The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1)

by Camilla Ochlan

  Shit.

  Outside, she heard the muffled sounds of scratching — like shoes scuffling across gravel.

  Someone's coming.

  Xochitl held her breath, afraid to make a sound.

  The trunk squeaked open a crack. A sliver of light pierced the darkness. Xochitl could make out three male forms.

  "Put her in the cage."

  Xochitl immediately recognized the voice.

  Memo.

  The door rose all the way, flooding the trunk with sunlight. Xochitl squinted up to see Tuti, one of Memo's more sadistic henchmen, staring down at her.

  "We're gonna have some fun, little güera."Tuti grinned, his fist cocking back.

  Xochitl struggled to scream through her gag. Then all was dark.

  Chapter 11

  CLOSURES

  Southbound I-405

  MILE 17.5

  57 MINUTES

  "¡Ay carajo, pendejo! Quit honking!" Xochitl flipped the bird to a car crawling past her window. It blared its horn as it slowly crested the Sepulveda Pass.

  "I can't go any faster!" She looked down at the speedometer on El Gallo's instrument panel. "¡Híjole! We're barely going over ten miles an hour!"

  "Jeez!" Lucy jolted upright.

  "I thought you were resting." Xochitl glanced at her partner.

  "How can I when you've been shouting for the past hour?" Lucy shifted in her seat and drew in a quick breath.

  "Sorry. But man, if it's not the giant rig slowing us down," Xochitl looked up into the rearview mirror to check on the fifteen-foot trailer rattling behind the Toronado, "it's the bumper-to-bumper traffic." She yelled at the cars in front of her. "It's past nine at night. Where are all you people going? Don't you have homes?"

  "Construction." Lucy yawned.

  "But I checked," Xochitl whined. "Why does Caltrans bother having a closure website, if they don't update the pinche thing?"

  El Gallo inched over the ridge of the 405 Freeway. Stationed on the shoulder, bright work lights illuminated orange dumpster trucks and construction workers wearing reflective jackets and hard hats.

  "Wasn't this freeway 'improvement' supposed to be finished years ago?" Xochitl grumbled.

  "That's what they promised," Lucy replied.

  "At this rate, it'll be sunrise before we get to San Pedro." Xochitl rested her elbow on the edge of the driver side door and leaned her head on her hand. "We're not gonna make our window."

  "I'd better call Hanna." Lucy dug out her phone from her bomber jacket. "Give her an update."

  "¡Oye, pendejo! Move!" Xochitl laid on the horn.

  "Xoch." Lucy lightly shoved Xochitl's arm and turned on the radio. "Here, go to your happy place."

  "...and should the two-year quarantine be lifted and California's borders be reopened? The debate continues tomorrow on Fleming's Beltway Report," a dulcet male voice said. "Coming up next on KNUZ 88.3 FM, World Music with Malik Okombo, after these messages."

  "Hound Chow...Hound Chow...It's all your Hound chows..." The music of an upbeat commercial jingle blasted through the car speakers. "Hound Ch—"

  "Ugh." Xochitl turned off the radio. "That song always gets stuck in my head."

  "I think it's catchy," Lucy replied.

  Xochi glared at her friend who had her cell phone up to her ear. "She's not answer—"

  Lucy raised her hand. "Hey Hanna, it's Luce. I was hoping to catch you...Maybe you're at Molly's...I hate talking into these things..."

  Xochitl lightly tapped Lucy and motioned for her to get on with the message.

  "...Oh, anyway...Wait, there's a beeping noise..." Lucy looked at her phone.

  "Someone's trying to call in." Xochitl sighed. "Answer it."

  "How?" Lucy pushed a button. "Shoot. I think I lost them." Lucy clicked back to her original call. "Damn it. I lost my call."

  Xochitl rolled her eyes.

  "Oh, wait." Lucy looked down on her phone and pressed the telephone button again. "Hello...Oh hey, Hanna...yeah that was me...I know. Xochitl thinks so too..."

  That must drive Hanna nuts.

  "Well, we have that in common at least," Xochi mumbled, frustrated by Lucy's lack of technological prowess.

  Lucy put her finger up to her mouth to shush Xochitl. "... No, it went fine. We got him...Umm..." Lucy glanced at her, looking concerned.

  "What?" Xochitl whispered.

