Out of the Shadows

Out of the Shadows
https://amzn.to/2PqtzIK
Gabriella Hewitt
Chapter One

The ache in his soul grew with each step.
His muscles bunched and released as his legs chewed up the distance. He barely felt the scorching desert sand beneath the pads of his paws. His canine nose held the scent of the enemy, unerringly tracking the demon through the sweltering heat and vast expanse of the Arizona desert.
Buried deep inside, Tomás let his wolf spirit take control. His animal spirit loved the chase, relished the moments when it was set free.
A demon had taken possession of a human’s body and had perpetrated ever-increasing horrors on unsuspecting mortals until his actions had caught the attention of Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec sun god. Tomás had been ordered to take down the demon and drag him back to the netherworld. After that, he would scout out this piece of land to determine why demons kept targeting it.
Basically, another mission that would play out like all the others—assuming he survived.
His wolf suddenly halted, head up, body alert. Tomás sought the link between man and beast to determine what had caught the animal’s attention.
A scent flowed in, light and crisp, like the air after a rain shower. It overrode the demon’s acrid, sulfuric smell.
Tomás forced his wolf spirit to pivot, employing all his senses to lock on to the elusive scent.
His heart stuttered. Could it possibly be? Was his spirit mate finally within reach?
Alarmed, his wolf spirit tried to call to him, to take control and order him to resume the chase. Tomás ignored the wolf, his entire focus bent on locating the source of that scent. It called to him in a way he couldn’t define, other than it touched a part of his soul he’d long thought dead. His head whipped left, right, his nostrils flaring, inhaling the odors of the desert. He could feel his wolf pulling at him, determined that they continue on to take down the demon. It was their primary mission.
At least it had been until that scent caught his attention. Hope flared within Tomás. A spirit mate would be his salvation.
His wolf growled, making its feelings clear. His human spirit struggled to override the animal spirit, a battle within one body between two powerful wills.
Was it happening? Had he finally lost the fight just when his spirit mate was so close? Would he spend the rest of eternity lost within the form of his wolf, his humanity subordinate to the will of the beast?
A harsh, painful cry erupted from within Tomás.
His wolf echoed the sound with a long howl.
His warrior’s heart beat strong, his determination resolute. Tomás gave one final tug, applying all his willpower, and then they were running flat-out, heading towards the vast unknown and an uncertain fate.
***
A wolf’s howl pierced the desert silence, causing the animals to stir restlessly in their stalls. Wolves had been reintroduced into Arizona, but she had yet to see or hear one so close to her ranch. Was it an omen?
Carolina paused in her chores to stare out the open barn door into the gathering darkness.
For a moment, she let herself get caught up in the long, solitary note. It felt like the cry of a kindred spirit. She knew loneliness intimately. Only her loneliness did not come from the vast miles of the sun-parched Sonoran desert that surrounded her, but out of the necessity to protect her goddess, her land’s secret. As one of the few amongst her people to become a guardian, her choices were limited.
The one occasion she’d invested herself in another, he’d betrayed her. She’d foolishly placed her hope and trust in Billy and she’d paid a horrendous price. Her desire to find someone to share the workload, her joy and sadness, and the burden of her secret—just as her parents had done—had blinded her to the trap she’d walked into. By the time she understood what was happening, it was too late. Her parents were dead.
Her heart weighed heavy in her chest as if it had happened recently and not five years ago. The memory of her parents lingered too close to the surface today. This had been their land, their dream, and now it was hers to fight for. She’d vowed never to fail them again. Above her own needs came the higher purpose of protecting her goddess at all costs.
Her mare, Mariposa, snorted and reared up, pulling Carolina from her thoughts. The animals had been growing edgier with each passing minute. They sensed the evil that blew in with the warm desert breeze. She berated herself for not paying more attention to them.
Goose bumps prickled her skin. Her tattoo, a gift from the goddess, began a slow burn on her shoulder, a sure sign that evil was approaching. She felt the heat radiating through the fabric of her denim shirt. The last time she’d experienced the odd sensation, her world had fallen apart.
Cautiously, she turned her head, seeking the source.
Her breath came out in a gasp.
Less than ten feet away sat a magnificent gray wolf, watching her. Waiting.
***
He detected no fear in the cihuatl, the woman. Surprise, wariness, yes, but not fear. How unexpected.
