Shadow Visions: Shadow Warriors, Book 2

by Gabriella Hewitt

  Manuel wrapped one of his large hands around Ixa’s nape and pulled her to him for a brief, hard kiss. He needed the taste of her on his lips. They were going into a battle with the odds stacked high against them. She had given him a precious gift. In finding his spirit mate, he’d discovered his emotions and the ability to love once again.

  “Whatever happens, you do as I tell you.” He would protect her with his last breath.

  She thumped his chest and he gritted his teeth in pain. Her eyes narrowed. “You’re hurt.”

  His side throbbed and it was difficult for him to breathe. He didn’t need a healer to tell him his ribs were broken. “It’s nothing.” He glanced up, aware that they had little time to make their move. Metztli extracted the wind god from the stick, using the obsidian blade to create a large crack, and immediately inhaled him in one long breath.

  “It’s now or never.” She stepped forward and once again raised her hand, drawing air to her, creating a strong current that flowed around her.

  A part of him wanted her safe and away from this place, but she was a warrior and he could see the determination in her eyes. Her power surrounded them. She was ready.

  “You go in low and I’ll go in high. Blast him with everything you’ve got.”

  Manuel didn’t wait to see if she followed his instructions. It was Ixa. She would do what needed to be done, no matter the cost.

  Manuel shifted into the eagle. He could feel his beast’s hunger, its desire for the thrill of the kill. Manuel pulled back on his eagle spirit. He needed to stay in control. The eagle resisted, smelling the blood in the air. On the ground, the eagle spied prey—Ixa’s abuelo and Galante lay bleeding and immobile. Fear and hunger mixed together and Manuel cursed himself for going too long without food and renewing his energy in the netherworld. Finally, his spirit mate was willing to fight by his side, but the eagle spirit did not care.

  Using the full force of his will, Manuel bore down on his eagle spirit to make it obey his commands. Too much was at stake to allow his beast to win at this stage of their constant tug of war.

  Under him he felt the air rise. Ixa held out her hands and drove a thermal wind beneath his wings, taking him higher into the sky. He soared up into the storm clouds manifesting around Metztli. Lightning broke around him. He dodged the bolts. Below him, Ixa created a swirling tornado that sucked at Metztli. The moon god snatched up her tornado and crushed it in his enormous hand. He opened his bony fingers and sent out an army of minitornadoes over the land. The twisters churned up cars parked along the street and uprooted trees. He turned, piercing her with his dark, beady eyes and pointed the stick at her. A cold blast of arctic wind poured off the staff. Ixa returned fire with a blast of hot air. The two streams met in the middle, building a storm front that threatened to blow the whole city away.

  Pieces of the house and debris flew up into the air, nearly knocking Manuel out of the sky. His eagle plowed into the headwind, relying on its powerful wings to advance. While the moon god was momentarily distracted fighting Ixa, his eagle stretched out its talons and went after the wind stick. Swift and silent, the bird snatched the stick out of Metztli’s grip. The god tried to grab it back but Manuel shot straight though the gaps of the god’s fleshless hand and dove straight down toward Ixa. Manuel dropped the wind stick at her feet. Quickly, she picked it up. Ixa pulled the obsidian blade out of the wood. Light and air shimmered out of the gap. Remaining magic poured from the hole and swirled around her whole body. Her eyes focused on something off in the distance, as if she were listening to the wind itself.

  He landed inches away from her and transformed into a man.

  “Manuel.” Ixa handed him the obsidian blade. “Take this and bury it into the heart of Metztli.”

  Metztli loomed large, his skeletal limbs extended out over the entire neighborhood. Manuel had only one shot. If he got it wrong, there would be no stopping the malicious moon god.

  Manuel placed the knife in his atlatl. The blade fit into the cradle of his throwing shaft. He pulled back his arm and flung the knife with all his might. It flew through the air swift and sure. The blade sunk deep into the bony chest of Metztli.

  A scream of wind howled through the region, lightning burst from the heavens and rubble rained down around them.

