Shadow Visions: Shadow Warriors, Book 2 (5 page)

“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.

A tidal wave of feelings churned inside Ixa, threatening to spill over. She didn’t like having her case yanked out from under her. Events were spinning out of her control and that put her on edge. She had to keep a tight rein on her emotions. The one time she hadn’t, disaster had struck. Already she felt the air shifting around her. Being a cop centered her and as long as she stuck to the rules, she’d be fine.

Special Agent Manuel Del Sol moved over to the window where he propped a shoulder against the frame. Sunlight streamed in through the blinds, the golden rays illuminating him from behind and casting his face in shadows. Momentarily, she was awestruck. He looked like a god, watching her, judging her, assessing her. His eyes caught a stray strand of light and glinted golden.

She swallowed hard. The wind kicked up more. She needed to get herself under control. He was just a man, right?

“Listen up, pendejo. I don’t know what’s going on, but let’s get something straight. I don’t work in shadows. You want my cooperation, you level with me.”

He inclined his head. “That is my intention.”

“Fine, then,” she snapped, pulling out a chair and dropping into it. She needed to put some distance between them—this close to him and her whole body vibrated with energy. “How about you sit down and explain to me what that cross between a horror show and magic act this morning was all about? I want the truth. Not that dog and pony show you distracted the others with.” She offered up her best glare, unwilling to let him see that he rattled her. She noticed him as a man. She reacted to him as a woman. She didn’t like it.

She’d worked years as a cop, surrounded by testosterone, and had been totally immune. Why this man? Why now?

“Who are you?” The words slipped out before she could censor them.

“Don’t you know? Can’t you feel it?” He moved away from the window to stand across the table from her. “I am much more than your Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

The feeling of dread returned to her gut. A vision flashed, but she shook it off, afraid of what she might see. The tattoo on her arm warmed.

He moved in closer. His eagle eyes settled on her with piercing intensity. “I am a shadow warrior, soldier for Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec sun god, sent to this plane to destroy those demons intent on preying on humanity.”

His gaze never wavered from hers. She felt her stomach clench. Every story her abuelo had told her flowed through her mind. Images of gods, demons, shadow warriors, blood and sacrifice swirled in her head and made it spin. She stood up abruptly. “I need to get some fresh air.” She walked toward the door.

“He will kill again. You saw the photos. You’ve seen the bodies. Other women with the mark of the hummingbird have died and you’re next.”

Her chest felt tight, like air was trapped inside and couldn’t break free. She was afraid to exhale, afraid to breathe. She’d seen much more. She’d seen those women die, the knife plunging into them over and over, and their still-beating hearts in the hands of a madman.

She whirled around to face him, her left hand instinctively going up to touch the mark on her bicep covered by her white shirt. He was right behind her. How did he sneak up on her without her hearing him? The man was like the wind.

“You can’t be certain I am his next victim.” She tried to take a step back, but she was trapped between his rock-solid body and the door. A strong, square hand with nicks and tiny scars came up and covered hers. Underneath her fingers, the tattoo thrummed. Her body warmed and her blood pounded in her ears. This man had a strange effect on her. Common sense told her to get away, but every cell in her body wanted to get closer to him. It was wrong, and yet somehow being this near to Manuel felt so right.

She needed space. She needed air.

An unnatural wind kicked up and billowed around them.

“Please step away from me,” she whispered, afraid if she spoke louder she would summon a tornado.

“I can’t do that. I was sent here to protect you.”

Damn him. If he didn’t let her go, everyone in the entire building was going to need protection.

She forced her gaze up to his face. In a dark business suit, he appeared like any other fed she’d come into contact with—except for the talk about shadow warriors and the intense thread of power she sensed emanating from him, drawing her in, pulling at her, demanding her to touch him back. She needed something to ground her, anything but this man who made all her rational thoughts disappear into vapor.

His thumb stroked across her shirt. Her tattoo tingled and pulsed, sending a shot of pleasure straight down to her toes. She bit her lip. She had to stay focused. “Please, you don’t understand.”

“What you don’t understand is that you bear a
huitzil
tattoo. A hummingbird, the mark of Huitzilopochtli. I saw it. The demon saw it. You are his next victim. He’s already chosen you.”

Ixa shook her head. “Salvatore Galante is a demon all right—a big-time drug lord who plagued an entire community. He escaped three days ago from jail and I intend to make sure his ass goes back.” Yes, she had to focus on the facts. Stay grounded in reality. Play it by the book and follow the rules. She repeated the mantra in her head. It was the best way to ensure no one got hurt, especially her. She couldn’t bear the thought of more people dying because of her inability to control her power.

“You’re no longer on this case.”

His hand slid down her arm, blazing a trail of fire that heated her straight to the core, blowing away her reason. His fingers tangled with hers. Around the room, the wind grew into a gust, blowing her hair around her face.

“I have to be. This is personal. That man took everything from me. He is going to pay for his crimes.”

“He will pay, but you can’t do this alone. Galante is a demon with a powerful god behind him who wants you dead.”

