Out of the Shadows: Shadow Warriors, Book 1 (4 page)

His hands made quick work of opening her shirt. His gaze narrowed, focused on her shoulder. Her tattoo flared to life, producing a golden beam that wrapped them in a warm cocoon.

“So much power,” he murmured.

His fingers hovered over the symbol before coming down to lightly trace the image. As soon as he touched it, energy and light swirled around them in a rainbow of colors. Within Tomás’s arms, she could only stare in awe.

The energy pulsing on the outside mirrored the heat burning her up inside, rivaling the fire that had threatened her barn.

With a cry of dismay and despair, Carolina wrenched herself away. The energy and light show disappeared as if she’d pulled the plug. She scrambled away from Tomás and hurriedly fastened her buttons. This was all wrong. She had forgotten her duty. Had given no thought to the one being she was sworn to protect.

Tomás had said she had power. But his was far greater and more dangerous—for he had power over her soul.

“You have to leave,” she said with determination.

He paid her no heed. Under full moonlight, he easily discerned the hummingbird carefully inked in hues of red, orange and yellow upon Carolina’s shoulder. He’d felt the energy reverberating off her.

“The hummingbird tattoo is given to only a chosen few—those honored to serve
Huitzilopochtli
.” He reached out and his finger stroked the mark through the torn material.

She shivered. A deep male satisfaction settled over him knowing that his touch affected her.

“I have had this since I was born. It started as a birthmark, but when I hit puberty it began to change, taking on these hues and reshaping into a hummingbird. It certainly does not make me a warrior.”

“Why do you deny it? You are filled with power.”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “I am not going to have this discussion with you. Just go.”

“You are a warrior,” he insisted, frustrated with her refusal to acknowledge the truth.

Carolina shook her head. “I’m not a warrior for the Aztec sun god.”

He pulled himself up to his full height. Her spirit proved most stubborn. “Demons are not alive. They are evil spirits that take over bodies and destroy souls. Without warriors, humanity would not survive against them. You,” he said pointedly, “do not have a great deal of experience despite your skill. The demon that attacked us is more powerful than any other I have fought in over five hundred years. You cannot handle this alone. Besides, it is my duty to remain as long as there is a demon close by.” His beast raised its head and growled in agreement. The thought of the demon putting its foul hands on Carolina made his fingers curl.

“I don’t need your protection. I can take care of myself.”

“Not anymore.” He kept his tone implacable. There would be no discussion. Her spirit called to his. A claim had been made. She was his spirit mate and she had better get used to his presence.

She stared back at him defiantly, her expression fierce, like an ancient priestess. The memory of a priestess from his village of old rolled through his head. He wanted to howl in celebration at the unexpected gift, the ability to recall memories he’d long believed faded from his mind.

As
Huitzilopochtli
’s elite solider, he had watched the ranks of the shadow warriors decrease as his brethren fell in battle. Less than half remained, and with each passing day, more of his kind were destroyed, their souls consumed by each demon kill they made, their humanity lost for all time.

He’d been surviving day by day until he’d met this woman.

He crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet. “I’m not leaving you alone. There’s a demon out there targeting you. It’s going to have to get through me first.”

“You can’t stay.” Anger and fear flashed across her features.

Tomás studied Carolina, wishing he could get inside her head. Why did she want him gone so badly? What secrets did she hide?

“You knew the demon. You called him by name. And he…he recognized you. Who is he?” The thought of her and the demon together made his insides twist. His wolf responded to the rising aggression within him and pushed towards the surface. Tomás firmly pushed his beast back under control as he waited for her answer.

“Billy used to work on this ranch, that’s all.” Her eyes slid from his, making him think it was not all. “He must have made a bargain with a demon,” she continued, “because he was behind the trap set for my parents, the one that killed them.” This time she faced him squarely. “I can handle this. I don’t care what Billy has become or how strong he is. I will defeat him.”

