The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) (28 page)

She
glanced around the cozy room, and it dawned on her that everything in it, all
the knickknacks, the figurines of puppies and horses, the wall art of beautiful
show dogs and wildlife, belonged to a young girl. Even Lucy's bed, with its
white eyelet comforter was a twin, not a double or a queen or any size
befitting a grown woman. The room was a snapshot of Lucy's childhood. Her refuge.
The place that made her the happiest.

"Tau!
Thandiwe!" Hanna's voice bellowed down the hall into Lucy's room. "Come!"

Xochitl
stood as two large puppies the color of rust loped into Lucy's room and jumped
up, placing their massive paws onto Xochi's chest.

"Um,
hi!" Xochitl said, tilting her head back from the dogs' relentless
attempts to lick her face.

"Off!"
Hanna boomed as she raced into the room, stopping at the doorway. "Sit!"
Her hand pointed to the ground.

Tau
and Thandi dropped their rumps to the floor and sat looking expectantly up at
Xochitl.

"Damn
twin puppies." Hanna sounded out of breath. "Always getting out of
their kennel." She looked down at the pups. "Too damn smart for your
own good."

"Puppies?"
Xochitl looked at the twins and put her arms up in the air. "I got nothin'
for ya."

Tau
and Thandi's tails slapped at the hardwood floor in response.

"Doc's
on his way," Hanna said and nodded to the bathroom. "Your room's on
the other side. You can share the washroom with Lucy. Towel's underneath the
sink." She looked at Kai. "Not sure what to do with him."

"I
think he's good there." Xochitl walked toward the bathroom with Tau and
Thandi on her heels. "Not you two." She put her hand up. "Stay."

The
puppies stopped.

"Good."
Xochitl smiled at the dogs, then looked at Hanna. "Thanks, by the
way...for taking care of her." Xochitl glanced at Lucy.

"That's
what I was put on this Earth to do." Hanna smiled. "I'll see about
getting some clean clothes for your mutt."

"That'd
be great."

Hanna
left the room. Tau and Thandi stayed.

"Great."
Xochit groaned and glowered at the dogs.

The
twin pups followed her through the bathroom into the adjoining bedroom. She
flicked on the light.

Clearly
the guest bedroom, it was identical to Lucy's except for the plain furnishings.
Only a mirror and a store-bought landscape adorned the walls. The nicest
accessory in the room was a handmade quilt of reds and yellows draped over the
bed.

At
least the bed's a double.

Beyond
exhausted, Xochitl staggered to the bed, plopped down and yanked off her boots.

"Fine,"
she said to Tau and Thandi who stood in front of her, patiently waiting. "I'm
too tired to argue with dogs."

Her
eyelids drooping, Xochi sprawled out on the bed. The clicking of claws as the
pups circled each other for the best napping place lulled her to sleep.

Chapter 20

Major
General Ronald M. Davidson — Recorded Personal Log

I have assumed
command today as of zero-six-hundred hours. The initial
skirmish was first reported this morning at zero-three-hundred
hours by Corporal Saunders who witnessed several Marines housed in his barracks
change into what he referred to as "werewolves."
Sigh

Brigadier
General Andrew T. Milton...Andy...USMC Camp Pendleton CO was killed after being
afflicted by what I assume can only be the, as of yet, unidentified virus
originating in Los Angeles. We lost thirty-four more Marines to the Affliction.
All were killed during the three-hour battle. As of now, fifty-two Marines are
confirmed dead in defense of the base with approximately another one hundred
and sixty-seven base personnel wounded. Several are still in critical
condition.

I will expedite
my report of the conflict to General Paul H. Hicks Commandant of the Marine
Corps to ensure that all killed today be granted full honors and, along with
their fellow injured Marines, be awarded the Purple Heart in recognition of
their sacrifice.
Sigh

Today
is a sad day for the Corps...and for me.

21 months ago

Three
hours and Grande iced coffees later, Xochitl turned off the I-5 Freeway onto
Harbor Drive toward Camp Pendleton — the first home she had ever known.

The
Marine base was immediately off the exit, and Xochitl was surprised at how much
the Main Gate entrance had changed. The original two-lane drive was now four
lanes and the old "guard shack," as it was affectionately called, had
been replaced by four guard booths. Huge cement barriers flanked either side of
her car, funneling her and all traffic to the third booth. Judging by the squad
of Marines stationed at the gate and the enormously high fence that appeared to
run the perimeter of the base, security had clearly been beefed up.

¡Híjole!
It's DEFCON 1 around here.

