handle and inserted the key, when her tattoo flared up. Pain bit into her flesh, burning a trail up her arm. She turned back to Manuel, uncertain.
His eyes glowed with golden fire. Manuel pushed her behind him.
Fear crawled up into her throat. She reached for her gun and bent low.
Manuel twisted the key and threw open the door.
Galante looked up from where he was pulling picture frames off the living room wall and dropping them onto the tiled floor. A malicious grin spread across his face. Worse, he wasn’t alone.
“Freeze! Put your hands behind your head, both of you, now,” Ixa ordered from behind him.
“Get back in the car. It isn’t safe for you here,” Manuel practically growled at her. He could feel his eagle rising up, eager to do battle. Two demons would command all of his attention. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by Ixa’s presence.
“Your abuelo is not here, Detective. Where is he?” Galante dangled a photograph from between his fingers.
“Stay the hell away from my abuelo, Galante. It’s me you want, not him.” Manuel heard the slight tremble in her voice. She feared for her relative. He had no time to reassure her, as he had to watch the movements of the two tzitzimime very carefully. Demons were tricky and deceitful.
Galante blew on the photo and it exploded into flames. Ixa cried out and made a move forward. Manuel threw up his arm to block her.
He cursed himself for letting his libido distract him outside.
Galante cackled, while his partner let out a strange high-pitched giggle, the earsplitting combination loud enough to mess with his focus.
Galante cut off his laughter abruptly. “I don’t give a damn about your old man. Metztli wants him.” He pointed a finger directly at Ixa. “After I deliver gramps to my master, I will cut your heart out.”
Fury and fear mixed together, making for a potent cocktail. The warrior in him would not let the putrid demons touch his spirit mate. He would not fail her as he had his family so many centuries ago.
He threw his hand in the air and called for his mystical weapon. “ Atlatl!”
The smooth wooden spear-thrower materialized in his hand. The deadly shaft-shaped bow held the dart in its cradle. The atlatl and its dart had been the weapon Cortez and his conquistadors had feared the most. And for good reason—the simplistic-looking bow and arrow had the speed and accuracy to pierce Spanish armor and had sent many a man to meet his maker.
Galante laughed, “What are you going to do with that stick, cabrón ? Poke me to death?”
“Yes, I am.”
With the flick of his arm, the needle-sharp dart went flying into Galante’s chest cavity.
Shock and anger contorted the demon’s face.
Wounded but not down, Galante shouted at his companion, “Get him!”
The second demon flew across the floor. Manuel ran forward to meet him, ramming into the second demon’s chest and driving him back into the wall. The last picture frame left hanging shook and fell, the glass crashing on impact. The tzitzimime clawed at Manuel’s back, raking the skin. His eagle let loose a loud cry and pushed to take over.
Manuel ordered his beast back down. He had to maintain his humanity. He had spent so long tracking Galante he had not eaten for days and anyone who got in the eagle’s way was considered food, including Ixa. He could sense the eagle’s severe hunger.
He threw the tzitzimime off.
Cloying, black smoke filled the room. Manuel spun around searching for the second tzitzimime. His eagle eyes spied Galante through the smoky air. The demon pulled the spear from his chest. He broke the wood in half and threw it across the room.
Manuel let out a warrior cry and went for Galante. The demon’s eyes blazed with a hellish fire, his sights set on Ixa. “I will be back for you.”
Before Manuel could reach him, Galante disintegrated into smoke and poured out through the open door.
Manuel cursed himself for being a second too slow. His failure
His eyes glowed with golden fire. Manuel pushed her behind him.
Fear crawled up into her throat. She reached for her gun and bent low.
Manuel twisted the key and threw open the door.
Galante looked up from where he was pulling picture frames off the living room wall and dropping them onto the tiled floor. A malicious grin spread across his face. Worse, he wasn’t alone.
“Freeze! Put your hands behind your head, both of you, now,” Ixa ordered from behind him.
“Get back in the car. It isn’t safe for you here,” Manuel practically growled at her. He could feel his eagle rising up, eager to do battle. Two demons would command all of his attention. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by Ixa’s presence.
“Your abuelo is not here, Detective. Where is he?” Galante dangled a photograph from between his fingers.
“Stay the hell away from my abuelo, Galante. It’s me you want, not him.” Manuel heard the slight tremble in her voice. She feared for her relative. He had no time to reassure her, as he had to watch the movements of the two tzitzimime very carefully. Demons were tricky and deceitful.
Galante blew on the photo and it exploded into flames. Ixa cried out and made a move forward. Manuel threw up his arm to block her.
He cursed himself for letting his libido distract him outside.
Galante cackled, while his partner let out a strange high-pitched giggle, the earsplitting combination loud enough to mess with his focus.
Galante cut off his laughter abruptly. “I don’t give a damn about your old man. Metztli wants him.” He pointed a finger directly at Ixa. “After I deliver gramps to my master, I will cut your heart out.”
Fury and fear mixed together, making for a potent cocktail. The warrior in him would not let the putrid demons touch his spirit mate. He would not fail her as he had his family so many centuries ago.
He threw his hand in the air and called for his mystical weapon. “ Atlatl!”
The smooth wooden spear-thrower materialized in his hand. The deadly shaft-shaped bow held the dart in its cradle. The atlatl and its dart had been the weapon Cortez and his conquistadors had feared the most. And for good reason—the simplistic-looking bow and arrow had the speed and accuracy to pierce Spanish armor and had sent many a man to meet his maker.
Galante laughed, “What are you going to do with that stick, cabrón ? Poke me to death?”
“Yes, I am.”
With the flick of his arm, the needle-sharp dart went flying into Galante’s chest cavity.
Shock and anger contorted the demon’s face.
Wounded but not down, Galante shouted at his companion, “Get him!”
The second demon flew across the floor. Manuel ran forward to meet him, ramming into the second demon’s chest and driving him back into the wall. The last picture frame left hanging shook and fell, the glass crashing on impact. The tzitzimime clawed at Manuel’s back, raking the skin. His eagle let loose a loud cry and pushed to take over.
Manuel ordered his beast back down. He had to maintain his humanity. He had spent so long tracking Galante he had not eaten for days and anyone who got in the eagle’s way was considered food, including Ixa. He could sense the eagle’s severe hunger.
He threw the tzitzimime off.
Cloying, black smoke filled the room. Manuel spun around searching for the second tzitzimime. His eagle eyes spied Galante through the smoky air. The demon pulled the spear from his chest. He broke the wood in half and threw it across the room.
Manuel let out a warrior cry and went for Galante. The demon’s eyes blazed with a hellish fire, his sights set on Ixa. “I will be back for you.”
Before Manuel could reach him, Galante disintegrated into smoke and poured out through the open door.
Manuel cursed himself for being a second too slow. His failure
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