The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (11 page)

Returning
home, Lucy handed the dogs off to the ranch hands and marched into her mother's
kitchen. She could smell Mama's roast chicken and biscuits from the yard.

Ellie's
cozy kitchen was drenched in sunlight and felt warm despite the cool April
winds whistling through the trees. Framed posters of dog breeds and colorful
charts describing dog body language decorated the adobe brick kitchen walls.
Lucy noticed a new doggie eye chart and laughed as she caught a glimpse of the
tiny teddy bear and foxtails on the bottom line.

"Doc
Howard brought that poster over with the Bordetella vaccines," Hanna said,
acknowledging Lucy's chuckle.

"Hanna!"
Lucy cried out, pulling off her wet and muddy boots by the door.

"Doc
Howard's such a nice man," Ellie chimed in. "Always a good friend to
the R'n'R."

"Yes,
he is," Hanna agreed. She'd kicked back at the oak kitchen table, munching
on a kale and quinoa salad while watching Ellie drizzle drippings over the
chicken before shoving it back into the oven.

"Hey,
babe!" Hanna jumped from her chair and hugged the slightly taller Lucy fiercely.
A second mother to Lucy, Hanna had an unflappable ease about her that made Lucy
feel safe.

"Mama
said you'd be back in a couple of days." Lucy pulled back from the hug.

"Well,
dealing with the rescues took a little longer than I thought." Hanna shook
her impressive ink black curls.

While
the same age as Lucy's mother, Hanna looked ageless. Her face was virtually
un-lined, and her mane of hair un-dyed. Red-brown Mehndi snaked from her hands
up both arms, the henna stains disappearing under her embroidered Indian kurti.
Washed-out denims and worn alligator cowboy boots completed Hanna's uniform.
Always a little exotic for Empyrean, Hanna was nonetheless accepted and even
looked up to in the small town.

"Your
mama says they've been giving you a hard time down there in L.A."
Returning to her chair, Hanna handed Lucy the celery stick from her glass of
green vita-drink and took a gulp.

"Can't
say it hasn't sucked." Lucy chomped down on the stalk.

Sliding
onto the bench between the table and the wall, Lucy exhaled slowly. Hanna would
want details, so she laid out the details of that terrible night as best she could
recall, pausing to gather her thoughts when raw emotion threatened to take
over. Ellie and Hanna listened intently.

"And
it seemed that Gabe stopped when you gave him the verbal command?" Hanna
leaned back in her chair. "Just like the dogs."

"I
can't be sure. I told him to stop, and he did." Lucy chewed on a warm
bacon biscuit. "Could've been a coincidence."

"But
this Xochitl girl didn't think it was a coincidence," Hanna suggested.

Ellie
rose from the kitchen table, put on her crochet oven mitts and pulled the
broiling pan from the oven. The roast chicken scent wafted through the kitchen,
rousing the house dogs from their naps. Many dog claws clicked on the hardwood
floor as the pack came to investigate.

"She
called me a bruja." Lucy fidgeted with her napkin. "We were both in
shock. I don't think she remembers what she saw. Hell, the other officers
pretended they saw nothing."

"Did
they?" Hanna pressed.

"They...pretty
much ignored me afterwards." Lucy accepted the platter with the chicken
from Ellie and began carving the bird into three portions. "But things got
really heated. And then I got suspended." Lucy still couldn't believe it.

"I
drove Xochitl home," Lucy said. "But then there was the fire. She was
totally shut down when her friend picked her up. Well, after she called me a
bunch of bad names. I think Captain Burch might look into witness protection
for her, but I don't know if she'll reach out now. She feels totally betrayed."

Ellie
stopped short and stared into her daughter's eyes. Lucy sank down on the bench,
embarrassed by her mother's disapproving gaze; prickly shame colored her cheeks
before Ellie even said one word.

"Lucille
Elizabeth Lowell, I did not raise a coward. You will help that young woman. She
risked a lot for you." Ellie's abrupt words had a finality to them that
Lucy recognized as the end of any argument she'd ever had with her mother.
Hanna reached for the bowl of green beans. She too knew that tone. Ellie had
spoken.

