“Best the medical examiner can guess, the death happened around six o’clock this morning. So that gives us less than twenty-four hours,” Boyle interjected.
“All right. What about the ritualistic aspect?” Ixa paced behind her chair. “Everything about the case so far points to an Aztec connection.”
“How so?” Boyle looked to her for clarification. “Why not Mayan? All the nut jobs are coming out of the woodwork, spouting the hype swirling around the Winter Solstice 2012 prophecy.”
“I won’t dismiss it, but Salvatore Galante was once a boss for the Barrio Aztecas. He is deep into his Mexican-Aztec roots. And something about these murders reminds me of stories from my childhood. The victims had their hearts torn out with a knife. Sacrifice was something the Aztec people did to appease a god, whether it was to bring rain or have good crops—not unlike the Mayans. It seems ludicrous in this day and age, but we can’t rule it out.” The modern woman in her, the rational detective, wanted to reject the conclusion. The vision flashed again of the man in the mask, the knife sinking into the woman’s flesh. She rubbed her temple, wanting to erase the scene. But instead her mind turned to the man with the mesmerizing eagle eyes.
“Ixa, you okay?”
She dropped her hand. The vision disappeared, and with it the image of her handsome rescuer. She turned and smiled at Boyle. “I’m fine. It’s just the case getting to me.”
He gave her a quizzical look. “Is the case hitting a little too close to home?”
“Yeah. It just feels like I have spent my whole life chasing this man. I thought when we put him away for life that he would rot behind bars. And now Galante’s back out on the street killing innocent people again. I feel like I failed my father.”
Boyle put his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you can’t let this bastard into your head. Your dad was one of our best cops. Galante got the drop on him. He’s pure evil. You were just a kid—you couldn’t have stopped him.” He turned Ixa and made her look at him. “We got him once and we’re going to do it again.”
Dread spread through her gut. “Sure.”
“You don’t sound so convinced.”
Ixa didn’t know what to say to Boyle. Two years ago, when she had wrapped up an airtight case and sent Galante away on a one-way ticket to jail, he had been an ordinary murdering thug. Now he was a thug hopped up on ancient Aztec god juice.
In her experience, people, especially cops, had a hard time accepting the supernatural. Even she had a hard time accepting her own freakish abilities. Ixa had learned to stick to the book, play by the rules and do her job. At least here in the real world she had some control.
Control that had become very shaky since the events of the morning.
She picked up a file folder containing interviews the patrol officers had collected from the area. It was pretty thin. With no witnesses and few leads, the case was going nowhere fast. How was Galante linked to these ritualistic killings and why? “Has NCIC yielded any hits?”
“It’s run by the feds. Who knows when the database will kick anything back to us? Look, if we’re lucky, we’ll hear back soon. Right now, let’s focus on putting Galante behind bars.” His desk phone rang and he picked it up.
Ixa watched her partner’s face. His brow creased into furrowed lines. His mouth pressed into a tight-lipped grimace. He hung up and cleared his throat. “Ixa, grab your stuff and hop to it.”
“What’s going on? Do they have a lead?”
“Uh, no.” He shook his head. “That was Sergeant Cisco. He said the lieutenant wants to see us.”
Her stomach churned. “What for?”
“FBI walked in the building.” Boyle glanced at his watch and hurriedly stood. “Need to be in on the meeting in five minutes.” He grabbed a legal pad and a pen off his desk, frowning as he did so. Apparently, he wasn’t any more keen about getting up close and personal with the feds than she was.
Her tattoo tingled. She didn’t like the sensation. Nothing good ever came of it. They headed down the corridor for the elevator that would take them upstairs to the conference room. Sergeant Cisco with his long legs and deep scowl strode up beside them. He gave them a gruff greeting. A few detectives glanced their way, but a scowl from the Sergeant sent them scurrying back to work.
