The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (5 page)

"Let me introduce Nicolette Artashesian, my right arm,"
Mr. Soroush said and leaned toward Nicolette, placing a familiar hand on her
tiny waist. "Nicolette, please make sure our Werewolf Whisperer can start
on time." He nodded toward Lucy and Xochitl and then excused himself.

"Creepy old man," Nicolette said before Lucy could be
sure Soroush was out of earshot. A smile played across Nicolette's full lips. "I
know what you're thinking."

Lucy dug through the box of dog toys, pulling out a can of brand
new tennis balls. She tried hard not to think anything.

"He's okay." Nicolette handed Xochitl an envelope of
cash. "But, I wanted to ask you something." She bit her lip. "My
boyfriend came down with...you know. His whole family rejected him, and he's
been living with me for a few months now." She searched Xochitl's face for
sympathy.

"What are you asking?" Xochitl counted the bills in
the envelope, seemingly giving Nicolette only a fraction of her attention until
she was satisfied the entire amount was there.

"He's so...I mean, he looks so...Is he still my boyfriend,
or do I treat him more like, you know, a pet?" Saying it out loud made the
girl looked very vulnerable and suddenly unsure of herself.

Lucy straightened up, changing places with Xochitl who by the
look on her face was letting her imagination get the better of her.

"Before all of this KV business," Lucy said, keeping
her voice low, "would you have wondered if your dog was your pet or your
boyfriend?"

Nicolette's paradigm shifted visibly, and she took a step back,
mortified. "Of course not!"

"I'm sorry. It's no different," Lucy said. "Your
boyfriend, the man he was, is gone. If you want to keep taking care of him, you
have to make that distinction clear in your mind."

Nicolette nodded once, recovering her confident grace.

"Book Stew is setting up for the book signing up there."
She shifted to business mode seamlessly and shuffled through her portfolio. "The
owner brought a couple of crates full of pre-sales for you to sign."
Nicolette pointed to a tall man with Civil War-era sideburns. He stood by a
long table covered with a white tablecloth and decorated with
Book Stew
signage.

Two volunteers fiddled with folding chairs behind the table.

"Book Stew?" Xochitl strode over to the tall man, who
was now testing a number of ink pens on a yellow pad. Lucy followed, untangling
the knot of slip leads Xochitl had thrown at her.

"Book Stew. That's me." The man pointed to the name
tag stuck to his navy T-shirt.

"Hello my name is Stew," Xochitl read out loud. "Okay.
Hello, my name is Xochitl. This is Lucy. Nice to meet you. Can we get started?"
She pointed to the people lining up at the edge of the grass.

"Let's do it now, if you're ready." Stew smiled a
goofy smile at both Xochitl and Lucy.

"Born ready," Lucy said, slipped behind the table,
took a copy of
Hounds, and Ferals, and Werebeasts! Oh, My!
and wrote her
name on the title page, leaving a looping ampersand and room for Xochitl's
name. Xochitl breathed out sharply through her nose, but Lucy could tell she
was pleased.

"You have to write more than your name, you know,"
Xochitl teased.

"What are you gonna write?" Lucy leaned over to peek
at Xochitl's first signed page.

"'Living La Vida Loba'...and you can't steal it."
Xochitl stuck her tongue out at Lucy.

Enjoying the exchange, Book Stew snapped a picture of Lucy and
Xochitl behind the table and typed a few lines into his phone before posting.

"You two are funny. You should have a TV show. I'd watch
it." His grin widened, then he turned and ushered the people at the front
of the line over to Lucy and Xochitl. "Let's get going, people."

Soon the crowd grew large, and Lucy and Xochitl had to work
quickly to keep up with the demand. Hanna's publicity blitzes for the book
usually left Xochitl standing on the sidelines, which Lucy found ridiculous
since she thought the real business of "The Werewolf Whisperer" had
always been Lucy and Xochitl together.

If Hanna could only understand how important Xochi is to my life
now.

