The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) Read online

  "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.

  With two clear gestures she divided the Hounds into teams, astonishing the onlookers. She threw the ball up in the air and called out, "Play Ball!" Then all she had to do was get out of the way.

  The Hounds played with abandon. Tirelessly they chased the ball, going round and round the grass. There was no goal, no way to keep score. The game was mostly an intense game of keep away, though it was clear that the Hounds worked in teams. The audience seemed delighted, hanging on every step and wiggle of the exhibition game and cheering for every move.

  Lucy noticed Xochitl waving her arms and pointing at a dark haired man with a mic and a crew. Enrique Baldwin. Lucy knew him from the local news, but thought he looked even shorter in person.

  Baldwin stepped up to Lucy and shook her hand before she had a chance to say anything.

  "So nice to meet you. Can I call you Lucy?" Baldwin wasted no time. "We're all set up. We'll be going live in a sec, so watch what you say."

  Lucy took a step back and momentarily considered just bolting.

  The red light blinked on the camera, and Baldwin flashed his trademark smile.

  "Yes, Cathy, hello to you in the studio." He paused for a second, listening, and then continued. "We are here at the beautiful Greystone Mansion in Beverly Hills for the Beverly Hills Chamber of Commerce's special Family and Wellness Expo." He nodded, listening again.

  "We do have a very special treat." He waved his hand toward Lucy who just stood still and smiled stiffly, hoping it would be over soon.

  "Meet the silver lining in our werewolf apocalypse, Lucy Lowell, The Werewolf Whisperer." He glanced at Lucy. "So, Lucy what are we looking at here?"

  Lucy froze for a moment and watched the playing Hounds.

  "These are...um...Hounds. Playing. A game." She could see Xochitl jumping up and down behind the camera, making a strangulation gesture. Lucy searched Enrique Baldwin's face, finding the total absence of a personality in his eyes. She took a deep breath.

  "We trained these Hounds over the last week. They have learned to be social and can be taken out in public without any problem."

  "Would you say you've trained the Hounds or the Hound parents?" He surprised her with the astuteness of his question, but then she spotted his producer standing next to the camera, waving a small tablet with the question written on it in bold block letters.

  "I'd say both. It takes total commitment but as we like to say, 'Happy families have happy Hounds.'" She forced a smile she knew must have looked waxen and bizarre but couldn't stop herself.

  She turned away from Baldwin and called the Hounds, ending the game. They ran to her and lined up in a row, each waiting to be thrown a treat before being dismissed. Applause ran through the crowd.

  "And there you have it. Enrique Baldwin reporting from Beverly Hills." He smiled his plastic smile. "Back to you in the studio, Cathy." He waved off his camera crew.

  "That ought to do it," Enrique said and disappeared into the crowd for testimonial interviews.

  Lucy took a very small bow and made her way back to the table where Xochitl waited with the box of dog toys.

  "You were great!" Nicolette sounded out of breath as she sprinted up to them in her impossibly high heels. "But you should get out of here."

  Lucy and Xochitl looked at her, puzzled.

  "Why's that?" Lucy asked, growing uncomfortable. She slipped on her bomber jacket and grabbed the box of dog toys from Xochitl.

  "Just some, you know, protestors, you know, in the parking lot." Nicolette looked only slightly abashed. "We'd gotten some threats before, you know, the Expo. About inviting you." Her cell rang, and she pointed a long finger, telling Lucy and Xochitl to hang on. "The Anti-Werebeast Commission? Peranuht shune kakneh! Do something!" Nicolette sounded off in a most unladylike fashion.

  "Protestors? Let's bounce," Xochi said, unwilling to put their safety in the smooth hands of this up-and-coming Beverly Hills business diva.

  "Let's go 'round that way," Lucy said, scanning the formal garden's back wall. "Behind that wall is a walkway to the old, bricked-over pool. I saw it in the brochure."

  Without pausing Xochitl headed straight for the stone passage half hidden on the side of the yard by the great fountain. Lucy and Xochitl didn't speak but kept an eye on their surroundings, watching people flee the area through the courtyard and up the slate stairs toward the parking lot.