The conference room was nothing more than a rectangular box with windows on two sides. A long brown table covered with scratches and marks dominated the space, surrounded by chairs of worn black vinyl. Ixa flopped down into one and drummed her fingers against the tabletop. Boyle took a seat beside her, while the Sergeant settled himself on the opposite side. Sweat on Cisco’s face told her that things were about to get a lot hotter.
A throat cleared. Ixa glanced to her left and shot out of her chair. “You!”
Ixa Reyes. Manuel rolled the name over his tongue, savoring the sound. She amused him, standing before him like a bird with all her feathers ruffled. He studied the emotion. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been amused. The eagle in him lived for the hunt. With each demon kill, his humanity had been pushed aside, his emotions slowly seeping away. He had held on for so long, fighting the beast within him. The push and pull of wills was a painful battle within his body. Seeing Ixa and feeling her energy flow over him made the fight and the long wait worth it. This woman made him feel his humanity once again and he rejoiced. After all these years, he had found her. His spirit mate. Manuel wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. Ever since he’d touched her and felt the connection, he had been consumed by thoughts of her.
“I don’t know who you are, but I want an explanation, mister,” she squawked, her eyes flashing sparks.
“Oh, good, you are all here.” Lieutenant Carson closed the door behind him. “Team, this is Special Agent Manuel Del Sol from the FBI field office. He’s going to be heading up this investigation.”
“Now, wait one minute, Lieutenant,” Ixa interrupted.
Carson held up a hand, halting the flow of her speech. “You know the drill. This case ties into other murders across the United States. I want you to cooperate fully with the FBI.”
Before he could say more, his cell phone rang. The lieutenant fumbled with his cell phone and finally managed to answer it. A crease marred his forehead. “The commissioner? All right, put him through.” Carson’s voice sounded resigned.
Manuel continued to stand, as did Ixa. She glowered at him and her entire body vibrated with tension. He resisted the urge to smile.
Until recently, the talk of spirit mates had been thought to be a myth put out to keep the shadow warriors going. They all understood they would eventually succumb to the spirit of their beast. Huitzilopochtli had spoken to them one day about a vision in which he saw each warrior matched with a spirit mate, a woman who would give him the strength to control his animal spirit. For a while all warriors had hope, but over time when no such mate was found, the hope faded away.
Then Tomás had found his spirit mate. News had traveled fast amongst the warriors. For the first time, Manuel considered what his woman might be like. He’d envisioned someone bold, a warrior who could stand on her own. Yet reality proved so much sweeter. Ixa was as strong as he could wish, and a fighter, a woman who could stand by his side.
Here in the same room with her, he could feel her energy swirling around him, beckoning him. Earlier, he’d kissed her on impulse. She’d tasted spicy and sweet, and he’d wanted to lose himself in her. His eagle had brought him to his senses. It was too dangerous to lose himself to passion when the enemy remained loose. Reluctantly, he’d broken off the kiss. But he vowed to himself he would taste her again soon. This close and unable to touch Ixa had his body wound tight, but he was a patient man. He could wait—business first, pleasure after.
His gaze slid along her delicate, firm jaw, and then over to that luscious mouth—the memory of its taste stirred his blood. His eyes lingered on her lips. She colored as if she could read his thoughts.
Manuel recognized that he had a difficult road ahe
ad. Ixa had to choose him willingly. So instead of her playing on his stomping grounds, he needed to play on hers. He had been the leader of his tribe, a man of persuasion and charm. Unlike most of the other shadow warriors who chose to stay rooted to the past, Manuel had moved with the times and learned to blend into each new civilization, mastering their technology and their political, legal and belief systems. It didn’t take much for him to get people to do his will without offense. He used his power of suggestion over the weak-willed humans. For his current mission, he’d had a profile created for himself in the system to get him assigned to this case. The rest of the details his god, Huitzilopochtli, had taken care of. Sometimes working for an all-powerful Aztec god had its perks.
Ixa, on the other hand, was very strong-willed. His charm wasn’t going to be enough to cut it with her. He would have to use every trick at his disposal to woo her and capture her heart because, if he failed, his battle with his eagle would be over and he would be left flying the skies eternally alone.