  “Use the wind stick,” Manuel shouted above the roar of the wind. Ixa aimed the cane at Metztli. He covered her hand with his. Power coursed through his arm and he could feel Ixa’s energy rush over him. Like an arrow, a wind stream shot straight for the moon god. Strong as they were, they needed more help to defeat their enemy. “Ehecatl, you must fight back.” He put every ounce of command in his voice, willing the wind god to listen.

  Ixa added her voice. “Ehecatl, bisabuelo, we need you on our side. Please, great-grandfather.”

  Sunlight tore through the storm clouds blanketing the sky, poking holes in the dark cover. Air shimmered and sparkled from within Metztli’s skeletal breast. He roared in anger. The wind god burst forth in a spray of bones and gore, punching a hole through the moon god’s chest. Metztli began to shrink in size, his power leaching out of him in a torrent of black ooze.

  Ehecatl’s rage flowed in a stream of hot and cold air, shredding Metztli and flinging pieces of the god over the land. Ixa ran to her fallen grandparent and bent over him, offering herself as protection. Manuel came up behind her, and as he had done in the desert, he expanded his wings and used them to form a cocoon of protection. Thunder and lightning rumbled and crashed over the city. The wind god spun around until he dissolved into a controlled tornado that continued to attack Metztli until not a single fragment of the moon god remained. The clouds cleared and bright sunlight bathed the earth once more. Manuel stepped back and retracted his wings. Ixa straightened, the glimmer of tears visible in her gaze.

  Ehecatl looked down upon them both, his face filled with kindness and humility.

  Manuel bowed before the god.

  “I must collect the bones of Metztli,” Ehecatl said, his voice a whisper in the wind. “He is too dangerous in the wrong hands.” In a rush of air, Ehecatl formed once more into a tornado high above the skies, funneling up the splintered remains of the moon god.

  The skies may have cleared and the wind god may have been safe, but they were far from out of danger. All around them the walls of the house groaned from the strain of the fight and threatened to fall in upon them.

  “We need to get out of here!” He pulled on Ixa, but she shrugged off his hold.

  “I’m not leaving Abuelo.” She went for her abuelo. He stopped her in her tracks.

  “I’ll get him.” He picked up the limp body of the old man and headed through the door with Ixa behind him.

  His legs longer and stronger than hers, he easily cleared the fallen debris. He reached the safety of the front yard and carefully laid down her abuelo. He looked over his shoulder to observe her exit.

  Ixa stood inches from the doorway, the wind stick in her hand, when Galante appeared in a puff of black smoke before her, blocking her escape. He touched the wooden frame of the house and flames burst up, encircling the structure.

  Trapped! Ixa turned around, searching for another way out.

  Emotions and memories of long ago bombarded her. Everywhere she turned she saw the bright orange glow of fire. It licked up the ruined walls, black smoke choking the air and covering the sky. She could hear the screech of the eagle above, but the inky black smoke reduced the chances of rescue.

  “Manuel, I’m here!” Her voice croaked. Heat and smoke invaded her lungs.

  Galante continued to block the doorway, his ever-present evil grin in place. From behind him, she glimpsed Manuel trying to reach the entrance, but some kind of barrier held him off. Frustration marred his features and then he disappeared from her sight.

  “Hey!” Galante shouted. He held up a red plastic gasoline container and shook it. Liquid sloshed inside. “Remember this?”

  She stared directly at him and let all her rage, al
l her fears, and the years of tears and anguish rise up from within her. She took those feelings and balled them metaphysically in her hand. No more would she allow Galante to control her world or hurt anyone else. It ended now. She flung the wind out at him with all her might.

  Galante braced his feet for the hit, turning his body to make less of a target. The wind tore the gasoline container out of his hands and flung it back against the crumbling wall. Gas splattered, setting off a mini-explosion as the fire fed on the fuel.

  He threw his head back and gave a sharp laugh. He turned the skeletal half of his face toward her. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your wind can’t hurt me.”

  His words sparked an idea. “You’re right, my wind may not do the trick, but maybe this will.” Ixa raised the wind stick up and pointed it at him. She channeled her power. Her tattoo burned and lit up with energy, and she could feel her elemental magic flowing through her arm, swift and furious.