Even more unexpected was the crisp, refreshing scent of water that he’d caught out in the desert, surrounding her. He tested the air, his olfactory senses lingering over the fragrance, noting it smelled as pure now as it did then. His wolf remained alert, uninterested in the woman before it. Once more they were in complete disagreement.
Everything about the cihuatl interested Tomás.
She wore jeans long faded to a soft blue from years of use, topped with a denim shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to her elbows. When she’d turned, he’d noted her lean, fit body, the smooth play of her muscles beneath the cloth. She’d pulled her long, dark hair back in a single braid that lay over her shoulder down to the slope of her breast. Her chestnut eyes watched him guardedly.
“I don’t know if you’re the reason my skin is on fire, but you need to leave.”
Her words floated across the distance.
His wolf pricked its ears up. Tomás did the same.
She stared at him with such seriousness that Tomás was entranced. She should be afraid of him, at least edging away to put distance between them. Yet, whether she’d realized it or not, she’d taken two steps closer.
There was harmony in her tones, the sound so clear it flowed through his tattered soul.
“Go.” Her arms hung loose at her sides, but ever so slowly she raised them. Her movements appeared smooth, like ripples across a pool of water, barely noticeable.
This unusual woman intrigued him. A vague memory passed over him like a cloud. And like a cloud, it was too insubstantial for him to hold on to. It had been so long since he had remembered his human past.
For centuries his life had revolved around duty and the constant fight to protect humanity from the demons unleashed by vengeful Aztec gods. He was a shadow warrior, one of the strongest, bravest souls chosen by Huitzilopochtli to defend humanity against evil. In his human life, he had been a seasoned, battle-hardened warrior who fought until the very end. In death, he continued the fight, never resting until he fulfilled his duty to his god. Tomás’s contact with humans remained minimal. He did his job and left. He mixed with humans insofar as it helped him get his target, but never had he cared to spend any time with one of them.
Until now.
This woman might be his spirit mate and that changed everything.
Even his wolf showed none of its prior urgency to chase the demon. Something about this woman held them both captive. Her expression remained intent and focused. She appeared to be a woman of strength wrapped up in an aura of innocence; a combination he found alluring. Confusion warred with rediscovered emotions. He wanted to reach out and touch the woman, connect with her somehow, the need overpowering. His wolf growled, warning him against such recklessness.
The woman stepped back as if she suddenly realized she should get to safety. Each movement flowed from the other and he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
An animal squealed in pain and they both whipped their heads around. The animals in their stalls erupted into a wild frenzy. The woman spared him a brief glance before tearing down the center aisle.
The wolf picked up the scent and Tomás cursed. How had he and his animal spirit missed it? He’d been hunting the demon. It looked like the demon had found him instead.
Chapter Two

A muffled gurgle came from the far end of the barn. Carolina slowed her steps, recognizing the folly of running in blind. The sounds of an animal in distress made her stomach clench.
Did it have to do with the wolf? Had a second wolf slipped past her when her back had been turned to feed the horses? Only that didn’t explain the searing burn coming from her tattoo.
Slowly, she approached the last stall. From a window cut up high in the barn wall, the last remnants of daylight illuminated a crouched figure huddled over the prone body of her goat. She couldn’t see his face but his clothes were dusty and in tatters. He was most likely an illegal immigrant who had crossed the desert border between Mexico and America to seek a better life. A border crosser she could handle.
“Señor,” she spoke to the man softly in Spanish, “please keep your hands where I can see them.” She didn’t see a weapon, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
Her tattoo burned red hot as the man turned partially around, so only half his face appeared. Carolina gasped. Even in the dim light, she recognized those features. “Billy? What are you doing here? You son of a bitch!”
She’d fallen for the ranch hand’s pretty face and honeyed words, certain she’d found her forever after. The bastard had lured her into the barn one day and tied her up. By the time she got loose, she’d found he’d disappeared while her parents lay in the desert sand, murdered. Signs of a demon attack had been everywhere.
“How dare you?” she spat at him.
He smiled, a slow stretching of his lips. She despised him. What a fool she’d been.
And then he turned completely around, letting her see him.
Charred skin disfigured one side of his face, while a black, fathomless pit filled one empty eye socket. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Tzitzimime!