Shortly
after midnight, Lucy, once more in uniform, headed back to Los Angeles.

Chapter 7

Socialization
is important in the early stages of the Hound and Hound parent relationship.
You might want to keep your Hound at home, keep your Hound safe from harm and
prying eyes. It is normal to feel protective of your Hound and hesitant about
your ability to control your Hound in public. But you must remember that
isolation only breeds resentment and insecurity in your furry friend.

Allow
your Hound the freedom to walk with you, on-leash, to secure areas like
Hound-friendly coffee shops and retail stores. Check out any Dog Park After
Dark programs. Many cities allow Hound free-play after sunset.

Enroll
your Hound in a "new Hound" class at your local pet store or visit
our website for the various Werewolf Whisperer Workshops available:
www.werewolfwhisperer.com
.

If you are able, it
is often a good idea to bring a second Hound into the family, so your Hounds
can entertain each other when you are at work. But no matter how large your
pack, you must remember that you have to be the alpha at all times.

-excerpt from
Hounds, and Ferals, and Werebeasts! Oh, My!
by Lucy Lowell "
The Werewolf
Whisperer
"

El
Gallo roared west, following Bob's black Humvee on the 101 Freeway toward
Calabasas. Xochitl drove as Lucy texted Hanna about their unscheduled detour.
They were twenty minutes in on the hour-long drive, and the sun was at the
point on the horizon that made visibility difficult.

Squinting
as the blinding rays shone through the windshield, Xochitl pulled her visor
down and angled it to block the sun. "I can't see a thing," she
mumbled.

"Hanna
says 'Make it snappy,'" Lucy read off her cell phone, then flipped it shut
and stuffed it in her front pocket.

"Yes,
ma'am. We'll be right quick, ma'am," Xochitl drawled. "She's a peach."

"Thought
you'd like that." Lucy sounded amused. Her phone buzzed, and she groaned.

Xochi
glanced at her friend, who had pulled her cell out once more and checked the
Caller ID.

"My
damn shrink again." Ignoring the call, Lucy tossed the phone on the dash
and began tuning through the stations.

"You
know, you're gonna have to talk to her some time," Xochitl said, looking
down at the country radio station Lucy was about to select. "Um...no. Pick
another one." Xochi reached for the dial.

Lucy
swatted her hand away. "Eyes on the road, hands at ten and two." She
continued her search for something they could agree on.

Their
road music war had begun one night on the way back from Bakersfield after a
particularly strenuous workshop series. It had nearly come to blows.

"How
come every station in L.A. plays the same Red Hot Chili Peppers song over and
over?" Lucy gave a hard twist on the tuner knob. "Patsy Cline, Johnny
Cash, now that's music."

Xochi
waved her hand in a big arcing motion over the dash. "You need to expand
your horizons."

"I'm
surprised a tech junky like you hasn't put a better radio in this car."
Lucy smirked. "It's mostly static on this thing."

"¡Cállate!"
Xochitl gasped. "That's blasphemy."

She
patted El Gallo's dashboard. "Don't you worry, baby. No lo dijo en
serio...Mean ol' Lucy." Xochi stuck her tongue out at her friend.

"Fine."
Lucy tried to tune to the one station they both could tolerate.

A
soft, smooth voice came over the radio. "This is Nancy Fleming and you are
listening to
Fleming's Beltway Report
on KNUZ 88.3 FM."

"Nice."
Xochitl sat up straighter in her seat as if it would help her listen better.

"...If
you are just tuning in, our topic of discussion this evening concerns the
rumors that the California Kyon Virus quarantine will be lifted soon. My guest
is political pundit and now Co-Founder of the Anti-Werebeast Commission or AWC,
Rebecca Richards," Nancy Fleming said with more of a breathy whisper than
an announcer's voice. "In addition to the ACLU's ongoing fight for Were
rights," she continued, "the country now faces imminent economic
disaster predicated upon keeping California isolated due to the Werebeast
catastrophe. Some suggest it is now time for the country to embrace California's
resilience and ability to thrive under extreme circumstances. Spearheaded by
Representative Adam Gerard, a bill is being put forth before Congress to
reincorporate California. How do you respond?"