  “Hasta la vista, pendejo!” Gale-force wind blew outward and smashed into Galante. She cut the wind off with a snap of her wrist, unwilling to let it feed the flames. Galante wavered, a gaping hole burrowed through his middle. Black ooze gushed out of the open wound.

  “Bitch!” He dropped to the ground and dragged what was left of his sorry carcass across the floor toward her. “I should have killed you that night with the rest of your fucking family.” His eyes glowed with a green fire. She looked into them. A mistake, Ixa realized too late.

  Images of her father bleeding pounded into her mind. Her ears rang with the wails of her mother. She put her hands over her ears but she could still hear the screams of her sister. “Get out of my head!”

  Ixa pivoted away and hugged the wind stick to her breast. Energy pulsated over her entire body and zapped straight into her heart. Her mother, her father and her sister rested there, within her, and their smiles and warmth energized her. Galante may have taken their lives, but he could never destroy her memory of them. She knew what she had to do.

  She turned around and faced down Galante. “You don’t scare me anymore.”

  “No, little girl? Are you sure?” His bony fingers reached out and grabbed a second can of gasoline. He glugged back the toxic liquid and spewed it straight at her.

  She jumped back out of reach of the deadly spray. The fire leaped onto the flammable liquid and made a line directly between her legs. He grabbed the canister again to take another swig. This was her chance. She focused her energy and siphoned it down the shaft of the wind stick. Ixa swung the wind stick high into the air and swirled it around, gathering the wind to her. As she’d hoped, Galante ignored the danger, too caught up in his quest to defeat her. He spewed another round of gasoline in her direction. She vacuumed up the chemical brew into her vortex. She reversed her power and flung the gasoline-filled air back at him, coating him in the toxic liquid. The droplets burst into flames, licking their way up his body. Galante whirled and smacked at his clothes. His hands on fire, he wailed and took off running, intent on escape. He screamed a high-pitched squeal that hurt her ears. Before her eyes, the flames consumed him in a fiery ball.

  Ixa couldn’t bear to watch. She blew her breath across the top of the wind stick. Air snuffed the blaze out, but it was too late for Galante. He fell to the ground in a heap of charred flesh and bones.

  Ixa didn’t have time to contemplate what she’d done.

  Shadows jumped along the walls. Flames licked greedily in every direction. Smoke threatened to choke her. Already her eyes were tearing and her chest felt tight with each breath.

  “Ixa!” She heard Manuel calling her name. She listened for him. His shouts were coming from the left. There, over in the corner, a section of wall had come free. He stood with his hand outstretched. “The shield is down. Hurry!” he shouted. She waved the wind stick and blew the flames away as she ran toward him.

  He grabbed on to her and pulled her through the cracked wall and straight into his arms.

  Chapter Ten

  Reluctantly, Ixa disengaged from Manuel’s embrace. Too much remained to be done. Smoke curled up from the blackened house behind them. The entire neighborhood looked like a war zone with cars turned over, trees uprooted and roofs blown off. In the distance, sirens wailed from every direction.

  Ixa spied her abuelo on the ground and cried out. “He needs a doctor.”

  Manuel caught her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “Ixa, there is nothing they can do.”

  “What about you? Can’t you do something?”

  “He was stabbed with an obsidian knife, one steeped in dark magic. It is impossible to counter such a deadly wound. I’m sorry, nohuitzil.”

  She shook her head. “No, I won’t believe that,” she choked out. “We have to at least try.” She pulled from his grasp and stumbled over to his supine form.

  Gently, she brushed at the dirt sticking to his cheek, aware of his too-pale face and the blood that soaked his chest. Tears pooled in her eyes. “Abuelo,” she whispered.

  His eyelids slowly blinked open. “Mi brisita.” His tongue touched his chapped lips. “You make me very proud. You are a fine guardian for our people. My wish has been fulfilled.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t talk like you’re leaving me. You can’t. I need you. Please, you must stay.”