Instinctively she chanted an ancient Aztec protection prayer, passed down by her ancestors. Tzitzimime were demons, evil spirits that preyed on the weak, stole their bodies and devoured their souls. All those years ago, Billy must have made a deal with a demon and now he was one. Billy shrieked, a high-pitched sound that agitated the horses, causing them to rear up in their stalls and kick the wood. She chanted louder, taking one step after another closer to the evil being who possessed her former boyfriend’s body. Her heart pounded in her chest.
“In the name of my goddess, leave my land!” Carolina threw out her hand. Upon her birth, the goddess had gifted her with the elemental power of water. The power built, then fizzled, too weak to answer her need. Stupid! She had gone too long without replenishing her water supply. As a guardian of the sacred land of the Tohono O’odham tribe, she knew better than to get into this shape. Overtaxing herself had rendered her unable to protect her goddess.
A large streak of fur barreled past her. A low, menacing growl indicated the wolf had joined her.
Backed into a corner, and with the wolf snapping at his heels, Billy clawed his way up the barn walls. He hissed and spewed black smoke. She needed a source of water and fast. Carolina drew her fingertips across her brow, wiping up the perspiration. She flung the water droplets into the air, capturing the smoke and trapping it.
“Clever trick, Carolina,” the tzitzimime hissed, “but you are weak and I can feel it.”
Billy’s charred jaw dropped to his chest and he let out an ear-piercing shriek. The maniacal sound brought her to her knees. In vain she tried to block the noise with her hands. Pain vibrated in her brain. Her ears rang and nausea churned in her stomach. She peeked over at the wolf to see how it was faring in the attack.
It was gone. In the animal’s place stood a large, equally imposing broad-shouldered man, entirely nude.
She sucked in a breath. Her eyes took in the hard, lean muscles, tan skin covered with nicks and scars. A body honed from battle and made to be a weapon.
His head turned and she stared into the golden eyes of the wolf, and for the first time she really tasted fear.
Her head whirling with the implications, she barely heard the whispered command that clothed him in boots and black jeans, but left him bare-chested.
A shadow warrior. A legend.
Her goddess had spoken of the shadow warriors with reverence and fear. A wave of trepidation gripped her. Was the shadow warrior’s presence a coincidence or did the Aztec sun god suspect the truth?
The high-pitched cackle of the demon grounded her.
Speculation would have to wait. Once again, her land and her life were being threatened. Tonight she would fight to protect her home and her secrets.
And, goddess willing, she wouldn’t die while doing it.
***
“Tzitzimime,” Tomás’s voice boomed inside the barn, “it’s my duty to see you back to where you belong.” The misshapen man spewing poison had once been human; only now the rotted corpse was a vessel filled by the demon’s spirit. The Aztec celestial demons were bent on destroying the world and his god, Huitzilopochtli.
The wolf in him raised its head, snarled and pushed for dominance. Tomás felt it clawing for freedom, the animal dangerously close to the surface. His fingers curled at his sides and the edges of his vision deteriorated. He battled his wolf for control. His body bowed forward, but he fought back.
His wolf retreated, yet Tomás knew they’d be at it again soon. One of these days, he’d lose the battle permanently. Then he would be no better than a tzitzimime, a spirit trapped within another body, traveling the world without purpose, without honor.
The demon made gibberish sounds as he climbed higher up the wall, obviously searching for a way to escape.
“Working together, we can box him in.” The woman’s bell-like tones cut through the demon’s harsh sounds, a soothing balm that touched Tomás’s soul and calmed the beast within.
“Get out of here, cihuatl. I will deal with him.” He didn’t wait to see if the woman obeyed.
With his feet braced apart, one arm raised, he let out a warrior’s cry that filled the night sky. “Macuahuitl!” Into his hand appeared a wooden sword with obsidian blades embedded along the sides, the volcanic flint sharpened to lethal points. He brought his other hand up and two-fisted the four-foot weapon, holding it like a bat just above his shoulder. The macuahuitl could decapitate a horse. Lately, Tomás preferred tearing into demons with claws and teeth and then dragging the broken, evil spirit back to the netherworld. This time, though, he had an audience. The sword produced less gore.
The demon hissed, his mouth a slash in the skin stretched tightly over one half of his skull, a stark contrast to the purity of the right side of his face. Tomás prepared to swing, when he realized the woman had not moved. “Stay back!”