  As Lucy and Xochitl made their way down the small stone steps to the pool house, they could hear shouting and chanting from the parking lot level.

  "NO WERES NOWHERE! NO WERES NOWHERE! NO WERES NOWHERE!" The rhythmical chant swelled as they crossed the brick plaza and hustled to the hillside next to the Roman pool house.

  "TO HELL WITH HOUNDS!" "NOT IN MY BACKYARD!" "WEREBEASTS KILL!" "TURN BACK THE CLOCK!" "NO HOUNDS OR WERES ALLOWED!" "GET RID OF THE FUR BACKS!"

  Lucy and Xochitl climbed through the bushes, arriving slightly above the parking lot, but remained hidden from sight.

  The lot had filled up considerably, protesters marching in droves on foot up the long driveway. The people who'd attended the event scrambled to their cars, honking and flashing their brights.

  "ARREST THE WEREWOLF WHISPERER!" "NO WEREBEASTIALITY!" "NO ONE IS SAFE!"

  "Yeah, I'm clearly their biggest problem," Lucy said, seeing a large poster with her picture inside a red circle with a slash through it.

  "I like that one," Xochitl said pointing to a homemade Occupy Werewolves sign. "I don't even know what that means, but I like it."

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. "All kidding aside, we've gotta get outta here."

  Xochitl and Lucy regarded the hundreds of people crowding the parking lot, protesters strutting about and guests trying to leave.

  "I think fire road," Lucy said, considering their location. From their vantage on the hill, she could see a dirt road a few feet from the parking lot. She couldn't tell for sure, but it seemed to connect to the large driveway leading to the gargantuan estates perched above Greystone.

  "Off-road?" Xochitl's eyes sparkled. "Hells yeah!"

  "Just have to get to El Gallo." Lucy pointed to a group of protestors with "NO WERES NOWHERE" splashed across their red shirts. They swarmed El Gallo, staging what looked to Lucy like an old-fashion sit-in.

  "Asswipes!" Xochitl spat. "If they as much as put a scratch on my car, voy a romperles los boney armas de sus dirty hippy cuerpos!"

  "So, the plan is...walk to the car, get in and drive off?" Lucy asked
with skepticism.

  "Sounds like a good plan." Xochi began to unsheathe her Karambit knife.

  "No blood, Xoch," Lucy said and pulled on her worn leather ranch gloves, juggling the box of dog toys.

  "Okey dokey." Xochitl bent down and picked up a fist-sized rock from the ground. "Let's go."

  Lucy let out a heavy sigh. She knew in a crowd situation things could go sideways quickly, and judging by the mob pouring into the lot this would only escalate. Lucy imagined Enrique Baldwin already saw himself accepting a Peabody Award. All she wanted was to get out without having to throw a punch.

  Lucy and Xochitl made their way down the hill toward El Gallo. The crowd parted reluctantly, but shooting out from the bushes, Lucy and Xochitl had the element of surprise on their side. Indiscriminate shoving helped get people out of their way faster.

  Lucy bonked a sitting protester on the head with the box of dog toys, taking the moment of his rising to complain as an opportunity to slip into the car and lock the door. Xochitl had made it into the driver's side without a problem, but Lucy saw she no longer carried the stone she had picked up on the hill. Lucy decided not to ask.

  El Gallo roared twice as if getting ready for a street race.

  "You fuckers better know I'm serious!" Xochitl yelled and flashed her brights. Lucy worried about Xochitl just running over people, but the protesters didn't give her the chance. Provoked, they jumped up and circled the front of the car, banging on the driver and passenger side windows.

  "Were sluts!" a man Lucy recognized as Fat Dan Walters shouted and threw himself on the hood of the car.

  "Splat goes the lard ass," Xochitl sang brightly to the tune of Pop Goes the Weasel and threw the car in full reverse. El Gallo bounced over the curb, crushed a few saplings in his wake and flew onto the dirt road. The protesters stood in shock; no one moved for a moment, giving Xochitl the chance to straighten the car and scream down the dirt road away from Greystone and back toward the Boulevard.

  Chapter 4

  911 Operator: "911. What is your emergency?"

  Caller: "Please you have to help!"

  (screaming and roaring in the background)