The unexpected action broke the spell. Tomás tore his lips away and stepped back from Carolina.
His wolf sought domination. Tomás struggled to keep his beast down.
For a moment the two battled. Tomás clung to the images of his humanity, allowing them to replay in his mind, to provide him with the grounding he needed. His wolf distrusted the changes it sensed happening. It wanted to chase the demon. It wanted to be in control. Tomás threw the power of his will against his beast and demanded obedience.
“What just happened?” Carolina’s voice held concern and a slight hint of fear. His wolf backed down but remained vigilant. Tomás tasted his humanity on his lips—a bittersweet recollection of hardship, battles and occasional glory. His eyes rested on the woman whose kiss had released a storm of memories buried under five hundred years of demon kills.
He had held on all these centuries for her.
Chapter Four
“Who are you?” He sounded abrupt, his gaze fierce upon her.
She held her ground. She wouldn’t let him see how shaken she was. Briefly, before he’d broken the link, she’d felt it—a spiritual bond of some sort. She would have liked to explore it more if she also hadn’t feared where it might lead. She had let Billy get too close, allowed herself to trust him, to believe there could be a future for the two of them, and all along he’d been using her. She’d forgotten her most sacred duty and her entire family had paid the ultimate price. Never again would she let another man into her heart. Never again would she forget that, first and foremost, she was a guardian.
Except Tomás wasn’t like any other man she had ever met. He was a shadow warrior and she needed to exercise double caution where he was concerned.
“I told you. I’m a woman, running this ranch on my own.” She raised her hand and gestured to the acreage surrounding them. “And I need to get back to defending my land.”
“That still does not explain the power you wield.”
“I do not owe you any answers or explanations. Your task is done here. Thank you for your assistance, but it’s time for you to leave.” She turned, intending to walk away, but his hands snaked out, hauling her once more against him, heedless of his wounds.
“Be careful,” she admonished. “You will hurt yourself.” She pointed to the gash across his midsection, guiltily realizing she hadn’t given it a thought when she’d been wrapped up in their kiss. “You need to go clean that up or it will become infected.”
Tomás shrugged. “I have been wounded many times. It will heal. And I do not get infections. That is a human malady. Enough of this nonsense.”
He pressed his nose against the side of her neck and inhaled her scent. Her body grew warmer and heat rose in her cheeks. His chin pressed against her shoulder and the stubble on his jaw scraped along her neck. He nuzzled his face into her hair, nudging her braid aside.
“Tell me, Carolina. What have you done to me?” His breath blew across her exposed skin where the demon had torn her shirt.
His teeth nipped her shoulder. Her tattoo tingled whenever his mouth brushed over the spot. A moan escaped her. Under his touch her tattoo came alive, as if it would fly right off her skin.
She was drowning and not even fighting it. Why were her defenses so easily lowered around this man? She gently put her hands on his shoulders, intending to push him away. She had to stop the madness, but the feel of his bare skin under her hands made rational thought impossible.
She’d never melted over a man, not even Billy. It had taken her months to get up the courage to even talk to Billy. Yet around Tomás she found herself unable to resist the urge to touch him.
One hand held her wrist firm in its grip while the other crept up along her rib cage and over her breast. His hand splayed over her breast, his thumb rubbing lightly over her nipple. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Heat raced along nerve endings, liquid fire that simply needed a tiny spark to set her aflame. His hand left her waist to cup the back of her neck, tilting her head so that she stared directly into eyes that appeared to flash amber, then golden, into a gaze that pulled her into a swirling vortex.
Her spirit, the very essence of her being, rose up, seeking, searching.
At the same time, her tattoo beat against her skin, straining to take flight.
A cry escaped her lips. “What’s happening to me?”
Tomás tightened his grip. “Your spirit calls to mine, Carolina.”
“Tomás,” she groaned, “this is wrong. We have no future. You are a shadow warrior and anything between us would be too complicated.”
“Our spirits recognize one another. You are my spirit mate.” He stifled further protest by bringing his lips down on hers. It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was meant to brand, to mark her in some way as belonging to him. She should push him away, but her hands had minds of their own, smoothing over his muscles, glorying in their feel.
Tomás kissed her jawline as his hands stroked down her shoulders, her arms and her waist. Her tattoo hummed and throbbed. Everywhere he touched, heat licked its way up along her skin.
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.
“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.”
Out of the Shadows: Shadow Warriors, Book 1 Page 3