He growled low in his throat. Why hadn’t she done as he ordered? Most humans did as he commanded, his will overriding theirs.
She shocked him further by chanting in the ancient language of his people. The words floated in the air, filling the chamber with power. How had she come by her knowledge? She chanted, her hands up, palms out as she walked directly towards the demon.
Tomás stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Do not!” Fury coursed through him at her recklessness. The move put him too close to the demon. With the woman directly behind him, he didn’t have enough room to maneuver his sword arm.
The demon’s mouth opened, his jaws unhinging like a snake’s, and a stream of fire burst forth. Tomás raised the macuahuitl to protect them both. The heat of the flames still managed to sear his skin as he used his free arm to sweep the woman out of harm’s way and throw them both to the floor. He twisted as they fell, tossing his weapon aside to prevent either of them being sliced open by the blades. He took the brunt of the fall, landing hard on his shoulder.
“Run,” he ordered. She was a distraction and she was in danger every second she spent around the demon.
“Not a chance,” she shot back as she scrambled to her feet. “He’s mine to fight.” Her eyes were wide and round—not with fear, but something else—determination and anger. In all the centuries of his existence, he’d never met a woman as bullheaded as her.
“Woman, move out of the way!”
The demon pounced. Tomás rolled over and kicked out his legs, slamming into the dead man’s ribs. Bone cracked and snapped, but it did little to faze the demon possessing the mortal’s body. As Tomás got to his feet, the demon attacked, slashing with his sharp claws. Tomás felt each jagged nail rip into his gut. Blood spurted and he staggered back.
***
Billy moved with incredible speed, grasping her neck with a one-handed grip and lifting her up into the air. His hot, foul breath poured over her. Carolina kicked out feebly. She called up her powers, but they were weak and unable to respond. She needed water. And he knew it.
Her breath labored as the tzitzimime squeezed. Clawed fingers sliced through her denim shirt, exposing her tattoo. Dainty and inked with the colors of the Sonoran desert, her hummingbird tattoo began to glow, the light brighter than the moon and twice as hot as the sun. Billy shrieked and tossed her. She hit a stall gate and slid down to the floor. Behind her, she heard a horse kick out, splintering the wooden slats. Something clattered to the ground—the feed bucket from the sound of grains spilling out in a loud whoosh. If she could reach the water bucket, she might have a chance.
She clutched her head and gasped for breath as pain from the knock on her head bounced around her skull. She had to get back up and fight. She had to protect her land. Billy had nearly destroyed her five years ago. His betrayal had cost her the lives of her parents and had almost led to the annihilation of her goddess. The ravages of that fateful day remained evident in the scars on the land, the drying up of large reservoirs of water and the gaping hole in her heart.
Rage flooded her system, giving her the energy to pull herself up from the floor, using the stall gate for support. There’d been lesser demons sniffing around since that day. She should’ve guessed it was in preparation for a big attack. Her mare lashed out again. Carolina had no time to calm the animal. She reached over the stall gate and dipped her hand in the horse’s water bucket hooked to the door. She soaked up the elemental power. Its energy renewed her and she headed once more into battle. She pitched like a baseball player. The demon shrieked and scurried to avoid being hit with the hard, speeding balls of water.
She would make Billy pay. For her parents, for her goddess, for herself, she would see him in hell.
***
Pain gripped Tomás, and he pressed his hand against the wound. Blood poured through his fingers. He was a warrior and the injury was not life-threatening. He had to secure the demon fast before he caused more damage.
His wolf snarled, moving under his skin, pushing its way up to the surface and blurring his vision. He fought the change. Hurt as he was, in wolf form, Tomás would be unable to control the beast and the wolf spirit did not discriminate. If he succumbed to the wolf, the woman would be in danger. Tomás got to his feet and forced his wolf to retreat temporarily.
The woman stood tall, without fear. As she lobbed water at the demon, she chanted louder, and the air swelled with power. Her words were like music to his ears—he could feel his body move with the rhythm and skill of his ancestors. He grabbed his sword and charged the demon. Raising the weapon above his head, he swung downward. The obsidian blades tore through skin and bone. The tzitzimime’s arm thudded to the ground. The tainted blood that spilled from the severed limb ignited the barn floor. Acrid black smoke rose rapidly, engulfing the barn. The animals panicked.
