Shadow Visions: Shadow Warriors, Book 2

by Gabriella Hewitt

  “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 int
o a two-handed grip. The two men were locked in struggle, oblivious to her. “Freeze!”

  The warrior broke free and paused at her command, but not Galante. He smashed past the feathered man and made a beeline straight for her.

  “Police! Freeze!” Ixa fired, hitting the criminal high in the shoulder. He kept on coming, his steps never slowing. Ixa fired a second round straight into his stomach. The bullet blew a hole in his center but it didn’t faze him. A few feet in front of her, his neck lengthened as if he were freaking Gumby and he shot a stream of ooze out of his mouth. The shot hit her high in the chest.

  The liquid burned through her windbreaker and cotton shirt. It sizzled and crackled as it melted the material. Smoke rose up. “Acid!” She stripped off her jacket, juggling her gun in the process—all the while trying to keep an eye on Galante—and then yanked her shirt off, leaving her in the Kevlar vest she’d donned before answering the earlier call. She didn’t always wear body armor under her clothes, but lately her instincts had been riding her to be prepared. Good thing she’d listened.

  Her arms remained bare, exposing her hummingbird tattoo. A bright light flared from her bicep. Her tattoo glowed brighter than the sun, slicing through the early morning mist, peeling back every single shadow.

  Galante shielded his eyes and shrieked.

  Even Ixa found the light blinding. She tried to keep her pistol trained on the drug lord but had to squeeze her eyes against the glare.

  She heard the feathered man shout in a strange language. Forcing her eyes open, she saw he held a dart in his hand. She didn’t need to understand what he said—she clearly got the message. She immediately jumped out of the way. He flicked his wrist and the dart flew through the air, piercing between Galante’s shoulder blades. Black ooze exploded from his back.

  “Metztli!” Galante shouted, and in a puff of smoke he was gone.

  “Where’d he go?” Ixa turned her head left and right, certain Galante had to be somewhere. She kept her gun up and tracked the area, expecting the drug lord to reappear at any moment. Nothing stirred. Just her and a tall, gorgeous, sweaty man with his heaving chest and bulging muscles remained.

  The light from her tattoo winked out, though the mark still tingled. The warrior moved. Ixa aimed her weapon at his heart. She wasn’t taking any more chances, and instinctively she believed this man the more dangerous of the two.

  “Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot.” Her gun shook in her hands as if she were a damn rookie. She fought to control her emotions but they swirled inside her. If she didn’t pull it together another tornado would manifest, and that frightened her more than the half-naked man with the eagle eyes in front of her.

  “Not another step,” she ordered, but he continued to stalk towards her.

  She held her stance. Her finger trembled on the trigger.

  He reached her. His chest pressed to the muzzle. He easily towered over her. She stared up into his golden eyes. No fear. Instead, she read another emotion in his eyes.

  Desire.

  She should have felt threatened, and she did, but not because she believed he meant to hurt her—it was much more fundamental than that. Her whole body seemed to come alive in his presence. Her breath shortened and she felt a flush stealing up underneath her tanned cheeks.

  She lowered her gaze and let her weapon fall to her side. Keeping her fingers tightly wrapped around the grip reminded her to remain grounded. Her reaction to him was so totally unlike her.

  Up close, she found herself staring at a broad chest covered with a mantle of feathers. The man was made of solid muscle. Without volition, her gaze traveled upward, noting the powerful shoulders, the hard jaw, the firm lips and the stern expression he wore.

  “You’re very brave, but your gun won’t help you against the tzitzimime.”

  Ixa swallowed, searching for her voice. “Who are you? What are you?”

  His hand came up. Gently, he traced the image of the hummingbird tattooed on her right bicep. Her muscle quivered under his touch. “Just as I thought. You bear the mark,” he murmured.

  In the distance she heard the confused shouts of her fellow officers. “They’ll be here soon.” They would have heard the shots. They’d be searching for her.

  “I distorted the sound so they check in a different area. They will not be upon us yet.”

  “You can do that?” It didn’t seem possible, except she didn’t have an explanation for anything that had happened. Her brain seemed to be functioning in first gear, unable to catch up to anything that required substantial thought.

  “I can do many things, you will find.”

  He cupped her chin and tilted her head. His golden eyes came closer until his head blotted out the sky and everything around her. Helpless, she waited for his lips to touch hers.

  His lips brushed hers, once, twice. She let out a sigh. He pressed down a third time and she leaned into him, but before she could deepen the kiss, he released her and stepped back.