An
oversized yellow and black sign read
CAUTION
100,000 VOLTS
.

That's new...I think.

Xochi
pulled up to the guard booth, and the MP motioned for her to roll down her
window. She complied, the salty air feeling good on her face.

"Hi.
I'm here to see Colonel Jones. My name is Xochitl Magaña." Xochitl gave
the Marine the sweetest smile she could muster.

"ID,
ma'am." The stoic Marine held out his hand.

Okaaay.
I remember these guys being friendlier. Of course, I was five.

Xochitl
reached for her bag and pulled out her wallet. The only identification she had
left was an expired driver's license and an old MCX ID from when she was
little. She had lost everything else in the fire that had burned down her bar.

I
hope he'll be okay with these.

With
a wide grin, Xochitl handed the cards over to the guard.

The
Marine meticulously inspected her IDs.

Xochitl
felt the nervous grin plastered on her face and forced herself to look away
from the guard.

"You
know, this license is expired," the Marine said.

"It
is?" Xochitl gazed back at the guard, feigning disbelief.

"By
a year."

She
knew the man wasn't buying her act.

"I
know. I'm sorry. I recently lost everything in a fire and I'm just trying to see
my Uncle Vernon Jones. He really is waiting for me. If you could just call
the—"

The
Marine threw up his hand, halting her tirade. "Colonel Jones is your
uncle?"

"Well,
not my actual uncle. He was my father's best friend. He was stationed here. I
actually lived here until I was six. See." Xochi pointed to the MCX ID. "That's
me."

The
guard looked at the little girl on the card and smiled. "Cute. But I still
can't let you in."

"Please.
If you could just call up to HQ."

Xochitl's
cell phone buzzed in her pocket. This time she put up her hand to interrupt the
guard. "Just a sec."

The
Marine grunted, annoyed. Xochitl knew she was pushing her luck. She pressed her
back into the seat, pried the phone out of her skinny jeans and flipped it
open. Her uncle's office number was displayed on the Caller ID screen.

"Hi."
Xochitl paused to listen to her Uncle Vern on the other end of the call. "No.
The MP won't let me in...My ID is expired...I know...Okay." She handed her
phone to the guard. "Here, he wants to talk to you."

"Hello?"
The Marine stood at attention when he heard the colonel on the other end.

Even
from where she was sitting, Xochitl could hear the deep baritone of her uncle's
commanding voice. She leaned her head back against her seat and smiled knowing the
meaning behind that tone. Vern had a way of calmly letting you know you've
screwed up and to not do it again. He was never mean, but he was still scary.

"Sir...Yes,
sir...I will, sir," the MP said, his anxious tenor signaling to Xochi that
Vern had made his instructions abundantly clear.

She
tilted her head toward the guard and grinned.

He looks like he's either gonna salute
the phone
or crap his pants.

She
knew the man was just doing his job, but she still found herself having to
stifle a giggle.

The
guard hung up the phone and handed it and the IDs back to Xochi. "You can
go on ahead."

"Great.
Thanks so much." Xochitl gave the MP an "I feel your pain —
been there myself" look.

Not that it'll do much good.

Without
another word, the Marine stepped back from her car and waved her through the
gate. Xochitl gave the MP a slight nod and drove onto the base for the first
time in twenty-two years.

Xochitl
gazed out the window of the Toronado, amazed as she drove along Vandergrift
Boulevard toward headquarters. The dry, desert-like terrain was about the only
thing on base that looked the same as when she was little. By the Main Gate she
passed a new hospital under construction — though the project seemed to
have been abandoned.

Guess defense against KV took priority.

Many
more housing communities had been erected on base since Xochi had lived there
— newer, Spanish-style homes that reminded her more of mini suburbs than
military lodging. O'Neal Heights, set in the hills behind the old hospital, had
been her home until her papa had moved her to Los Angeles.

Xochitl
had loved living on base as a child. She'd felt safe. There had been lots of
kids to play with, and on really warm days her parents had taken her boating on
Lake O'Neal.

Xochi
had loved being on the water with her papa.

He taught me how to fish on that lake.
Well, he'd do the fishing while I tried to
the save the worms from his hook.

"¡Ay!
Mija, you're wasting the bait," her papa would chide.

"But
Papa, I'm saving them," she would reply.

Her
father would just chuckle, pat her head and eventually give up on fishing.

Papa liked the idea of fishing more than
the actual fishing.

Xochi's
mom would always have a Kentucky Fried Chicken picnic waiting for them on shore.

Huh.
Haven't been on the water since living here. Haven't had KFC either.
Mmmm...KFC...