  "...Well, no...Now, look Hanna. This is Xochitl's friend and we needed to help him...You don't charge for a case—"

  "Charge!" Xochitl knew now Hanna was upset they hadn't charged for taking care of Travis. "You tell Hanna...No! I'll tell her." Xochitl tried to grab Lucy's phone, but Lucy swatted her hand away.

  "Keep your eyes on the road," Lucy sternly whispered, putting her hand over the receiver. "I'll handle this."

  Xochitl turned away from Lucy and stared out the windshield. She was fuming mad. "How dare she," Xochitl mumbled, exasperated.

  "Hanna? You there?" Lucy asked. "Look, it is what it is. We did a friend a favor. End of story."

  Xochitl glanced at Lucy, surprised and proud at how she'd handled Hanna. "There's hope for you yet," Xochitl whispered.

  "Anyway," Lucy continued. "During the Travis run, we came across what I think was mange..."

  The memory of Feral Marley scabbed up and dying in that cave along with the word mange had Xochitl scratching at her neck and arms again.

  "Don't scratch." Lucy slapped at Xochitl's hand. "Oh, Xochitl fell into some poison oak."

  "Don't tell her that." Xochi smacked Lucy's arm.

  "...I'm almost positive." Lucy shrugged off Xochitl's scolding. "I need you to find out if there've been any reported cases of diseased Hounds or Ferals in recent months...That'd be great. Thanks...Yeah, we'll call when we're done with Travis...It'll be a while...Okay. Bye." Lucy hung up her phone and shoved it back in her jacket pocket.

  "So?" Xochi asked.

  "She understands," Lucy replied but added nothing further.

  "I bet." Xochitl gazed out the window of El Gallo, taking in the West Side of Los Angeles — a little more difficult now that they were up to a whopping twenty-five miles an hour.

  40 Miles

  2 HOURS 32 MINUTES

  Xochitl stomach's grumbled, and she felt the beginning of a headache coming on. "I'm starving." She glanced at Lucy, slouched down in her seat, her eyes closed. "I said, I'm starving," Xochitl said louder, leaning toward Lucy for emphasis.

  "I heard you." Lucy scooted up and looked out the window. "Where are we?"

  "Almost to Carson, I think." Xochitl yawned.

  "Good." Lucy perked up. "We're almost there."

  "My ass hurts and we've been on the road almost three hours. I need some food." Xochitl shifted in her seat. "Almost there. Ha. I'll believe that when I see it."

  "Fine," Lucy said. "Take the next exit and we'll get drive-thru."

  "How are we gonna manage that with a huge monstrosity attached to us?" Xochitl grumbled.

  "Don't worry about it." Lucy pointed ahead and added in a sing-songy voice, "I see some golden arches."

  The giant gold and red sign loomed just off the exit. "Yes!" Xochi flicked on the turn signal and veered El Gallo toward the off-ramp.

  Xochitl made a slow wide turn into the parking lot of the fast food mecca. A Drive-Thru Open 24 Hours sign glowed neon red. Past the sign, a road curved around back.

  "So?" Xochitl raised her eyebrow smugly.

  "Just pull over there." Lucy nodded to the empty parking spaces ahead.

  Xochitl parked El Gallo perpendicular to the spaces, taking up all of them at once. She figured no one would need them this late at night, and she wouldn't have to worry about backing out.

  "Wait here." Lucy got out of the car and headed over to the outdoor menu sign.

  "Está loca." Xochitl chuckled as she rolled down her window to let the cold night air invigorate her.

  She leaned her head on the window frame and watched Lucy as she stood in the middle of the driv
eway conversing with a fast food menu sign. A few minutes later, Lucy walked around the corner of the building and out of sight.

  "Hound Chow, Hound Chow..." Xochitl hummed. "It's all your Hound...¡Ay carajo!" Xochitl quickly switched on the radio, desperate to exorcise the nagging jingle stuck in her head.

  "Tired of your Feral getting loose all the time? Don't want the Catchers to nab Little Joey?" a male commercial announcer's voice bellowed through the speakers. "I'm so tired of Little Joey getting out of his cage," a distressed female voice said. "What will happen to him if the Catchers nab him?" The commercial announcer answered the woman's cry for help. "What you need is the Feral Electric Collar EX. Twice the power of a regular collar with a built-in tracking system that will allow you to track Little Joey for up to ten miles with extreme accuracy. EXTREME ACCURACY!...ACCURACY...Accuracy...accuracy."