"Myself
and Reverend Dr. David Barns believe in the complete eradication of the
Werebeast population, including those Weres referred to as Ferals and Hounds."

"Ugh,
I saw this puta spouting this shit two years ago on TV." Xochitl groaned.

"Shh..."
Lucy put her hand up and leaned in closer to the radio.

"Some
say that Ferals and Hounds are no threat and should be granted rights under the
Constitution of the United States of America just as other 'races' have been in
the past." Nancy played devil's advocate.

"Call
them what you will, but werewolves are demons and an affront to God,"
Rebecca Richards replied. "The AWC's Co-Founder, Reverend Dr. Barns, a
learned theologian, would attest to their evil nature. Werewolves are the
embodiment of Original Sin."

"And?"
Nancy Fleming coaxed her guest.

"And,"
Rebecca Richards continued, her voice going up in pitch. "If indeed
California's borders are reopened, the American people should not have to put
their tax dollars toward the care and education of these monsters. At this very
moment, my colleague is protesting against such education at the Greystone
Mansion in Los Angeles where that werewolf harlot is conducting a workshop."

"¡Híjole!"
Xochitl turned up the volume on the radio.

"You
are referring to Lucy Lowell, The Werewolf Whisperer?" Nancy asked in
clarification for her audience. "We actually have a live feed from the
Greystone Mansion where
UR.LA
's
Enrique Baldwin is reporting...Hello, Enrique."

"Hello,
Nancy!" Enrique Baldwin's shouted over what sounded like chanting in the
background.

"I
thought the protesting was done?" Xochitl turned to Lucy, who looked
concerned as she leaned against the dashboard, intently listening to the news
reporter.

"Nancy?
Are you there?" Enrique shouted again.

"Yes,
Enrique, I'm here," Nancy replied. "It's quite loud where you are.
Can you tell us what is happening?"

"Yes,
Nancy," Enrique Baldwin said excitedly. "But first, may I say, it is
such a pleasure to be on your show today."

"What
a pendejo." Xochitl shook her head.

"Shhh..."
Lucy half-raised her hand to shut Xochi up.

"That's
nice," Nancy Fleming replied to Enrique. She asked again, "So, what
can you tell us Enrique?"

"Right,"
Enrique said, in what Xochitl thought was as fake a professional voice as a "reporter"
could have. "What you hear behind me are the remnants of a violent protest
that broke out at the Greystone Mansion earlier today—"

"Violent!"
Xochitl yelled.

"Shush!"
Lucy chided Xochitl.

"Okay.
¡Híjole!" Xochitl put her hand up in surrender.

"...Lucy
Lowell, The Werewolf Whisperer and her partner, Xochitl Magaña, fled the scene
after their workshop was overrun by protestors against Were rights. I was
actually interviewing Ms. Lowell when the protest turned violent."

"Was
anyone hurt, Enrique?" Nancy asked.

"Not
seriously, but I interviewed one protestor, a Dan Walters, who said he was run
over by The Werewolf Whisperer's car..."

"What!"
Xochi yelled louder.

"...Said
it wasn't the first time he'd been injured by The Werewolf Whisperer and her
companion," Enrique continued.

"Companion!
Why that fat cabrón!" Xochitl's anger was reaching its tipping point. "If
I ever get my hands on that pinche choncho Dan, I'll..." Xochi swatted the
air as if she were backhanding Fat Dan in the face.

"...See,
Nancy." Rebecca Richards interrupted the interview with Enrique Baldwin. "This
is exactly what we are talking about. Werewolves and the charlatan Werewolf
Whisperer by their very nature are evil and dangerous. The truth is, Lucy
Lowell has been covering up Were crimes for years. My colleague—"

"Enough."
Lucy shut the radio off.

"Well,
chalk another one up in the win column," Xochi grumbled. "If Hanna
keeps sending us to these 'public relations' events, we're gonna wind up being
burned at the stake."