Tomás contemplated the quiet confidence in her voice. He didn’t doubt that she thought she could deal with the situation, but he had several lifetimes of experience to draw upon. If a demon had struck a bargain with Billy to target Carolina and her land, there was a reason. He thought of the second part of the mission
Huitzilopochtli
had entrusted him with—to find out why the demons kept targeting this area.

He was a patient man. He had waited centuries, and now that he had found his spirit mate, he wasn’t going anywhere. He would get answers.

She stared at him, her eyes filled with pain, sadness and resignation. “I want you to go. Truly, I appreciate your assistance, but it is best you leave.”

Tomás shook his head. “That I cannot do.”

“Why not?”

“The demon will be back.”

“I need to check on the animals.” It was an excuse. She really needed to get away, to put some distance between them.

“Do not stray far from the corral. I will check the perimeter to see if the demon left a trail.”

Who did he think he was? She fumed over his arrogance and high-handedness as she stalked away. Deep down, though, she admitted one truth to herself—she would love to lean on him for strength. He had called her his spirit mate. She had never heard the term before, but it made her feel secure. Since the death of her parents, she had been taking care of the ranch and protecting it alone. What would it be like to share the burden of responsibility with another? She had once believed that the local boy her father had hired as a ranch hand would be that kind of partner. He had been so keen to learn her ways. Her selfish desires had blinded her to the black heart he held within his chest.

And once more, desires were manipulating her emotions. She steeled herself and gave herself a mental slap. No man, not even an immortal warrior of
Huitzilopochtli
was going to take her off her game
.
She had failed her parents and her ancestors, and there was no do over. She’d picked herself up after that dreadful day and glued the pieces of her heart and soul back together. She would never risk them again and she would never forget that she was all that stood between her goddess and the forces bent on destroying the deity completely.

She also didn’t know whether to believe him about the tattoo. Why would the Aztec sun god mark her?

She had thought the tattoo a gift from her goddess. It warned her when evil approached. She considered it a mark of protection. The first time it had saved her, she had gone to her goddess—the water goddess
Chalchiuhtlicue—
and thanked her. Chica, as she fondly called her goddess, had appeared troubled, but had never explained further.

Carolina needed answers. She stopped by the corral, checking the animals once more. They were skittish. They sensed the dark, malevolent forces that were gathering. She felt the energy as well. It prickled her senses and heightened her awareness.

She hurried to the well situated about a hundred yards from her back door. Carolina lowered the bucket carefully down the dark shaft, ignoring the trembling of her hand. She brought the bucket up, making sure not to spill a single drop. She sang a chant of protection. Dipping her fingers into the clear, cool water, she flung the drops in a circle, to the east, the south, the west and lastly to the north. She unhooked the bucket from the rope and placed it in the middle of the protected circle. She sank down to the earth and stared at the surface of the water.

“Chica, I have come with news.” She spoke softly, not wanting the wind to carry her words. The last thing she needed was Tomás overhearing.

The water rippled and settled to reveal the serene face of a woman with long, dark hair and eyes as old as time. “I felt the disturbance of evil, my daughter.”

“A
tzitzimime
attacked this evening. It was Billy. It seems it wasn’t enough to help murder my parents. Now he is back and has become another vile soldier in the ranks of the
tzitzimime.
”

“You defeated him?”

“No, he is quite strong, but we fought him off.”

“We?” The word came out sharp, causing the placid surface of the water to ripple.

“He calls himself Tomás. He is a shadow warrior.”

“A shadow warrior!” The water clouded, and with only the moonlight providing illumination, Carolina strained to see her goddess’s face. The water swirled in the bucket. “You must get rid of him. His loyalty naturally lies with my husband. He would be duty-bound to report my presence and I would no longer be safe.”

“I will send him away, I promise. He will not learn about you from me.”

“You and your family have always protected me, daughter. You have my gratitude.”

Her heart squeezed. It humbled her that Chica still believed in her abilities.