Xochitl's
stomach rumbled.

As
she approached the Mainside Center — the hub for base activity —
her mind moved away from thoughts of food and filled with memories of her
mother.

Alice
Magaña had the brightest blue eyes that would instantly light up at the sight
of Xochi's papa, Carlos. To Xochitl her mom was the prettiest lady on base,
especially when she smiled. She had flaxen hair and fair skin that complemented
Xochi's father's black hair and brown skin. They had been the most striking
couple.

Like movie stars.

And
when she and her mom would go shopping at the MCX or the commissary, people
would often comment how much Xochi resembled her mother. Her mom would reply, "Oh,
she does. But she's more like her papa. Wise and strong. Five going on thirty."
Then she'd laugh.

Xochi
loved her mother's laugh and how, when her papa really got her going, it would
start at the center of her belly and crescendo in an explosion of sound that
increased until no sound came out. Only the shaking of her body revealed she
was still laughing.

Her
parents had entertained often when the men were home. Her papa and Uncle Vern would
light up the barbecue, and all the families in the neighborhood would come over
for hot dogs and hamburgers. The celebrations got so big that they would spill
out onto the streets, transforming into block parties that would last well into
the night.

As
the beer flowed, the moms would gather to gossip or talk about base life. Xochi
liked to sit on her mom's lap and listen as she spoke about how glad she was to
finally be in a real home that didn't share walls with anyone else. The other moms
always had nodded in agreement — like they were bonding over the shared
experience. The women would exchange decorating tips and laugh about how their
husbands complained that they had bought another pillow or throw blanket.
Xochitl recalled how her mother would spend hours rearranging the furniture or
painting walls. Looking back on those days, it occurred to Xochi that her papa
had always been away when her mom went into "fix-up" mode, as he'd
called it.

She was just filling her days. Keeping
her mind off Papa and whatever danger he was in.

Xochitl's
mother had been a brave woman — brave and loving until her end.

Xochi
shuddered at the memory of her mom in the hospital, lying on a bed with tubes
running in and out of her. Xochitl had been six and too young to stay with her.
Instead she'd spent most of her time with Vern or next-door with her mom's
friend, Janis.

Alice
Magaña had passed during the night, succumbing to breast cancer without Xochitl
ever having gotten to say a real goodbye.

Tears
flowed down Xochi's face. She looked into the rearview mirror. Her eyes were
bloodshot, and her nose was runny.

Great.
Enough Xochitl.

She
wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket and sat up straight.

A
few minutes later, she pulled up in front of Marine Corps Base Headquarters.
She thought it odd, since Vern usually worked for the Major General in the 1
^st
Marine Division Headquarters. She chalked it up — like most things now
— to Werebeasts.

Xochitl
stepped out of El Gallo as a tall, bald African-American man, dressed in tan
fatigues with his cap tucked under his arm, exited the HQ building. She smiled
and waved to her Uncle Vern.

"Hey,
baby girl." Vern strode across the street and threw his arms around
Xochitl, squeezing her tight to his chest.

"Ow."
She sucked in a breath, wincing in her uncle's bear hug.

"Oh,
sorry." Vern pulled away from Xochi, holding her at arm's length. "Did
I hurt you?"

"No.
I'm okay. Just a bit beat up still."

At
only five feet five inches in height to Vern's six feet two inches, Xochi had
to stretch her neck back to look up at him. She felt incredibly tiny next to
her uncle.

Vern
eyed her up and down, stopping on the bandage still protecting her healing
right shoulder. Uncomfortable, Xochi shifted her weight from foot to foot and
waited for the inspection to end.

"You
look good, considering a Werebeast bit you."

"Yeah,
Were bites are becoming all the rage now in L.A." She brushed her hand
over the raised pink scar on her forearm.

How do I tell him it was Miguel?

"Uh
huh." Vern raised an eyebrow.

Xochitl
opened the car door. "At least we know the whole getting bit and turning
into a werewolf during the full moon is bull. I haven't had the slightest urge
to go furry."

"Good
to know." Vern walked around the Toronado to the passenger side. "Nice
ride, by the way."

"You
like?" À la Vanna White, Xochi waved the back of her hand across the top
of the car. "I'm going old school these days."

She
slid in behind the wheel, leaned across the front seat and unlocked the
passenger door. Vern ducked in and settled beside her.

"So,
where are you livin' these days?" Xochitl revved El Gallo.

"We're
not going to the barracks. We're off base for this one."

"Okay."
Xochitl gave her Uncle Vern a sideways glance and pulled onto the road headed
for the San Luis Rey Gate.