"It's
not Hanna's fault." Lucy sighed.

"Not
directly. But it's our asses on the line out there." Xochitl put her hand
up to Lucy. "She uses this book tour to drum up business and leaves you,
us, vulnerable to crap like that." Xochitl pointed to the radio. "Hanna's
your Anita, Luce."

"No
she isn't!" Lucy shouted. "Hanna's not a drunk. You don't know what
you're talking about."

Startled
by Lucy's uncharacteristic outburst, Xochi turned her attention back to the
road.

"That's
not what I meant," she backtracked in an attempt to smooth things over. "I
mean she's a manipulator, a user."

"Oh,
that's so much better." Lucy crossed her arms and stared out the window.

"It's
how I see it, Luce," Xochitl said calmly.

"She's
my family." Lucy seemed to catch on her words as she leaned her head
against the passenger window. "You of all people should understand."

"I
get it." Xochitl reached over and patted Lucy on the shoulder. "I
do...Doesn't mean she's not manipulating you."

Xochitl's
last words hung heavy in the space between her and Lucy. While Xochi didn't want
to hurt her friend's feelings, she had a hard time refraining from expressing
her misgivings about Hanna.

"I'll
lay off the subject for a while." Xochitl sighed.

"I'd
appreciate it," Lucy said bluntly.

"Well,
at least Punk Girl Megan and Were Boy Troy like us," Xochitl said, trying
to lighten the mood.

"Ugh,
Troy's tattoos," Lucy groaned.

"I
know, right. They looked like he did them himself." Xochitl glanced at
Lucy. "Do I really look that pissed off?"

"Yes,"
Lucy stated matter-of-factly, and the two women burst out laughing.

"Well,
you looked like a MILF with a Mohawk!" Xochitl roared, shoving Lucy's arm.

"Yuck
and ow." Lucy, still in hysterics, rubbed her arm.

"Ow,
my stomach." Xochitl leaned against the steering wheel and clutched her
belly.

"Hands!"
Lucy laugh-shouted, and Xochitl tried to calm her breathing so she could
straighten up and drive safely.

Xochitl
caught her breath, and her thoughts turned from Were Boy Troy to Travis and
then to Miguel. The idea that her brother could change permanently unnerved
her.

Lucy
appeared deep in thought.

Xochi
broke the silence. "So, whaddya make of this Kyon Knows?"

"Not
sure," Lucy replied but added nothing further.

Expecting
more of an answer, Xochitl glanced at Lucy who was now resting her head on the
back of the seat with her eyes closed.

"Judging
from the website," Xochi continued, "he or she seems loco to me. I
didn't go through too much of it, but there were equations and formulas, kinda
like the ones I told you about. You know, when I broke Miguel outta that pound."
Xochitl snapped her fingers. "Are you even listening?"

Lucy
popped an eye open. "I'm thinking."

"Well,
wanna share?" Xochi invariably felt annoyed when Lucy wouldn't share what
she was thinking right away. Xochitl had always been one for talking out the
problem rather than contemplating it silently for hours like Lucy was prone to
do.

Lucy
sat up in her seat. "The not-a-virus idea has me puzzled."

"Yeah,
the fact that it gels with Bob's findings has me wondering if we're looking at
this Were thing all wrong," Xochi said.

Up
ahead, Bob pulled into the right lane. Xochitl checked to see it was clear
before doing the same.

"Do
you mean that kid back at the Hamlet?" Lucy asked.

"Well,
yeah. How come Were Boy Troy can talk if he's more Hound than Feral? And how
come Jimmy, a Feral, can't?"

"That
we know of," Lucy said.

"Huh?"
Xochitl eyed Lucy.

"We
never heard him speak, but that doesn't mean he can't," Lucy explained. "But
something else is definitely at play here."

"You
mean if it's not a virus?" Xochitl asked, noticing the sign indicating
another half mile to the Parkway Calabasas exit.

"That,
but it could also be how the Hound or Feral is treated in their respective
environments," Lucy said. "I saw that a lot with the rescues my mama..."
Lucy's voice caught at the mention of her mother.