All Hanna saw, all most people saw, was Lucy's unique ability to
control dangerous creatures. What they didn't understand, and what Lucy knew
deep in her bones, was that without Xochitl there never would have been a
Werewolf Whisperer at all. Lucy had left that prison broken in too many pieces
to count. Xochitl had picked her up from that hellhole and helped her to find
some kind of path to redemption.

Lucy looked over as her friend joked with a young boy and his
mother who had stepped up from the line to receive a book.

"And the Hound goes, 'ow ow ow owooooooo!'" Xochitl
made a wild wolf sound that drew stares. The boy giggled, and his mother shook
Xochitl's hand gratefully.

"It's just been so hard since his sister turned," the
woman explained. "Thanks for making him laugh."

The hour flew by as Lucy fully involved herself in answering
individual questions and spending time talking to people, while she signed
books and passed out information about the new and improved Hanna's Rescue and
Rehabilitation up in Empyrean.

Xochitl squealed all of a sudden and almost knocked over the
table, trying to hug an older man in a dark suit who had come over during a
lull.

"Bob, I'll be. It's been almost two years. How the hell
have you been?" Xochitl stood on her tippy toes and threw her arms around
Bob's neck. He laughed and returned the hug, patting her back.

"You look great, kiddo! Time on the road has done you good,"
Bob said, adjusting his suit jacket.

"What are you doing here?" Xochitl asked. "Are
you on the job?"

"Just a little security for the Expo as a favor to Mr. Soroush.
He hires my firm for big jobs on a regular basis. Used to be in and out of the
country. Not anymore, of course. But, we've been busy." Bob's eyes caught
a movement, and he turned, almost unnoticeably shielding Xochitl's body.

"Paranoid much?" Xochitl teased. "You look like
you haven't slept in a week, Bob. When did you stop shaving?" Xochitl
hesitated. "Oh."

Lucy looked up to see Bob's hand fly to his right cheek. A red
scar ran along his jawline and onto his neck. He rubbed his face and nodded
slightly.

"It's been a bear lately, kiddo. But we can talk more
later." At that moment Bob's phone buzzed. "Excuse me."

He stepped to the side of the table, and Xochitl returned to her
seat, almost bouncing.

"That's my papa's buddy Bob," she explained to Lucy. "He
helped with Miguel."

Lucy acknowledged remembering the story with a nod. "Can't
wait to hear his side. Especially about the tattoo."

Xochitl barked a short laugh. "He wasn't there for that,"
she said, her hand involuntarily cupping her
La
Güera
tattoo, though it was hidden by her thin
sweater.

"Xoch, I have to run." Bob leaned over the table for a
second. "Someone wanted to make an early exit and got parked in. Something
about a valet throwing a fit." He waved at Lucy. "Sorry. We'll have
to meet later."

"Later," Lucy agreed and shot Xochitl a look. "I
think you broke the valet."

"Some people are so sensitive," Xochitl lisped and
batted her eyelashes. Lucy laughed and got back to work.

Lucy's Hound training class was scheduled to close the event,
and when Nicolette made the announcement everyone gathered in the formal garden
with great anticipation. Most of the guests had partaken of the plethora of
food and drink offered throughout the party, had mingled with all the business
prospects they'd come to schmooze and had checked out all the booths. The
majority gathered in the formal garden under outdoor heaters, squeezing around
the perimeter of a roped-off square. They waited for Lucy to work her magic.
The band had stopped playing, and Lucy could see them packing up their
instruments in the courtyard. The crowd went silent.

Lucy shrugged off her bomber jacket, though it had grown a
little chilly, and stepped onto the grass.

"Do I have any students here today?" Lucy called out
and clapped her hands. A small group of people walked past the ropes and into
the middle of the grass area.

The group of about ten people had their Hounds on leashes; an
additional four let their Hounds go off-leash. These Hounds were all young men
and women from the local neighborhood.

Hanna had been marketing to high schools with Were problems
lately, finding parents willing and able to pay for the luxury of a well-behaved
Were child.