  "Or, you could just shoot Little Joey in the head and get it over with." Xochitl switched stations. "Country. No." She continued turning the dial. "Tejano, no...Classical...will put me to sleep...Crappy rap wannabe...Definitely, no. Grrr!" She switched off the radio and leaned back in her seat.

  As her eyes began to droop, a crashing bang — like orchestral cymbals smacking together — startled her.

  "What the?" Xochitl looked around. She got out of the car to investigate but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She tested the latch on the trailer doors. "Locked up nice and tight."

  "What ya doin'?" Lucy said.

  Xochitl jumped.

  "¡Híjole!" She put her hand to her chest. "Don't do that!"

  "Kinda skittish?" Lucy smirked as Xochitl gave her the evil eye. "Sorry." Lucy held up a cardboard carrier holding two huge sodas and a bag dripping with grease. "Peace offering?"

  "Those are big-ass drinks," Xochitl said, taking the soda tray from Lucy.

  "No coffee after hours." Lucy shrugged. "Thought this would be enough caffeine to see us through." She looked around. "So, what's up?"

  "Nothing," Xochitl replied. "Thought I heard something."

  Another loud bang sounded as an old, beat-up truck drove toward the on-ramp.

  "Backfire," Lucy said. "That must've been it."

  "Yeah," Xochitl agreed hesitantly, dismissing her heebie-jeebies.

  The two women made their way back to El Gallo.

  "Why don't I drive?" Lucy winked and laughed at her own joke.

  Xochitl grimaced. "You're funny."

  She opened the driver side door and scooted behind the wheel, careful not to spill the drinks.

  Lucy slid in the car beside Xochitl and took the sodas.

  No sooner had Xochitl pulled El Gallo onto the 110 South than they were stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic — miles of red taillights ahead of them.

  "NO!" Xochitl whined. "The freeway was just clear." Dejected, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel.

  "Here," Lucy said.

  Xochitl rolled her head to the side and eyed Lucy holding a half unwrapped cheeseburger.

  "I think it's an accident," Lucy said.

  Out of nowhere sirens screamed, then gradually dissipated.

  "What are you, psychic?" Xochi asked, snatching the burger.

  "Huh...I don't know." Lucy opened her container of chicken pieces and dipped them in barbecue sauce.

  Xochitl took a bite of her burger. The cheesy goodness should have made her feel better, but all she thought about were the hours ticking by and her lack of sleep. She ate the burger in a few quick bites, crumpled up the wrapper in her hand and tossed it into the bag.

  "Waaahh," she cried. "My feet itch."

  Lucy handed her the giant soda.

  "Thanks," Xochitl snarled. "That should take care of my headache but not my feet." She sucked down every drop of the caffeinated beverage, burped and shoved the empty cup into the greasy bag.

  "That's the spirit." Lucy smiled and popped the last of her chicken nuggets into her mouth.

  A high-pitched ringtone trilled through the car.

  "Crawp." Lucy chewed.

  "Bag!" Xochitl yelled at Lucy who was about to throw her nugget carton in the back seat. "This isn't your pinche pigsty of a dog carro." She pointed to the fast food bag on the floor.

  "Okay, jeez." Lucy dumped her trash, dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone, which was simultaneously ringing and vibrating.

  "It's Imogen again," Lucy groaned.

  "Answer it. She's just going to keep calling...Ooo, we're moving." Xochitl stuck El Gallo's nose between two cars and tried to merge into the next lane over. "I'm bigger than you, pendejo. Let me in." From the side-view mirror, she could see the car behind them giving El Gallo and the trailer a wide berth.

  "I'm gonna turn off the ringer." Lucy fumbled with the buttons on the phone. "There, that'll shut her up," she said with an ugly tone.

  "Hello? Lucy is that you? Am I on speaker?" Imogen sounded cheerful.

  "What? That's not possible." Lucy looked at the phone as if it had bitten her.

  Xochitl laughed. "Hi, Imogen. Lucy has been so eager to talk to you."

  Lucy pinched the middle of Xochitl's arm, just above the triceps, where the nerves were sensitive.

  "Hey, hey. Driving!" Xochitl scolded, rubbing her arm. "You and your pinche bad temper!"

  "You should talk," Lucy grumbled.

  "Is she acting out again?" Imogen inquired as if discussing a rambunctious six-year-old.

  "She pinched me with those long witchy fingers," Xochitl moaned for maximum sympathy.

