Xochi stood slowly; her wrist stung. She saw a large abrasion on the palm of her hand where she'd broken her fall.
"You okay?" Lucy asked Xochitl who was blowing on her palm.
"Yep." Xochitl wiped her hand on her pants. She looked up to the boat — the words The Charon painted on its hull.
"The Sharon. Who's Sharon?" Xochitl wondered aloud.
"It's pronounced Kha-ron, with a k sound," a male voice said with what sounded like an Eastern European accent.
Xochitl peered around Lucy who was helping Mac lift the hand truck off Travis and saw a stocky man who appeared to be in his sixties — his tanned face leathery-looking from years on the open sea. He wore navy blue dungarees that flared at the bottom and a white cable knit sweater with a white turtleneck underneath. A navy colored skullcap covered a seemingly bald head, completing his uniform. He might have looked as if he'd walked out of a Norman Rockwell painting if it hadn’t been for the fat cigar he held between his fingers.
"It's the name of the Ferryman who carries the souls of the dead across the river Styx." The man pointed to the side of the boat. "Apropos, don't you think?"
Xochitl neither liked the name of the boat nor the callous nature of the man whom she assumed to be its captain.
"Captain Azov." Mac stepped forward. "This is The Werewolf Whisperer and her partner."
"Please, Lucy and Xochitl." Lucy stuck her hand out for the Captain to shake.
Captain Azov took Lucy's hand. He bent down slightly and placed a light kiss on the top.
Gross!
Xochitl wrinkled her nose.
Lucy took it in stride.
"Mac," Captain Azov said to his man. "Take the dolly to the boarding ramp and tell Mills to lower the crane."
"Yes, sir." Mac veered the dolly around Lucy and his captain and headed toward the bow of the boat.
As Mac neared the loading ramp, Xochitl noticed a large metal cage on the pier. Her eyes continued to follow him as he made his way up to the deck and back toward the stern, stopping at the entrance to the bridge. Beyond Mac, several oversized metal cages had been stowed at the bow.
Xochi nudged Lucy. "Looks like Travis isn't the only one with a golden ticket."
"Are you going to hoist him up with the crane?" Lucy asked before Xochitl could mention the cages.
"Yes," the Captain replied. "We will harness it then lift it—"
"Not it. Him." Xochitl scowled at Captain Azov. He grinned and stuck the cigar in his mouth.
Xochitl moved toward the captain. Lucy touched Xochi's arm, stopping her. Xochitl glanced at her friend. Lucy eyed Azov's hip where he holstered his pistol.
"Has been out cold for a while, yes?" Captain Azov blew out a puff of smoke and pointed his cigar at Travis.
Xochitl felt dizzy from the mix of tobacco and seaweed in the air and took a step back from the captain.
"Yes," Lucy replied abruptly. "We shot Travis with enough tranquilizer to keep him down for another eight hours."
"No matter." The captain waved his cigar in the air. "We have our methods...should we need to use them."
A sick feeling bubbled up in Xochitl's stomach.
Are we doing the right thing?
Over the captain's shoulder, Xochitl watched Mac approach with a large harness attached to a long chain and hook bundled in his arms.
"Mills gave me this, Captain." Mac dropped the harness at Lucy's feet.
"Good, good. Hook him up." Azov waved his cigar toward Travis and grinned at Xochitl once more.
She knew he was toying with her, and she desperately wanted to kick him in the groin. She'd been underestimated by men like this her whole life and was not intimidated by Captain Azov, from God knows where, at all.
Lucy grabbed part of the harness and helped Mac place it around Travis' torso. As the crane lowered, Mac lifted the chain's hook and latched it to a large rusted clasp that protracted from the rig.
"Okay, Mills!" Mac yelled up to a man on the deck, and Travis was lifted off the pier, his arms and legs dangling lifelessly in the air.
"So," Captain Azov stuck his cigar in his mouth and slapped his hands together. "You have something for me, yes?"
Xochitl glared at the man as he stared at the black duffel strapped across her body. His eyes gleamed with greed. She wanted to spit in his face.