Water cascaded in an arc above his head and landed on the fire but did little to contain the blaze.
The red-hot inferno licked the sides of the barn. Smoke swirled around them. Tomás turned back to confront his enemy only to find the demon escaping, leaving the severed, bloody arm behind.
“Help me!” The woman had stopped hurling water and was trying to put the fire out with a blanket.
His number one duty was to capture the demon. Five hundred years ago, the Aztec sun god Huitzilopochtli had chosen him to join an elite cadre of warriors, called shadow warriors, to track down and fight evil spirits and to be a shield between humanity and evil. In all these centuries, duty had always come first.
“Please, hurry!”
Her voice pierced his heart, when he hadn’t thought he had a heart left. The beautiful woman with dark eyes pleading for his assistance had somehow claimed a part of his soul that he believed had been all but devoured by his wolf spirit. A small light of humanity remained like a tiny flicker in the distance. His wolf growled, pulling him towards the chase, but Tomás hesitated. He would risk Huitzilopochtli’s wrath with what he was contemplating.
He willed his sword away and ran to her side, and for the first time in centuries, he allowed his enemy to escape.
Chapter Three

Working together, they quickly put out the fire. Ashes and smoke made Carolina’s eyes water and a film of sweat covered her body. She ignored the discomfort. She also ignored the shadow warrior standing nearby. She appreciated his help, but she needed him gone. She turned her attention to the animals still spooked by the tzitzimime and the fire.
She spoke to each one gently before leading the animal outside to the corral. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the shadow warrior. No words left his lips, but she’d swear he communicated to the animals—their submissiveness was most unusual.
She latched the corral gate and took a deep breath. One…no, make that two more to go. A moan hitched in her throat and she hastily swallowed it.
She wanted to cry but refused to give in. Every drop of liquid was precious. She would need her strength if she were to fight the tzizimime again…Billy.
She’d thought that slimy bastard gone, maybe demon food. Now he was back in her life, her worst nightmare revisited, a vivid reminder of her biggest failure and all she still had to lose.
A demon. A shadow warrior. Both on her land. What had drawn them here? She wanted to believe in coincidence, but she wasn’t stupid.
The shadow warrior watched her, his gaze inscrutable. What was he thinking?
Really, it was all too much, she thought as she trudged back to the barn, her silent shadow following in her footsteps. She needed to find a way to make him leave.
Inside the barn, the stench of charred wood filled her nostrils. The electric lamp that hung on the wall cast a stark glare over the damage. It would require hard work and money she didn’t have to restore it. Carolina pushed aside her distress and headed directly for the last stall.
She slipped into the cubicle, found a spot in the hay not soaked in blood and knelt. Tears clogged her throat and swam in her eyes as she looked upon the slain corpse of Tito, her goat. Pepe, his brother, huddled in the far corner, bleating softly.
Memories of the last time she’d had to deal with death overcame her. Images of the broken, mutilated bodies of her parents strewn out on the hot desert floor were forever burned into her mind. She’d barely taken in their mangled condition, a cry torn from her lips, when the demon had pounced. She’d fought him off, but he’d been strong, stronger than any other she had ever fought, the infusion of death in the air lending the demon strength. She would have joined her parents that day had it not been for her goddess joining her in the fight. Carolina pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deeply, forcing the memories to retreat. She reached down, intending to pick up the lifeless body, when she was brushed aside. Startled, she glanced up to see the shadow warrior squatting beside her.
“Why do you weep for this animal? It is just a beast.”
His tone held no condemnation, but she found herself bristling anyway. “I am not crying. That doesn’t mean Tito—”
“Your soul weeps for him. I can feel it in here.” He thumped his chest.
Anger and grief mixed together. “I raised him from a kid. I won’t let Billy, a tzitzimime, take another family member away from me. Tito was family.”
The shadow warrior nodded, but she sensed that family had little meaning to him, when to her it meant everything.
“You must destroy the carcass. The demon’s blood carries evil that can seep into the ground and spread its poison.”
“I know.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. She was holding on to her control by a thread. Her world felt bleak and desolate. Why had she been chosen as a guardian? Water was supposed to bring life, not destruction. She looked down at the small, helpless animal. Another life lost because she had failed. How much more devastation could she withstand? She reached out to put her hands under the body, only to find them trapped between the shadow warrior’s two larger ones.
