pushing upward, a pressure she knew intimately but hadn’t experienced in years. Her anxiety increased tenfold. All around her the wind kicked up. Debris in the alley smacked up against their bodies.

Galante raised his hands to the wind. “Just like old times. You freaked me out then, but not now. I’ve got my own power.”

Galante rushed at her in a blur of speed before she could even get one round off. He slammed into her hard, knocking her flat on her back. Her gun flew out of her hand and skidded under the dumpster.

Ixa swung for his jaw, but he pinned her arms down, his superior strength immobilizing her. He had to be hopped up on meth. She clutched at the explanation, conveniently ignoring everything else. She twisted and heaved with all her might, trying to knock him off her, and shouted for help at the same time.

Where the hell were the other cops?

Galante stared down at her, a cruel smile on his lips. His eyes appeared flat, as if his very soul had been sucked out of his body. His skeletal face pressed closer. He opened his mouth and green goo oozed down the side of his chin.

Anxiety rose and adrenaline kicked in. She couldn’t afford to panic, but she couldn’t fight her growing apprehension. He would kill her. She knew it.

Ixa feared the man on top of her, but she feared her destructive wind power more. It was unpredictable and she had no control over it. The wind swirled in the alley, creating a minitornado.

From high above, the eagle screeched. Galante’s head whipped up. Beyond him, Ixa saw a large shape diving toward them, riding on the wind she had inadvertently summoned.

Sharp talons aimed right for the two of them.

With the precision of an advanced weapon, Manuel tucked his wings in at his sides and bulleted toward the pair on the ground. His eagle spirit eyed the target and let out a sharp cry, anticipating sinking its talons into the demon.

He felt the hunger consuming his spirit, the need to devour the demon. More and more with each hunt and each kill, Manuel watched his humanity slip away, his animal spirit fighting him for control. It was the price he paid for his immortality and service to his god. Manuel knew he had little time left before he succumbed to his beast. As a tribe leader, he had picked and chosen his battles, and as an eternal warrior of Huitzilopochtli he did the same. He never took on a mission just for the hunt. He chose the ones that posed the most risk.

Like the demon below.

At the last moment, he pulled up and reversed. His talons stretched towards the evil abomination pinning the woman to the ground. The demon lifted its arm up to protect its head. Manuel never paused. He plucked the demon off the woman and launched skyward.

The demon hissed and cursed and then spewed a stream of fire.

Manuel dropped the creature, taking satisfaction in the loud thud when the demon hit the asphalt and lay in a stunned heap.

He flew up high before plunging once again towards the ground, his target always in sight.

He thought of the two dead women. Each of them bearing a hummingbird tattoo. Each of them a possible spirit mate to a shadow warrior.

Shadow warriors had long given up hope of finding a woman marked with the sign of Huitzilopochtli. But Tomás, another shadow warrior, recently found Carolina, a guardian marked with the tattoo. She nearly died at the hands of a demon trying to kill the water goddess. Together Tomás and Carolina fought off the serpent god bent on destroying the Earth. For their love and bravery, the sun god made them spirit mates for all eternity. With their union, Tomás regained his humanity, never to fear losing himself to his beast.

Either of the dead women could have been a spirit mate, the one woman with the ability to save a shadow warrior from losing his humanity completely.

Manuel had arrived too late to save them. He’d failed.

The eagle didn’t care about spirit mates or Manuel’s battle to hang on to his humanity. It was hungry. The demon was a meal he intended to drag back to the netherworld and devour.

At the last second, Manuel veered to the left and landed close by, shifting to human form. Bones crunched and reshaped until he stood straight on human legs. He clothed himself in traditional Aztec dress, a white cotton loincloth embroidered with gold as befitted his elite status, a former tribal chief. Feathers adorned his hair and hung like a mantle over his chest and back. In his hand he carried his
atlatl,
a tool which enabled him to throw his spear and darts great distances.

Manuel spared a glance for the woman still on the ground. She stared at him wide-eyed, her mouth open. Even disheveled and bruised, he could not deny her beauty. Dark strands of hair whipped around her face. Almond eyes rimmed in dark lashes framed equally dark irises that seemed fathomless and full of secrets. For a moment, he forgot the demon. He stepped toward her, wanting to reach out and brush aside her hair to get a deeper look into her eyes. The eagle inside pressed outward to grab his attention, but he pushed the beast back down. Briefly, they battled for control and Manuel doubled over in pain. The eagle would not be denied its meal. His animal spirit screeched in his head, making its thoughts clear—if it could not have the demon it would satiate its hunger with the flesh of the wounded
cihuatl
.

Manuel stood up and raged back against his beast. “You will not touch the woman!” His primal scream made the eagle back down. It also made the cihuatl scoot back from him. Fear shone bright in her eyes.

His angry reaction caught him by surprise. It had been centuries since he had felt human emotions. He looked at the woman on the ground, studying her with greater interest. She stirred emotions when he thought he had none left. He stepped towards her, the need to find out if she was his spirit mate driving him.

Behind him, the demon growled.

His need for the woman would have to wait. The demon was back on his feet.

Manuel let out a warrior’s cry and raced forward to battle.

Chapter Two

Ixa stared in disbelief at the powerful man looming over the scene. He looked like some kind of ancient warrior from another civilization. Hard muscles stretched over bone and sinew, every sharp angle of him chiseled perfection. A shot of desire tore right through her. Gorgeous and wild, he carried himself with an air of arrogance. But what caught her attention the most were his eyes and the way he looked at her, as if he saw through to her very soul.

Her tattoo flared, reminding her of the danger she was in.

She crab-crawled backwards from both men, then flipped over and forced herself up on her feet. Where was her weapon? She had to find it fast. With a quick look over her shoulder, she experienced relief that neither man seemed to be paying attention to her. Her mind couldn’t stop thinking about the eagle becoming a man. It was right out of the stories her abuelo had told, ones she’d barely listened to because she refused to believe in gods that would destroy a child’s world and leave her to deal with the crippling guilt. Only she couldn’t deny or ignore what she was seeing. It was all too real, but she would find a way to deal with it all later. Much later. Right now she needed to get the situation under control.

She spied her gun under the dumpster and stretched out her hand for it. Her fingers closed over the cold steel and she pulled her Sig 229 out, fitting it into a two-handed grip. The two men were locked in struggle, oblivious to her. “Freeze!”