Lucy and Xochitl just wanted to help people; and when Hanna had
sent them on the latest tour through Beverly Hills, they couldn't really see a
reason to turn it down. They'd spent the last week in Beverly Hills and worked
three jobs a day, leading up to the Greystone event. All of the clients had
been Hounds — with the exception of Jimmy Stanton. All the trainings had
been successful — with the exception of Jimmy Stanton.

"Please, release your Hounds." As Lucy had
anticipated, the corny line got a titter from the audience. She didn't have to
look at Xochitl to know her eyes were rolling.

The Hounds all stood, politely waiting for Lucy's command.

"Everybody sit!" Lucy gestured with her hand and all
the Hounds sat. From the sideline, Xochitl clicked the training clicker,
reminding every Hound parent to get out theirs from pockets, purses and fanny
packs. The random clicks that followed amused the audience.

"Treat your Hound," Lucy suggested. A row of Hound
parents treated their seated Hound with anything from bacon to cheese to bits
of hotdog, which they had pulled out from little plastic baggies along with the
training clicker. Lucy was happy to see so large a group follow directions so
perfectly.

"As you can see, this is like the ballet. But if the
ballerina got a cookie after every
plié
..." The audience laughed on cue. "Soon no more tutu,"
Lucy finished with a smirk.

"What you want is to start with the treats and then, little
by little, get rid of the treats."

"Treat inflation." She pointed to a Hound girl in
bright green pants and a pretty cream colored sweater.

"Come!" Lucy said, nodding to the Hound parent to let
her off-leash.

The Hound girl ran over to Lucy eagerly.

"This is Courtney," Lucy introduced the young Hound.

The crowd applauded, causing the Hound girl to shift nervously.

"Now sit," Lucy said firmly. The Hound sat.

"And around." Lucy waved her hand in a circle, and
Courtney Hound spun around.

"Down." Lucy pointed her index finger at the ground. The
Hound stretched out on her belly, anticipating the next trick.

"Roll over."

On Lucy's prompt, the Hound girl rolled over once and then
bounced up.

"Sit." Lucy gestured, pulled a piece of jerky from her
small, leather hip pouch and flipped the treat into the air for the Hound girl
to catch.

"Look at that," Lucy addressed the crowd, "six
tricks for one treat."

The audience applauded enthusiastically. Lucy sent the Hound
girl back to her parents.

"Just a thought parents, though it looks great, creams or
whites are not good colors to dress your Hound in. You don't want to worry
about grass stains or mud. Just let them be comfortable." The Hound girl's
mother looked a little flustered but nodded and threw her hands up in a
good-natured gesture of agreement.

"Now, let's get to why we are really here. Tricks are a
good way to bond with your Hounds, but you're really here because you want your
Hound to be a happy, well-balanced part of your family."

"So, let's talk about socializing." Lucy signaled for
the pet parents to bring all of their Hounds to the circle.

Xochitl joined them, handing Lucy a red volleyball.

"So, Hanna just texted me," Xochitl hissed. "There's
gonna be media." She handed Lucy the ball. "Apparently that annoying
reporter Enrique Baldwin is here with his team. They've been taking B roll of
the event. They want to shoot the game and interview you."

"What do you think?" Lucy felt a bit taken aback.

Xochitl considered briefly. "Well, Hanna sure seemed
excited about it."

"Whatevs. Tell the news guy to come up when they're
playing. I can talk then." Lucy crossed into the pack of Hounds, telling
the Hound parents to follow Xochitl back to the perimeter.

The
Hounds circled Lucy happily, waiting for the go ahead to play.

In
a lot of ways, for the past two years, Lucy had thought Hounds were just like
her dogs at home, training them accordingly, but lately she had started to
notice that with intense training and focused attention Hounds could develop
minds superior to dogs. These pampered Beverly Hills Hounds, she'd noted over
the last week, picked up commands fast and were able to predict certain events,
like knowing that Lucy had gathered them for a game. She attributed their rapid
improvement to the intense, focused time their Hound parents had been spending
with them after Lucy's in-home training, but she couldn't be sure.