“Cihuatl, were you not listening? It is poison.”
Carolina struggled to break free of his grip. She felt the strength in his hands, the roughness that was testament to the work he did. A tingle traveled up her palm and along her nerve endings. The hummingbird on her shoulder pulsated, but it didn’t hurt. Instead, she felt warm and fuzzy like she’d had one too many drinks at the local watering hole. She ignored the throb of her tattoo, glaring at him for all she was worth. “I am not stupid. I know very well what I am doing. And stop calling me woman,” she snapped. “My name is Carolina.”
“You do not fear me, do you? Nor do you cower in the face of a tzitzimime. Yet you are human. Why is that?”
Her breath caught in her chest. He was right. She didn’t fear him. Since the moment he’d stepped onto her land, he had mesmerized her. The heat of his hands warmed the cold thoughts of death and dissipated her anger.
Before she could sputter any kind of response, one of his hands whipped up and pushed the ripped material of her denim shirt aside, where it had been sliced open by the claws of the tzitzimime.
His gaze speared her in place. “You bear the mark of a warrior.”
***
The glowing mark of a hummingbird on the woman kept him transfixed. He needed to know more about her. In all his years, he had never stumbled upon a human who bore a warrior’s mark and had the power to call on the elements. She wielded water as masterfully as he wielded his weapon.
“You have power, elemental power that I have never seen in a human. Just who are you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Her voice came out low and musical, and he found it arousing.
“You have power over the element of water and you bear a huitzilin, the hummingbird mark. You are no ordinary woman.”
She laughed at that, a melodic sound tinged with sadness. “Believe me, I am quite ordinary. From sunup to sundown I run this ranch. I rarely get into town and the last man I dated was someone I deeply regret.” She went to move, tugging at her hands still trapped within his one.
Tomás kept his grip firm. She had shown no fear or surprise at his appearance nor had she backed down from fighting an evil spirit. She was a puzzle he badly wanted to solve. He also didn’t like hearing about other men. A primitive sense of possessiveness swept over him.
“Tell me your name.” His words came out clipped, harsher than he intended. Thoughts of other men sniffing around her made his muscles tense and put his wolf on alert. He forced himself to relax slowly.
She narrowed her eyes and thrust her jaw out mulishly. “I told you already. Carolina.”
“Carolina.” Her name rolled off his tongue.
“And you are?”
“Tomás.”
She gave him a wry smile. “Somehow I doubt that is your first name, shadow warrior.”
Tomás felt the beast in him rise up in defense. It growled for caution. He paid no heed to the animal’s instinct. He was intrigued.
“How do you know of shadow warriors?” He pushed closer, almost on top of her, the wolf peering out through his eyes.
The woman didn’t back down. She showed strength.
“My mother was from the Tohono O’odham tribe—the people of the desert. She shared many stories about your kind from legends passed down from one generation to the next. Immortal warriors for the sun god, Huitzilopochtli, sent to earth to destroy the celestial demons, tzizimime.”
Tomás nodded. It explained why she had not turned and fled like most humans would have when he transformed from a wolf to a man. The heat of her mark drew him closer, the sensation searing his fingertips. The wolf knew only of survival, but this close to Carolina, the man in him knew of another instinct, a deeper hunger. He wanted to taste her lips and drink in her sweet power, which he could feel washing over him, calming the beast inside. In the five hundred years since giving his soul to Huitzilopochtli, he had never desired to get close to another human as he did with Carolina. He should be chasing a demon, not chasing a woman.
But she wasn’t just any woman. More than ever, he felt he had found his spirit mate.
The wolf pushed at his insides, reminding him that the beast was never far away and that he was never as free as he wished. “You seem to know much about me. But you have yet to tell me who you are.”
***
There was curiosity in his voice, and respect. His fingers lightly brushed her tattoo and she shivered in response. Her entire body reacted to this man. She didn’t understand any of it and she didn’t like being off balance. She needed time and distance to think.
“I need to tend to my goat.” She nodded towards the goat shaking in the corner.
She scrambled to her feet. This time he let her. She grabbed a lead and attached it to Pepe’s collar, using it to tug the goat out of the barn and into the corral with the others. Its pitiful bleating tore at her heart, reminding her of all she still had to lose if she let herself get distracted.