“It has always been our honor.” Carolina took a deep breath before plunging ahead. “Chica, Tomás says my tattoo is the mark of your husband. Why would I bear the hummingbird tattoo of the Aztec sun god? I thought you had gifted me with the mark…” She let her voice trail off.

“The mark is a sign that you are a guardian. It is bestowed on those fated to work on the side of justice, goodness and light.” Chica sighed. “I have always known this day would come.”

The water stirred and shaped into the lovely face of Chica again. Two sparkling droplets shimmered on her cheeks. “Many moons ago, I fled the city of the gods because there was a clash between good and evil. It happened about the same time as the fall of the Aztec Empire. With humans no longer revering us, we were thrown into chaos. The goddess
Itzpaplotl
,
leader of the
tzitzimime,
wanted to kill my husband—the sun god, the most powerful of all gods—and any who stood in her way. She continues to this day. Should she succeed, she would blanket the world in darkness so she could rule over the earth and spread her evil everywhere.”

Chica’s face became pensive and she lapsed into silence. When she didn’t offer further explanation, Carolina prompted her, “But why did you flee?”

When she was growing up, her parents had forbidden her from bothering the goddess. They often reminded her that it was not their place to question the actions of the gods. Their role as guardians was to protect and serve. And after her parents had been murdered, Carolina had her hands full keeping up with the ranch and defending against attacks. It seemed a good idea now to finally learn the truth, or as much of the truth with which Chica would willingly part.

Chica sighed, a sound that whispered over the breeze. “I was foolish. I heard of a golden chalice hidden deep in a cave near a subterranean river. Legend said that water drunk from the chalice would open doors to the past and the future. Can you imagine?”

“It would bring incredible power,” Carolina murmured.

“Yes, it would. I was determined to find it. You see, we had only been married a short time when it all began to fall apart. My brother
Tlaloc
, the rain god, urged me to escape to safety with him. I refused. I thought if I could learn of the future perhaps I could assist my new husband in some way. I searched until I discovered the cave and the chalice, exquisite in its artistry, so delicate in form. My hand actually trembled as I filled it with the clear, running water beneath the earth. And I drank.”

“Did it work? Did the doors of the past and future open to you?” Carolina held her breath as she waited.

Anguish crossed Chica’s features. “I saw my husband slain, his lifeless body pumping out blood. Above him, I saw myself standing with a dagger, his blood covering me as I smiled.” Her voice broke. “I cried out, threw the chalice and ran. I never looked back. I could not take the chance that I would be the instrument of my husband’s destruction. Eventually, I found your family. One of your ancestors bore my husband’s mark. I knew I could find protection and safety here. And so it has been until now. Scarce though it is, I listen to the murmurs of the water, which touches this land, and I hear things.”

“Hear what? I don’t understand. What does any of this have to do with my tattoo?”

“Throughout the ages, all of your family members have done their best to keep me safe, but none have borne the mark of the hummingbird other than that first ancestor and you. The tattoo is a beacon of light, a symbol that not only are you on the side of good, but that you have been chosen for a special role. Yet I fear evil forces are conspiring against us. The darkness is pressing in. I can feel the battle drawing nearer and should
Itzpaplotl
and her band of
tzitzimime
prevail, we are doomed. My husband and his shadow warriors are all that stand in defense of humanity. If my husband perishes, we are lost. I cannot take the chance that what I saw in the vision will come true. The shadow warrior must leave. He must never know that I am here on this land. You must do this for me, daughter.”

“I won’t let him take you and I will protect you from Billy. We will survive.”

The water rippled and cleared. Her water goddess no longer appeared visible. Carolina put a hand to her mouth to stifle the cry that wanted to escape. How long could she keep up the battle on her own? Day by day, the water dried up, weakening both her and her goddess.

She couldn’t let Chica be found. But how could she protect her?

She shook her head, refusing to give in to despair. Too much depended on Chica’s survival and on keeping her secret. Whatever it took, even at the cost of Carolina’s own life, she would not let the demon or Tomás rule the day.