  "Could be a cry for help. Maybe you are not giving her enough physical attention." Xochitl and Lucy made gagging sounds, while Imogen rustled papers and clacked on her keyboard. "It says in her files she is very closed off. Doesn't like to be touched. It really could be that violence is the only way she can establish a connection." Imogen finished, but echoed herself as she was clearly taking notes on the phone call. "Establishing physical connection through violence."

  Xochitl shuddered and mimicked Imogen's cadence, "She's sooo inappropriate. No social skills."

  "Am I gonna have to throw this phone away too?" Lucy threatened.

  "Oh, please do." Xochitl folded her hands together as if praying.

  "No, come on. It took me days to track you down after you ditched the last burner phone. It's costly, both time and money wasted." Imogen's pitch rose to a whine. "Don't throw out the phone. I'll stop analyzing your special relationship."

  Stopped again, Lucy fidgeted in her seat. Xochi found her friend's futile attempts to contain her anger extremely amusing. Lucy's shrink could wind her up so tight that her face would turn beet red and her jaw would clamp shut like a vice.

  Looks like tonight is one of those times.

  Xochitl snickered.

  "So what's up Imogen?" Lucy rolled her eyes and looked like she hoped the conversation would be over soon.

  "So how are you feeling?" Imogen asked.

  "Fine," Lucy said, not elaborating.

  "Don't you hate it when she does that?" Xochitl smiled. Lucy smacked her in the arm. "Owwah."

  Uncharacteristically, Imogen said nothing for a few moments. Xochitl looked over to Lucy — clearly irritated and rubbing her eyes.

  "Is she still there?" Xochitl whispered to Lucy. Not wanting the entertainment to end, Xochi yelled over to the phone. "You still there, Imogen?"

  "Any?" Imogen seemed to be waiting for Lucy to volunteer information, then sighed and gave up.

  "Lupe would like to meet her Aunt Lucy," Imogen stated outright.

  "You named the Werebaby Lupe?" Lucy asked.

  Xochitl's foot slipped off the break pedal. "Werebaby!" El Gallo lurched forward, nearly rear-ending the car in front of them. "You have a Werebaby!" She jammed on the breaks.

  So not funny!

  "¡Hijo de puta!" She pointed at the phone. "¡Te patina el coco!"

  "Lupe's not much of a baby anymore," Imogen continued, oblivious to Xochitl's outburst.

  "¡Es muy estúpida!" Xochitl ranted on
.

  "You should see Lupe. She's beautiful. I think I'll be sending her to school in the fall." Imogen sounded like any mom discussing her child's entrance into the school system.

  "¡Ay carajo!" Xochi threw up her arms. "¡Se acabó!"

  "You can't—" Lucy swatted at Xochitl.

  "Whatever, I'm done." Xochitl turned her attention back to the road though they were going nowhere. She tried to tune out Imogen — an impossible feat.

  "You're right. Home schooling is a better way to go." Imogen sounded deep in thought. "I was wondering if the two of you could swing by my place..."

  Xochitl shifted in her seat.

  "Switch with me," she said. "My back."

  "Right now?" Lucy mouthed.

  "Yes, while we're stopped." Xochitl put the car in park. "I can't take this anymore."

  "Hold on Imogen." Lucy shot Xochitl an annoyed look.

  "Everything okay?" Imogen asked in a sickly sweet voice that made Xochitl want to gag.

  "Yeah...Just..." Lucy grunted and scooted under Xochi, as Xochi raised herself up and shimmied over Lucy to the passenger side. "Hold...on...Ow."

  "Okay, because I have to do your quarterly report, and I can't really leave Lupe alone," Imogen continued — not holding on. "I can't really get any babysitters for her, but doggy day care doesn't really sound right either. I'm in a quandary. You could really help out here, Lucy."

  Objecting, Lucy shook her head as if she were trying to get water out of her ears. Xochitl fervently agreed.

  "No way. Just fill out the damn report and mail it to the court," Lucy said, stepped on the brake and put the car in drive.

  Traffic started to clear, and El Gallo slowly rolled forward. They inched by the cause of their thirty-minute delay — the remnants of a small hybrid, its driver side completely smashed in. It looked to have been slammed into the median by an SUV.

  Xochitl crossed herself in silent prayer.

  "That would be unethical," Imogen shrilled, sounding genuinely shocked and bringing Xochitl's attention back to the absurd conversation.

  "Says the woman who kidnapped a newborn from a crime scene," Lucy snapped. "I'm hanging up." Lucy pounded her phone against the dash and threw the broken pieces out the window.