Chapter Three
Carson finished speaking to the commissioner and asked them all to be seated. Ixa took her seat unwillingly, every cell in her body quivering. Her tattoo warmed and pulsated. A million questions raced through her mind but she bit her tongue.
Well-dressed in a suit so crisp and fitted, Special Agent Del Sol—if that truly was his name—moved with a combination of grace and authority, instantly commanding the room. No man should look that good in clothes. She looked down at her own serviceable white, long-sleeved cotton T-shirt over black pants that she’d changed into when she returned to the station. Utilitarian. Functional. She nearly winced, wondering if that’s how people saw her.
She tried to concentrate on the papers in front of her, but once again her eyes were drawn to the man who made all the other men in the room seem small by comparison. What was it about him? His voice mesmerized, while his gaze seemed almost hypnotic. His physique made her pulse rate speed up, and she’d always considered herself immune to men. She recalled standing in his embrace, the feel of his muscular build against hers.
God, what was wrong with her?
She put the paper down and focused on what he had to say. Maybe he’d explain why the hell he’d been at the warehouse this morning.
As if reading her mind, he spoke. “I have been investigating several serial killings. My investigation led me to San Diego where I came into contact with Detective Reyes.”
Ixa couldn’t help staring at him and imagining him in nothing but feathers and a loincloth. Her concentration was totally off. She needed to get a grip. No other man in the room—in the station, for that matter—had ever affected her this way.
“Lieutenant Carson, if you could please turn off the lights,” Manuel said as he pulled out a memory stick and plugged it into the computer. The Smart Board lit up with pictures of female bodies with hearts ripped out. The images snapped her out of her lust-filled thoughts and brought her to attention. She wanted to close her eyes, but it would do no good. She had seen them before in her visions, their faces and their bodies imprinted firmly in her psyche.
“His MO is always the same. Latina females in their twenties with a hummingbird tattoo somewhere on their bodies. He goes in under the cover of darkness and the women are usually loners or isolated, without family support, so when they go missing, there isn’t anyone to report them. We have no real motive, but we believe the killings are ritualistic in nature. There are never any eyewitnesses and few clues are left at the crime scene. Until now.”
He looked directly at her. For a second, she saw his irises flash gold.
“And that leads me to you, Detective Reyes.”
All eyes landed on her. Memories of being a child with accusing fingers pointed at her, being called a freak, made her squirm in her seat. She cast aside the old memories and steeled herself against what was to come.
“You identified a perp outside the warehouse. He recognized you.”
Ixa replied, “Yes, Salvatore Galante. He’s a criminal with a record of running drugs and murder. I put him behind bars two years ago. According to a fax we just received, he escaped three days ago. He might be behind the two murders we had here, but you can’t tie him to anything else.”
Del Sol smiled. “The attack in Arizona was carried out by another man who was captured. Here in San Diego, the deaths of the two women would appear to be the work of Galante.”
“Does this have anything to do with the fact that he belongs to a gang that plays up their Aztec roots?” Boyle interrupted.
“It’s a possibility. I need you, Detective Boyle, to track Galante down and help me put him out of action before he kills again.”
“Us. You need us,” Ixa interjected.
Manuel pivoted and stared directly at her, his gaze pinning her to the chair. “You told your partner,” he nodded in Boyle’s direction, “that Galante threatened you. Is that correct?”
Boyle held up his hand. “Now wait a minute. What does that have to do with Ixa?”
Manuel stalked around the chairs and flipped on the light. He zeroed in on her and moved next to her. He quickly took her arm before she could protest and shoved her sleeve up. Her tattoo was exposed for everyone to see.
“Son of a bitch,” the lieutenant groaned and reached for an antacid, popping a pill in his mouth, while her sergeant swore heavily under his breath.
“Goddamn it, Ixa,” Boyle accused. “You should’ve said something.”
