The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (33 page)

"Holy
shit!" Prez added his light to Bob's.

"¡Híjole!" Xochi's eyes grew wide.

Huddled
in the corner, dressed in a hospital gown, was a small creature.

Is that a woman?

Xochitl
couldn't tell. The person had soft features like a female, but her ears were
longer than normal and flopped at either side of her head. A layer of coarse, shaggy
hair covered her arms and bare legs.

Bob's
light followed the contours of her face, and as it passed her eyes, they glowed
amber. "Whoa."

Xochitl
had seen this before with Lucy Lowell's partner. But where Officer Gabe was like
a massive beast, this woman seemed more like a small dog.

The
dog woman tilted her head to the side as if she were trying to make out what
kind of thing Bob and Prez were.

Right
back at ya, sister.

"What's
that?" Prez turned his head, bringing into view the long warehouse corridor.

No, not a warehouse. A prison.

At
the far end of the aisle, a bright light illuminated two male figures standing
in front of another cell, deep in conversation.

"Can
you make out what they're doing?" Xochitl spoke into her mic.

"No,
they're too far." Bob's hand motioned to Prez to press forward. "We'll
take a closer look."

As
Bob and Prez crept down the hallway, Xochitl searched each plexiglass kennel they
passed for her brother. She gasped as she witnessed cell after cell occupied
with dog-like people, but no Miguel.

A
few "people" were neither puppyish like the dog woman nor Werebeast
like Gabe. Still afflicted with canine-like features, these anxious creatures
paced in their cages like agitated, wild wolves.

Hyper, aggressive and potentially dangerous.

Bob's
camera feed showed Prez on point, crouched by one of the last cages near the security
guards. Prez raised a fist, signaling Bob to stop.

"Tango
fifteen feet ahead," Prez said. "Sounds like they're arguing about
whatever's in that cage."

"Copy,"
Bob replied. "Can you make out what they're saying?"

"Just
a minute."

Prez
scooted forward a few feet. Xochi held her breath.

They're gonna make him.

A
short nervous giggle burst from Xochitl. She quickly clasped her hands over her
mouth. The guards remained unaware of Prez.

Xochi
exhaled slowly into a tiny grin.

Big as a house. Quiet as a mouse.

"You
do it." An unfamiliar, pre-pubescent treble pierced through Xochitl's
earpiece.

From
Prez's camera angle, she couldn't ascertain which guard had spoken or determine
what they looked like except that one man was tall and spindly and the other
was shorter and average size.

"I'm
not going in there," a loutish voice replied. "You saw what it did to
Jacobs."

"Gas
it. Then go in."

"Fuck
you. You gas it."

"Weisman
wants this one prepped by shift's end. You know how she is when things don't
get done."

"Shit...Fine."

The
spindly guard pulled a canister out of a pouch attached to his belt and bent
down at the base of the cage. His hand jerked back, then thrust forward.

The
cell filled with fog. An ear-shattering howl bellowed into their mics.

"Ahhh!"
Xochitl and Lefty shrieked. She yanked her earpiece away from her ear.

A
loud thud brought Xochitl's attention back to the computer screen. Something
was throwing itself against the plexiglass of the cell only to ricochet off it
like a rubber ball. Desperate to break free, it growled and bellowed — whipping
its fellow captives into a frenzy.

The
cacophony of barks and howls amplified as they bounced off the walls. The room
was in chaos.

"Shit's
getting crazy back here," Bob hissed over the ruckus.

"Coming
back to you," Prez said.

But
before Prez could move out, the shorter guard spun around and faced him. "Shut
the fuck—"

Without
hesitation, Prez shot tranq darts into both guards, dropping them where they
stood.

"Nice,"
Lefty said.

Prez
advanced on the downed guards, cleared their weapons and approached the
fogged-in kennel.

"Something's
huddled in the corner," Prez said. "Hard to tell but I think it's one
of those Werebeasts."

"The
Were things seem to be calming down back there," Bob said, moving to Prez.

Both
camera feeds were trained on the creature veiled in gaseous smoke and pressed
against the back corner of the wall.

Can't see a pinche thing. Damn pinche
fog.

"Holy
shit!" Bob yelled as the Beast leapt through the air, slammed itself into
the glass and knocked itself out cold.

The
Beast splayed motionless on the floor, and Xochitl could finally see its face.

"Miguel!"

"That's
Miguel?" Lefty asked.

"Get
in there! Get him!" Xochitl shouted at Bob and Prez.

"We
can't." Bob squatted by Were Miguel, analyzing the situation. "We
have to wait for the gas to dissipate."

"I
don't care!" Xochitl shot back.

"Xochi."
Lefty grabbed her arm, but she yanked it away. "Let them do their job.
They'll get him."

Xochitl
gripped the sides of the computer and pleaded into her mic, "Please!"

"We
will, kiddo." Bob's voice was soft. "The fog's already clearing."

Xochi
eased up on the computer, her hands flush with blood and aching. Lefty slumped
against the Humvee.

"Bravo
Team, give me a second to get that door open." Lefty slid the computer
away from Xochitl.

"No
need," Prez came back. "Got this guard's keycard too." Prez put
the card in front of his camera.

"I'm
starting to feel obsolete here," Lefty joked half-heartedly.

"Don't
worry about it, kid. Happens to the best of us," Prez said.

"Hey,
pendejos!" Xochitl yelled. "Could you please get my brother out of
that fucking cage?"

"Sorry,
Xoch." Prez moved to the flat, digital lock embedded in the side of the
cell.

Where's the pinche door?