  Her entire body zinged with energy. She stared up at him, bemused.

  He chuckled, which snapped her out of her daze. Had she lost her mind?

  “Don’t ever do that again.”

  He smiled, an incredibly sexy smile that made her nerve endings sing with need. Before she could lash out at him again, he raised his arms up. A breeze passed around them, ruffling the feathers adorning his chest. His image wavered and bent. She heard bones cracking, reshaping. Wave after wave of feathers burst forth in a soft, rippled covering. Where a warrior once stood, now a large eagle spread its wings and gave a loud cry. The eagle flapped its wings and took to the skies.

  Ixa gasped. The gods will find a way to convince you. Her abuelo’s words echoed in her mind.

  Footsteps pounded the ground behind her. Ixa turned and raised her weapon.

  From around the corner of the building, she heard her partner’s voice. “Ixa, you okay?”

  “All clear, Boyle.” She lowered her weapon.

  Boyle turned the corner of the building, weapon in hand, his eyes scanning the area. Two patrol officers backed him up, their guns out and ready. “We heard gun shots. Could’ve sworn they came from the other side of the lot.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Anyway, what happened?”

  “There were two suspects here.”

  Boyle looked back and forth. The alley was clear. “We didn’t see anyone running away. Did they climb the fence? We might get some evidence if they did.”

  Ixa bit her lip. How could she explain any of this? “I really didn’t see which way they went.” Even to her ears it sounded lame, and she wasn’t surprised at Boyle’s odd expression.

  She focused on the spent casing on the ground instead. It only proved she’d shot at something, not that anyone had been here, but for her it was enough. What she’d seen had been real. “They were here,” she insisted quietly. “Two of them.”

  Boyle holstered his weapon and strode over to Ixa, his expression grim. He stooped down and picked up her cotton shirt. His finger poked through the hole in the material. She remembered that she only had her Kevlar vest on over a plain white cotton bra. One of the cops smirked. She glared at him until he coughed and switched his gaze to the ground.

  “You two search the area,” Boyle ordered the pair.

  She sighed in relief. Alone with her partner, she could let her guard down. “You believe me, don’t you?” He stared at the ragged hole in her police-issue vest.

  He nodded. Then he caught sight of her arm. Instinctively she covered the tattoo with her hand.

  “Did you get a good look at the perps?”

  “Yes.” She held back the dread that ran up her spine. “One was Galante. He wants revenge and I don’t think he’s going to give up until I’m dead.”

  “Galante had to be stoned. He must’ve gotten hooked on the merchandise. It’s the only explanation,” Ixa argued as she tossed her pencil onto her desk in disgust. As much as she wanted to pretend Galante was flying high on chemicals, her mind k
new what she’d seen and it was nothing man could make. “What the hell is Metztli?” Ixa looked at Boyle. “You ever hear this word?”

  “Probably some new shit on the market. Could be anything. Got so many drugs coming in over the border, who the hell knows?” He shrugged his rounded shoulders and gave her a sympathetic look. “You said you shot him. Word has gone out to all hospitals and clinics. If he goes for medical attention, we’re on him.” The lenses of Boyle’s glasses glinted from the overhead fluorescent lighting.

  Ixa doubted Galante would hit a hospital. With his connections, he’d find a way to be treated that didn’t require paperwork. Mierda! The man had looked like walking death and yet he’d attacked her with amazing speed and force. She touched her tattoo—it still felt feverish.

  She’d been jumpy ever since they’d left the crime scene. Her partner had asked lots of questions and she’d had very few answers. Then the questions suddenly stopped and no one else seemed to be following up. Too weird, though she wasn’t complaining.

  An officer came in and handed Boyle a fax. Ixa waited impatiently for her partner to read it.

  “Galante escaped three days ago. His cellmate babbled about a humpbacked man with a dead rabbit on his face and Galante disappearing in a puff of smoke. They’ve sedated the cellmate and moved him to the Psych ward.”

  Where she’d end up too if she wasn’t careful. No way could she say she’d seen an eagle that turned into a man or a criminal with green guck coming out of his mouth. She’d be in psych evaluation in a blink of an eye.

  “And the pendejos only got around to notifying us today?”

  “An oversight,” Boyle said as he perused the sheet.

  Damn, she hated that her partner could be so rational. She shoved back her chair on its rollers and stood, needing to release the restless energy inside. “Let’s just focus on the case. The first murder occurred twenty-four hours before the second. Does that mean we will have another victim in twenty-four hours?”