Her stomach tightened. Instinctively she covered her tattoo with her other hand. Her skin heated beneath her touch. Embarrassed and afraid it would start to glow, she yanked down her sleeve.
Special Agent Del Sol released her arm. “I have reason to believe you are his next intended victim.”
Ixa stood up abruptly, shoving back her chair. “This is bullshit!” She looked to her colleagues. “You can’t possibly believe this shit! Even if it’s true, I’m a cop. I can take care of myself.” She whipped her head around to face Special Agent Del Sol. A slight gust of air riffled the papers, causing grunts of surprise. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. She closed her eyes and counted to ten in her head. She had to get under control. She couldn’t afford to lose it. Telling a white lie and explaining her tattoo as some silly thing she did after a drunken night in college would be easy. But having to explain how a tornado popped up in the middle of a conference room would be impossible.
“I don’t know what you have in mind, but you can count me out,” she gritted out finally.
Her eyes glittered with anger. A tiny burst of air flowed by him and Manuel frowned.
Sergeant Cisco scrubbed a hand over his hound dog face. “Sit down, Reyes! You know as well as I do that this complicates matters. Bullshit or not, you’re too close to the investigation and your involvement could seriously fuck up any evidence we gather. Until we get Galante’s ass behind bars, you’re off this case.” He raised a hand, forestalling any words from her. “Don’t piss me off. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, and until I do, you are not doing anything that might make you another victim.” He jabbed his finger at the screen, the mutilated bodies of the women on the white board barely visible in the lit room.
Manuel smiled at the Sergeant, sensing the men in the room were on his side. He continued with his presentation, doling out enough information to satisfy their natural police instincts—all except Ixa’s. It would take more than words to satisfy her. As he wound up his presentation, he sent a little push in their direction, influencing them to see matters his way. “I assure you that the FBI takes this very seriously. We will provide for Detective Reyes’s security until Galante is apprehended.”
“Hey, I am still in the room.”
The lieutenant addressed her. “I’m on my way to a press conference and I’ve got fuck-all to tell them. The media has been going to town with this, calling these murders sacrifices to the gods. It’s all tied up in this Mayan prophecy bullshit.” He rubbed his stomach, his lips pinching.
“I don’t give a fuck,” the lieutenant snapped. “The commissioner is already on my ass because the mayor is on his. It’s a fucking circus and I’m going to have another goddamn ulcer before it’s over. So do me a favor, Reyes. You sit down with Boyle and Del Sol and tell them everything that went down this morning. You coughed, they better know about it.”
“But, Lieutenant—”
“No buts. When you’re done, you go with Del Sol until we find this bastard. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” Her lips pursed, but her eyes smoldered. What would they look like if they smoldered with passion…passion for him? The eagle spirit inside him flapped its wings, scoffing at the notion. He shut down the connection.
“I believe, Lieutenant Carson, that I can handle the interrogation by myself. Detective Boyle would be put to better use tracking down Galante,” Manuel interjected smoothly, at the same time pushing his will on the men.
“Right. You get the details from Reyes. Boyle, you get started on tracking down that scum, Galante. Cisco, I expect reports.
“Yes, sir,” came the simultaneous responses.
“Can I have a moment to talk to Special Agent Del Sol in private?” Ixa said stiffly.
The lieutenant nodded. “Hell, yes. We’re done. Keep me informed.” He turned on his heel and walked out. Boyle and Cisco followed him, conferring on the next steps.
Ixa motioned for Manuel to sit. He stood his ground. His eagle spirit remained alert. His eyes studied the rigid set to Ixa’s shoulders and the hands fisted at her sides.
A draft of air swirled around the room, fluttering papers and causing the plastic plant in the corner to sway. He put his hand down on a file folder to stop the documents inside from blowing away. Aware this wasn’t the first time he had felt the air stir, Manuel glanced around, noting that all windows remained shut, before focusing back on Ixa.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Shadow Visions: Shadow Warriors, Book 2 Page 3
