The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (25 page)

Chapter 17

Are you or someone close to you a victim
of a Were attack?

Are you grieving for a loved one?

Are you in need of support?

You are not alone.

WAAGS

Were Attacks Anonymous for Grievers &
Survivors

provides a safe, anonymous environment
for emotional,

educational and social support

for individuals learning to cope with a
Were attack.

Meetings are the first Monday of every
month.

7-8:30 P.M.

St. Francis of Assisi Catholic Church

Fellowship Hall

Visit our website for more information,

including directions to our meeting
place:

www.WAAGS.org

El
Gallo waited for them under the Vincent Thomas Bridge.

"Perro
Chino is not getting into my ride until he towels off," Xochitl said, shaking
out her own rain-soaked hair.

Both
wet and freezing, Lucy already fantasized about snuggling into the flame mobile's
warm lambskin bench covers. She'd turn on some nice, soothing music, drive to a
nice, close motel, get some nice food, some nice sleep and decide what to do
with Kai in the morning.

A
grey pickup truck sped toward them, flashing its brights. The excruciating
screech of electric guitars and a pounding, insistent bass blasted through the
night. Alarms went off in Lucy's head.

"Run!"
she yelled out, but Xochitl and Kai were already in motion. They raced toward
El Gallo and his trunk full of guns.

Squealing
tires and burning rubber, the grey truck skidded to a halt under the bridge,
cutting them off and blocking El Gallo.

The
truck was an older model, primer colored with
Vigi
Boys
spray-painted
on the side.

"You
had to ask who the Vigi Boys are," Lucy said, tense and alert.

The
loud death metal continued to roar from enormous speakers pointing out of the
pickup's sliding rear window. The singer's deep, gravelly voice was mostly
incomprehensible, but Lucy thought she heard words like "judgment," "blood,"
"salvation" and "tears."

When
the truck stopped, the brights stayed on and the stereo continued to bray. The
driver planned on keeping the engine running it seemed.

"What
d'ya want?" Lucy shouted using her best authoritative cop voice.

Two
men jumped from the bed of the truck. They were medium height, of compact build
and carried bats. Both men wore black ski masks, dark pants and muscle shirts
that exposed multiple tattoos on their overdeveloped arms and shoulders. Lucy
noticed one wore cowboy boots, the other high-lace black and white boxing
shoes.

"Werewolf
whore!" the man in the cowboy boots bellowed over the shattering death
metal. His voice sounded strained and without resonance, as if damaged from
prolonged screaming.

"We
take Werewolf whore and friend and pet!" the man in the boxing shoes added
in a vaguely Middle Eastern accent. He spat on the ground and smashed his fist
into his open hand, obviously attempting to come across as scary and tough.

It
worked.

"You're
making a mistake." Lucy tried to stall, pulling Mac's baton from her belt
and putting herself in front of Kai.

A
severe look cast over her face, Xochitl closed in, her curved Karambit knives
held tight to her body, her knees bent, ready to launch. "This is gonna be
fun."

A
third figure broke from the passenger side of the pickup. He was much taller
and skinnier than the other two. He wore a black leather duster and a black
motorcycle helmet sprouting a spiky red Mohawk. Instead of a bat, he carried a
long lead pipe.

"Get
the fuck outta here," Xochitl yelled.

"You
can't tell us what to do!" Motorcycle Mohawk Man sounded catty and
spiteful. The turn of phrase made Lucy think he was young, maybe college age.

"Am
I supposed to laugh myself to death?" Xochitl shouted rashly and took an
aggressive step toward the tall man in the ridiculous outfit.

The
man stepped back into an exaggerated fighting stance and raised the lead pipe
high.

"Unclean.
Black devil Hound dies!" A decidedly young voice cracked, sounding more
like the boxer than the other two. A fourth figure climbed from the driver's
side of the cab and onto the roof of the truck.