Tomás emerged from the barn doorway, the bloody corpse of Tito in his arms. She sucked in a breath to contain the pain ripping through her chest. How many of those she loved would she have to lose in this fight?
She shook the thought loose, feeling guilt for even thinking such a thing. Her role as guardian required sacrifice. There was no other way.
As Tomás approached Carolina, she turned on her boot heels and silently headed for a patch of land dominated by a huge juniper tree. Tall and strong, the tree had overseen the birth and death of generations of her people. It had managed to survive despite the scarcity of water, but each day the river dried up and the earth cried out in thirst, and Carolina knew their days were numbered.
She gestured to a spot far enough from the tree that it would not catch fire. Tomás laid his burden down. “I just realized I don’t even have kindling or a light. What was I thinking?” She hiccupped and blindly stared out across the dark desert horizon—anything to avoid looking down at the pet she’d raised from a baby.
“Your pain disturbs me. I do not like it.” As he frowned at her, his body bowed over and reshaped. Under the light of the full moon, Carolina watched in awe, unable to tear her eyes from the ripple of muscles, the incredible transformation taking place in front of her. One minute he was a man and the next he was a large gray wolf.
The wolf stared at her with such directness she felt a shiver rise from her toes and climb all the way up her spine. She backed up, allowing the beautiful beast room. Something in the wolf’s gaze reminded her that at heart it was a predator.
The wolf used its huge paws to dig a pit large enough to lay Tito to rest. Carolina watched, captivated by the animal’s power.
“Thank you.” Overcoming her unease, Carolina reached out her hand to touch the wolf. It laid its ears back and shied away. She dropped her hand to her side.
Carolina made a quick trip to the barn to grab a pair of work gloves she kept by the door and some matches. With her hands protected from the demon’s poison, she put her energy into rolling Tito into the grave. She gathered brush and bits of kindling to throw on top. The wolf aided her by clasping twigs and branches in its teeth and releasing them over the pit. She peeled off the gloves and tossed them in as well. Her fingers trembled as she lit a match and threw it on the wood. She chanted the words of an ancient Aztec prayer, determined to send the soul of her animal companion to a better place. When finished, she bowed her head and fought off the tears. Bathed by the light of the moon, the two of them waited for Tito’s body to be consumed by the flames. On her knees, she continued to pray to her goddess, asking for strength and wisdom in the fight ahead. Vaguely, she became aware of the wolf tossing dirt back into the hole once the fire had died out.
She raised her head and observed the transformation from beast to man. She realized he was again completely nude and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She had never seen a man naked before. Even with the four jagged claw marks marring his stomach, he had the kind of body artists immortalized in paint and clay. Embarrassment crept up into her cheeks.
His gaze rested on her thoughtfully before he clothed himself in black jeans, leaving his chest bare, his entire demeanor speaking loudly of his ease with nudity. She was both relieved and disappointed. Disturbed by her thoughts, she made to get up. Tomás held his hand out to her. She tentatively laid her palm on his and let him help her to her feet.
She’d been prepared for the tingle she’d felt before, not the surge of electricity that shot through her system. His eyes went from amber to golden and she thought she caught the sound of a growl in his throat.
She tried to pull her hand from his, but he wouldn’t let go. Instead he tugged her closer until she was scant inches from his chest. His hand slipped behind her neck to cup her nape.
“You are an unusual cihuatl.”
Carolina shook her head, which was difficult given her position. “You persist in saying that, but it is not true. I am a plain, simple woman.”
“There is nothing simple about you. I am determined to learn everything about you.”
“But you can’t—” Carolina cried, only to be cut off by Tomás’s mouth coming down on hers.
***
Sparks shot through his bloodstream, igniting a fire that could easily blaze out of control. He hadn’t kissed a woman in five centuries. Carnal thoughts had disappeared once he’d joined the ranks of the shadow warriors. Amazingly, those thoughts were now back with a vengeance.
Carolina melted into him.
She wound her arms around his neck. Her lips softened and opened, allowing him to slip inside. She tasted of innocence, determination and strength.
The air around them swirled with energy. The atmosphere crackled with it. Power seemed to move over and around them, weaving a spell they could not escape. Memories of his family, his childhood and his battles as an Aztec warrior flooded his mind in rapid succession, triggering an emotional tidal wave that threatened to engulf them both.
His wolf lunged to the surface, the move aggressive, instinctual and entirely territorial.
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.