Demons. Aztec gods. Shadow warriors. She’d deliberately walked away from that world. Her abuelo lived and breathed Aztec folklore, but her heritage had brought her nothing but death and destruction. Abuelo had built his life around the gods and no matter how hard he tried to convince her that her abilities were a gift, she found no merit in them. Her visions couldn’t save anyone, least of all her family. And for all her power over wind, all it had ever been good for was blowing her parents’ and sister’s ashes over the land.

“Please let me go. I don’t want to hurt you.” She pulled her hand free from his. The wind pushed them apart. Her emotions swirled around inside her. No longer could she contain them. The pressure built in the room until it blew the door off the hinges and flung it into the hallway.

She heard shouts and footsteps running down the hall.

“I’ve got to get out of here.” Ixa didn’t want to explain what had happened. She couldn’t. She spared one last glance back at Manuel and took off.

Such awesome power packed into a petite, beautiful body. He had seen her fear stamped all over her features when she called up the wind. She had great power but little control. He scowled. He wondered why she had not been trained. He could train her, if only she would let him, but it seemed Ixa was not a woman easily told what to do. Manuel tamped down his own annoyance. She needed time. But time was one commodity they had precious little of.

His eagle rose up, insisting they leave this colorless box and take to the skies to find the demon. His keen sense of hearing told him the humans would be upon them in seconds. He pushed back, counseling caution and patience.

“What happened?” Men and women in uniform and rumpled suits crowded the entryway. Some of them stared in disbelief at the broken door on the floor while others eyed him skeptically.

Manuel put on a smile, shrugged his shoulders and said nonchalantly, “I guess that’s what happens when you piss off a woman with a badge.”

He let the power of suggestion roll over them, waiting for that moment when the skepticism in their eyes changed to acceptance.

The men around him laughed and the women smiled as they nodded their heads.

He casually walked past them. The eagle spirit inside him urged him to move faster, crying in his head for freedom. It wanted nothing to do with the humans or the cihuatl. His spirit was still hungry, and it wanted to rip into the demon and kill it.

On that subject, Manuel could agree. The demon needed to die.

Inside he could feel the beast pushing outward, ready to take flight. Manuel pushed the eagle spirit down. He was not finished with his spirit mate. However, first he needed to find her.

He moved quickly through the building, his eyes taking in every detail and every movement. She wasn’t here.

Anger roiled in his gut. He would accept a certain amount of willfulness. His spirit mate was used to being independent. He could not change that overnight, nor did he want to. He respected her intelligence and strength.

But this attitude of answering to no one would have to go. He knew so firsthand. His failure to heed the words of his priests because of his own pride and arrogance had cost him everything—his kingdom, his people and, most importantly, his family. Hundreds of years later and a lifetime in service to make up for a fatal mistake would not matter if he failed to convince Ixa to stand by his side. She was his one chance not only to regain his humanity but also to have what he desired most again…a family.

Demands, though, would get him nowhere. As he took the emergency stairs up to the roof, he considered how to curtail his woman without breaking her spirit. She didn’t see him as her mate yet, someone she needed to have in her life, someone worthy of her respect.

He had his work cut out for him. His blood hummed at the challenge and he took the stairs two at a time, determined to find Ixa that much faster.

How he savored her name in his mind. Finally, the one woman, the one cihuatl, meant for him. His spirit mate. His savior.

He had to make her believe. Failure was not an option. Failure meant death.

At the top of the stairs, he raised his hands, palms outward, and released a wave of energy. It would disrupt the connection to the door’s alarm long enough for him to open it and step outside.

Once on the roof, he strode immediately to the edge, letting his eagle rise up to provide him with sharp sight. It didn’t take him long to spy her hurrying through the parking lot. In human form, he’d never reach her in time. He called up his eagle and embraced the change.

Spreading his wings, he launched skyward and then like a missile dove towards his target.

He swooped down, landing effortlessly in front of her. He used his large wings to generate a small windstorm and within its protection rapidly shifted, away from any possible witnesses. He heard her gasp as he clothed himself. Her eyes glittered with emotion and he noted the way her hand had crept up to the butt of her gun. Before she could react, he closed the distance between them. He reached out to hold her, believing a physical connection would ground her and keep her from fleeing.

The moment his hand wrapped around her forearm, power surged between them. A breeze whipped up, carrying the scent of fresh mountain air and spring flowers, chasing away the harsher odors of fuel and exhaust from the nearby streets.

His hand tightened, unwilling to shatter the connection. From deep in his soul a memory broke free, floating upward, filling his mind. His family. His parents. His brothers and sisters. One by one they had been killed because of him. A mighty leader descended from nobles, he’d been arrogant, believing himself undefeatable. Despite his skill, he had been unable to save them. He had failed them.

Their tranquil faces blew away in the breeze. He could not hold on to the memories, but he could hold on to Ixa. Heat radiated from her body. Under his fingertips, he felt her power, wild and untamed. He knew she carried the mark of Huitzilopochtli. Manuel wondered what else she carried that made a demon want her so badly.

One thing was for certain—she was his spirit mate. The tumble of emotions she stirred up in him after centuries of feeling nothing told him she could be none other.