Shadow Visions: Shadow Warriors, Book 2 (13 page)

Her heart was breaking. She had lost everything. The world was in chaos because of her. She had rejected all that he had tried to teach her, and for what? To fit into a world that she had promised to serve and protect, yet here she was with the biggest opportunity to save all of mankind and she didn’t have a clue what to do. For the first time, she truly felt alone.

A warrior’s cry ripped through the air.

She raised her head. Manuel smashed his hand into the moon god’s cheek, a strike that caused bone fragments to fly from the skeletal face. Metztli raised his arm and swung the wind stick. Manuel was blown out of the sky. Her heart pounded as she watched him fall to the charred floor.

“Manuel!”

She hated to leave her abuelo, but there was little she could do for him.

She rushed to the warrior’s side. “Are you all right?”

Manuel pushed himself up. His golden eagle eyes were filled with pain and she wanted to touch him, run her hands over him to make sure nothing was broken. It was in that instant she realized she wasn’t alone. She could never be alone because she had Manuel.

All her life she had heard tales of the mighty warriors and maybe somewhere long ago had unwittingly fallen in love with the soldiers of Huitzilopochtli. Manuel had not only taught her how to control her power, but he had believed in her. And she had let him down. If they got out of this alive, she promised herself she would make it up to him and make him see she truly was his spirit mate.

She touched his arm. Energy flowed from his bare skin into her fingertips. Her hummingbird tattoo flared bright, chasing away the shadows in the room. The storm inside her gathered into a mass of huge proportions, making her feel stronger and braver.

“I’m ready,” she told him with conviction in her voice. “I can do this.
We
can do this.”

He nodded his head, stood up and took her hand. A lightning bolt shot from the sky and exploded by their feet, but together they held their ground.

In the swirling clouds gathering overhead, Metztli grew larger, his power spreading out over the house, blocking out the sunlight. The massive darkness stretched and stretched and Ixa realized that left unchecked, Metztli would bring the whole world to darkness. The moon god held up her abuelo’s walking stick, his bony fingers extracting the wind god from inside. All these years and she’d never suspected. Her abuelo had never hinted at such a thing. Before their eyes, the essence of Ehecatl shimmered and wavered in the storm. The wind god squirmed away from the bloody touch of Metztli, desperately clinging to his hold on the vessel.

Manuel turned her to face him, his strong hands on both her shoulders. “Are you sure you wish to fight by my side? We may not survive.”

“Yes.” Determination flooded her system. Her hands charged with power. “You were right. I swore to protect and serve. I don’t need a badge and gun. I have what it takes to help you bring down this son of a bitch.” She put out her fist. Wind encircled her arm in a rapid circular motion. She looked dead straight into his golden eyes. “Let’s do it.”

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, all 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.