"Are
you the leader?" Lucy tried to stall again. Obviously the youngest,
judging by his slight build and skater hoodie, his face was covered with a long
black and white scarf, which he held to the side to talk. Lucy could make out a
little mousey mustache and a pathetic Van Dyke.

"We
are Vigi Boys!" he shouted and stretched out his arms as if to embrace the
night. A machete gleamed in his right hand. He pointed it up, then slashed down
through the air and shouted, "Kill unclean dogs!"

"She's
right, this's gonna be fun. Take the blonde. I'll take the redhead."
Cowboy Boots came at Lucy, his bat poised.

She
stepped aside and pivoted her body to face his back. The momentum of swinging
the bat carried him past her as she'd anticipated, but he adjusted to her move.
He jammed the bat back sharply, cracking her in the ribs. Pain bent Lucy's body
in half, but she spun the baton up by the side-handle and connected with her
assailant's face before he could bring the bat down on her.

She
kicked the side of his knee with the hard sole of her boot. There was a crunch,
and his leg crumpled inward.

Wasting
no time, she jumped behind him and, catching his throat with the length of her
baton, grabbed the stick from the other end and strangled the air out of him.
For a moment, she had the upper hand and could glance at the others.

An
unbelievably fast Kai dropped the boxer with a resounding flying spin kick to
the temple. The man crumpled to the ground, motionless. Kai let out a
triumphant howl.

Xochitl
fought in such close range with Motorcycle Mohawk Man that he was no longer
able to use the lead pipe. But he must have caught her at least once because
one of her arms hung limply. Her other hand led a Karambit knife in wild figure
eights, slashing and ripping at the man's exposed neck. He hauled the lead pipe
back, exposing his neck further, and plunged the weapon squarely into Xochitl's
chest. She fell backward on the ground. He stumbled forward, blood streaming
onto the black leather of his coat.

Lucy
loosened the grip on her baton, feeling her assailant starting to slack. But
she had misjudged because he straightened with enormous power, ran backward and
nearly smashed Lucy between himself and the open tailgate of the Vigi Boys'
pickup truck. She let go of him and the baton in time to avoid impact and
dropped to the ground.

No
longer carrying his bat, the man didn't hesitate to kick her in the side. The
sharp point of his boot buried itself deep in her oblique muscle, the acute
pain blurring her vision.

Barely
able to breathe, she pawed at the ground with her open hand, hoping to grab her
baton but finding only sand.

The
man was on top of her in an instant. He grunted and ferociously grabbed at her
crotch with both of his hands as if trying to rip through the material of her sweatpants.
White-hot anger rushed through Lucy, and she pushed her body up against him
with a sharp thrust. She brought her fist against the side of his head, causing
it to swivel to his opposite shoulder. Lucy threw the sand she was still
holding in the closed fist of her free hand into his face. He pulled back,
involuntarily clawing at his ski mask as he tried to clean the grit from his
eyes.

Her
leg freed now, Lucy brought her knee up into his groin with all the force she
could muster. He screamed like an animal, rolled to the side, grabbed himself
and heaved.

Lucy
jumped to her feet and grabbed the bat lying on the ground. In the blink of an
eye, she saw Kai dancing around Motorcycle Mohawk Man, delivering unanswerable
blows to any exposed areas. Kai pulled tendrils of the ridiculous fake Mohawk
attached to the man's helmet, yanking him off balance.

Xochitl
was now locked in a blur of flashing blades with Machete Hoodie Boy. She was
fast with her one good hand. She twisted her wrist and made the blade dance up
her attacker's arm in tight circular motions. His sleeve was already shredded
and covered with splotches of blood.

Before
the tide could turn again, Lucy picked up Cowboy Boots' bat and delivered a
solid swing down onto his kneecaps. The impact was devastating, and he screamed
unintelligible profanities at her. She bent down, rolled him over, and swiftly
restrained him with the zip ties from her utility belt.