  Her abuelo’s lids half closed and his breath grew shallower with each second. “I would have passed on sooner, but you were not ready. I asked the gods for more time with you. Now you are able to stand on your own. You have great power. Use it wisely, my child.” He coughed and blood bubbled at his lips.

  “Don’t go,” she repeated. “I need you.” Tears fell freely down her cheeks. Her heart hurt from the pain flooding her. She gathered his limp form to her, cradling him as he so often had cradled her as a little girl. She lifted her head up to the sky and screamed, “Save him for me. You can make him whole. I beg you to save him!”

  Air spun and swirled in front of her until it formed a shape and Ehecatl, the wind god, appeared. He was the spitting image of her abuelo as a young man. She felt her abuelo’s body shudder and slacken.

  She looked up at the god—her great-grandfather, if the legend was to be believed. “Please,” she whispered brokenly, “can’t you save him?”

  “My great-granddaughter, you are a worthy guardian with the spirit of a warrior. You have served your people proudly today.” His face softened and his eyes showed compassion. “Your grandfather, my son, led a full life. He followed the path before him with honor. It is time to let him go.”

  “But…but…” She hugged her abuelo closer as if that would prevent him from leaving.

  “He will never be far from you, Ixa. Look, child, look.”

  Ixa raised her head, but with her eyes swimming with tears, everything seemed blurry. She wiped her face with her arm and stared at the wind god. Standing beside him, she saw her abuelo, in a semi-transparent form, floating slightly above the ground. In her arms, his body lay still.

  “Abuelo, I don’t want you to go.”

  “I am always with you, mi brisita. Look in your heart. You will always find me there.”

  A tiny sparkle of light bobbed its way toward them. As it neared, it became a hummingbird. For a brief flash, Ixa saw her mother, her father and sister, all holding hands in a clear meadow. Her mother reached a hand out and her abuelo took it. He smiled at Ixa and the four of them were gone, the hummingbird winging away.

  Ixa bowed her head and let grief wash over her. Why did the gods keep taking the people she loved? Why was she always left alone?

  “Ixa, you are not alone,” the wind god reminded her with a nod in Manuel’s direction.

  At first she didn’t understand—her brain and body felt numb, bashed and bruised from all that had taken place, and then his meaning sank in. She had Manuel if she could hang on to him. Carefully, she lay her abuelo back down on the sparse grass and climbed to her feet. She half ran, half staggered over to where Manuel sat on the ground, hi
s body covered in dirt, grime, sweat and blood. She dropped to her knees before him and touched his face with her fingertips. He was real and alive.

  He took her hand and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. “I am sorry for your loss, Ixa. I would have done anything to spare you grief.”

  “I know that now. I should have trusted you from the beginning.” She bent her head and stared down at the ground. “I should have listened to Abuelo more and learned how to control my powers.”

  He pulled her into his embrace and she relaxed against him, feeling safe and comforted. “We all have a path to follow. For some it is straight and smooth. For others it holds many curves and bumps. In the end, you became the warrior you have always been destined to be.”

  “You mean the spirit mate I was destined to be,” she said with a soft smile.

  “About that, Ixa—” His words were cut off as a blinding light forced both of them to cover their eyes.

  When Ixa sensed the light had diminished to a comfortable level, she squinted to see who had joined them. A tall warrior with bronze skin strode toward them with confidence. Waves of power radiated from him. He carried a spear in one hand and a shield in another. He wore ancient Aztec dress and had feathers in his hair.

  Ixa sucked in a breath and gasped. “Is that Huitzilopochtli?”

  Manuel struggled to his feet. Ixa must have sensed he didn’t want her help, and for that he was grateful. He bowed low before his lord and master.

  “You have both done well.” The Aztec sun god’s voice boomed over the area. He turned in a circle, seemingly surveying the destruction, when his gaze lit upon the wind god standing by the body of Ixa’s abuelo.

  “Ehecatl, it has been too long.”

  “Huitzilopochtli, it has indeed. Many moons ago, I chose to follow the winds. It is a decision I do not regret, for I met my beloved Mayahuel and together we produced children who will stand up and fight for us. I wish you to meet my great-granddaughter Ixa.”