The
wall looked solid and there were no seams to indicate an entrance existed. But
as Prez swiped the keycard on the lock, half of the front panel of the glass
enclosure slid into the other half, creating a pocket door.

"Cool,"
Lefty said, clearly impressed by the creativity of the design.

Cool, maybe. But the same cabrones that
snatched my brother, doing God knows what to him, created this prison. I just
wanna blow the place up.

"Moving
in." Bob's voice brought Xochi's attention back to Miguel.

Despite
the warm night air, her body shivered and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.
She clenched her jaw and waited as Bob and Prez entered the cell and knelt beside
Miguel. Prez leaned over the boy, and for the first time in nearly three
months, Xochitl looked upon her baby brother. Tears flowed down her face.

¡Madre de Dios!

Miguel
rested peacefully on the ground — once again Xochi's sweet, little
brother. His handsome face and golden skin were smooth and unscarred. Except
for hard, well-developed muscles, which despite his youth made him appear
older, there were no evident Werebeast characteristics.

Lefty
squeezed Xochi's hand as Bob and Prez tended to Miguel.

"Looks
good," Prez said, checking his pulse and pupil dilation.

"Okay.
Let's move," Bob said. The two men grabbed Miguel by the shoulders and
legs. "On three. One...Two...Three."

"Holy
shit. This kid's heavier than he looks." Prez grunted as he and Bob lifted
Miguel's limp body and shuffled him through the opening.

Immediately
sirens blared.

"What
the fuck!" Prez shouted.

"Base,
what's happening?" Vern's voice came over the coms.

"I
don't know, sir. Bob and Prez must have triggered a backup alarm system when
they moved Miguel," Lefty answered.

"The
hell we did!" Prez yelled over the blaring sound and crazed howls of the
pound captives.

"Shut
up and move, Prez!" Bob shouted, throwing Miguel's arm over his shoulder.

Bravo
Team's cameras were shaking like an earthquake as the two men ran side by side
as fast as they could, dragging Miguel down the hall.

"Bravo
Team, we're moving to you," Vern said.

"I
can't take this any more," Xochitl hissed and raced to El Gallo.

"Xochi!"
Lefty called out.

Ignoring
him, Xochitl popped open the trunk, pushed through the interior backing and
pulled out a rolled up red and green striped serape Memo had stashed in a hidden
compartment.

She
unspooled the wool blanket, revealing a Remington 12 gauge shotgun. Although
she knew it would be, Xochi checked to see if the weapon was loaded. She
reached into the cubbyhole again and grabbed a coffee can filled with shells.

"You're
nothing if not predictable, Memo."

"Xochitl,
what are you doing?" Lefty scowled at the shotgun.

"Getting
my brother." Xochitl shoved several extra shells in her cargo pocket.

"Please
stay here." Lefty's eyes darted from her to his computer.

"Just
open the pinche door." Xochitl took off toward the pound.

Through
her earpiece she heard Lefty say, "Shit!"

Xochitl
was fast and made good time getting to the entrance.

The
door flung wide, almost smashing her in the face as the two lab-coated men and
the woman in the biohazard suit ran past her and disappeared into the night.

She
jerked back against the cinder block wall, shaken.

Shit.
That was close.

She
took a few deep breaths, readied her gun and moved quickly down the corridor,
periodically checking her flanks.

"Don't
move," a gruff male voice said.

Xochitl
heard a click and immediately knew a semi-automatic was pointed at the back of
her skull.

She
froze.

"Turn
around slowly," the man instructed. "Hand me that gun."

Scenarios
of how to take her assailant down sped through Xochi's mind.

If
he grabs the gun, kick him in the groin. Or break his arm. Or hit him with it.

She
raised her hands in surrender and turned to her captor — a pimply-faced
man-boy. The scrawny guard's mouth twisted into a half-smirk, and then he dropped
like a rock to the floor. Replacing him was Lefty, his tranq gun aimed straight
ahead.

"Thought
you'd need back up." Lefty holstered his weapon.

"Thanks."
Xochitl grabbed Man Boy's gun, tucking it behind her belt. "Let's go."

Xochitl
and Lefty had just made it to the end of the hall when Bob and Prez staggered
through the west room doors, their bodies sagging under Miguel's weight.

"Little
help here!" Bob grunted out the words.

"Go!
Go! Go!" Vern scrambled down the east corridor, dragging his left leg.

Her
uncle stumbled to the side but recovered quickly. Behind him, Mick sprinted
from a huge, grey Werebeast wearing a shredded blue blouse and black pants, hot
on his heels. The Beast caught Mick by the leg and slammed him to the side of
the wall, knocking him out cold. Mick slid to the floor.

Vern
tripped and fell on his back.

"Shit!"
Lefty yelled.

"Go
help Bob," Xochi said and tore after her uncle.

"Vern!
Get up!" she yelled.

The
grey Beast halted its pursuit and crouched down ready to spring on its prey.

Xochitl's
grip tightened around the Remington.

This
is gonna hurt like a mother.

The
Werebeast leapt into the air. Xochi cocked the shotgun, shouldered it and
fired. The strength of the blast propelled the Were in the opposite direction.
It yelped in agony and slammed to the ground. Xochitl aimed at its head,
silencing it for good.

"Fuck!"

She
dropped the gun. Her arm felt like it was on fire.

"I'm
okay. Vern?"

"I'm
okay." Vern raised his hand. "We need to get Mick."

"I
think he's coming to." Xochitl heard Mick groaning over the coms and ran to
him.

"What
happened?" Mick shook his head and winced in pain, his arm dangling by his
side. "I think my arm's dislocated."

"Can
you get up?" Xochitl asked.