The
Vigi Boys' vile death metal still roared, now spewing an earsplitting but clear
chorus: "Annihilate the Kyon Plague!" over and over and over.

Following
a perverse impulse, Lucy stood tall, shook her head from side to side and let
out a fierce wail. It felt good, luxuriant even, to let her voice play through
the chaos.

Kai
answered with a howl of his own, ripped Motorcycle Mohawk Man's helmet off and
brought it against the back of his head with a loud crunch. For a second Kai's
opponent wavered, his lips curled back from his large buckteeth and his giant,
light eyes grew wide with shock. He fell forward.

Xochitl
had Machete Hoodie Boy down on the ground now, holding his blade to his throat.

"Stop
playing with the little douche bag," Lucy called to her.

Xochitl
looked up as if she didn't comprehend the words, still lost in battle madness.

"You
done good, chica," Lucy said to Xochitl, then whistled for Kai, who was
riffling through his downed prey's pockets. Kai came running with the energy
and zeal of ten puppies.

"Help
Xochitl," Lucy told Kai and scooted Xochi out of the way. Lucy knelt down
next to Machete Hoodie Boy. His hoodie was shredded, blood flowing from multiple
deep cuts on his arms, which just flopped on the ground next to him.

"She
shredded you up good," Lucy said with a nasty little laugh.

Kai
helped Xochitl to her feet.

"Hog
tie the SOBs, Xoch. There's still rope in El Gallo and more zip ties if you
want," Lucy said, looking up and nodding toward the Vigi Boys' pickup. "And
turn that horrible racket off. Bloody awful!"

Putting
her attention on the gang's noxious little leader, Lucy ripped the black and
white scarf off his face. In the shadows and covered in grime and blood, he
still struck her as having traditionally attractive features. His shaggy dark
hair curled past his shoulders. His skin was creamy pale, contrasting bushy
eyebrows and large dark eyes. He was young, she had assessed correctly. His paltry
facial hair was so sparse she guessed the boy could be no older than eighteen.
His full lips quivered with mumbled words she couldn't understand.

"Why?"
she asked, knowing there would be no answer.

Removing
the scarf exposed his neck, and Lucy spotted odd shapes under the material of
his zippered hoodie. She put one knee on his chest and leaned in.

Slowly
she zipped the pull-tab away from his neck and down. On his bloodstained white
T-shirt lay a row of two dozen or so long, curved shapes tightly strung
together on a silver chain. Some looked dark and opaque, some white. Most
looked sharp. Lucy gingerly picked the necklace up and examined it. The teen
took the opportunity to wiggle, but she ground her knee down into his chest. He
fought to catch his breath but otherwise held still.

"Claws,"
she whispered, "and teeth." She dropped the necklace as if it had
burned her and looked into the young man's dark eyes, wanting to hurt him.

"These
are too small to be from Werebeasts. You took trophies from Hounds." It
was a statement, and he didn't deny it. Instead he smiled weakly.

"Proof.
I kill unclean dogs. For my father. I kill them all."

Lucy's
anger flamed hot, and she could hear her own blood coursing in her ears. Before
she could think, she had crammed his scarf deep down into his throat.

"If
I ever see you again, I will kill you. If I ever hear of the Vigi Boys again, I
will kill your family." The words came out as a guttural growl.

"Hey,
Luce." Xochitl had walked up next to them without Lucy noticing. She
sounded calm and even in contrast to Lucy. "It's enough. Let's just get
out of here." She put a hand on Lucy's shoulder.

"He
took trophies, Xoch." Lucy stood up, running both hands over her moist
eyes and through her hair.

Without
a word, Xochitl ripped the horrible necklace off the young man.

"Get
Kai into El Gallo. I'm taking care of this," Xochitl said, yanked the
scarf out of the teen's mouth roughly and slapped his face twice, letting her
rings cut into his cheekbones.

Lucy
stood still, a part of her wanting to kill him more than anything, another part
fighting the waves of despair that were crashing through her.