"Yes." Xochitl gritted her teeth as she pulled the bag over her head and held it in front of her. She unzipped the duffel, spreading it open for the captain to inspect.
"Very good." Captain Azov reached for the bag. Xochitl pulled it away before he could take it.
"Not so fast." She handed the duffel to Lucy and got face to face with the captain. They were close in height. Xochitl stared straight into his eyes and lowered her voice.
"And there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him." She let the words linger in the captain's ear and watched for the moment when she knew he'd gotten her meaning. It wasn't much more than a flinch of his eye, but it was enough to tell her he knew she was serious.
"See that Travis gets to the island alive and in one piece." Lucy closed in and handed the duffel of cash to the captain.
Captain Azov tipped his fingers to his cap. "Ladies." He turned and walked away.
"Az-hole!" Xochi muttered.
No. I will not be bringing Miguel here.
They turned and walked back to El Gallo.
Chapter 14
Corrido Del Gallo Feroz
Dicen, por este valle, lo han nombrado,
"El Gallo" más feroz por aquí,
Sin temor, de las quijadas de la Bestia,
rescato a los lobitos, creo que sí.
Con un tirazo a la frente de la Bestia,
Mató Chatero en un, dos, por tres,
En fin, la Bestia no pudo dominarlo,
Faltó la fuerza de un gallo superior.
(El estribillo)
Esta leyenda la cantan sus admiradores,
Si lo ven, por Díos, deben de correr,
Y deben d'esconderse d'este Gallo,
Con su pistola, no será muy juguetón.
Este mito, recuerdan los viejitos,
Para que los niños deben de creer,
Existe este Gallo gavilante
Con su pistola, bravura y poder.
23 months ago
In the middle of a makeshift dogfighting ring, Xochitl hung limply between Tuti and another East Los. She didn't know which one. She didn't care. They were all a bunch of animals to her now.
Relief had washed over her when Tuti finally brought her to Memo. The beatings that had left her belly bruised and swollen would stop. Memo would make good on his promise to kill her.
I need to lie down.
Xochitl tried to lower herself down to the floor, but Tuti and his little helper kept her from moving.
Why won't they let me sleep?
Xochitl found it hard to concentrate as random thoughts clouded her mind like a thick fog. She tried to focus with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. Memo's feet paced back and forth in front of her. She found the movement strangely comforting — though funny that he still couldn't make a move on her.
El Gallo. Shit. Should have called himself El Pollo. Ha!
Xochitl smiled at her own joke.
Memo's feet stopped in front of her. "¡Oye puta, mira!"
Xochitl's hair pulled at her skull as her head snapped back. Blood dripped down her chin; her grin still plastered on her face. Memo stared at her, turning red with rage. He was holding something in his hand.
Is that a remote control? Are we gonna watch TV now?
Xochitl didn't know why she thought that was funny, but she chuckled, spitting up more blood in the process.
"You think this is funny, bitch!" Memo barked.
She didn't see the back of Memo's hand come at her. The sting on her cheek sent shockwaves of pain through her body. But she didn't yell out or say a word. Instead she kept smiling, daring hi
m to finish the job.
Let's get this over with, "El Gallo."
"Want something to laugh about?" Memo moved to her side and grabbed her chin, making her stare directly ahead. "Laugh at this."
She heard him snap his fingers. "¡Feo, venga!"
From across the warehouse a steel door flew open with a bang. Confused, her vision blurred, Xochitl barely made out the two figures entering.
What's happening?
As the figures approached them, Xochi could see that one of the men was a huge gangbanger with a pockmarked face. He was holding onto a thick chain leash that was attached to a dog collar around the neck of a teenage boy.
Boy?...Oh, God! Miguel!
The hulking banger stopped outside the ring, several feet away from her.
Miguel, wearing only dirty, torn chinos, stood motionless beside his jailer; her brother's eyes were cast to the ground. Despite Miguel's defined chest and arm muscles, Xochitl was shocked by his gaunt appearance. His once beautiful brown skin was now dull and pale.
Xochi's heart raced at the sight of her little brother chained like one of Memo's dogs. As if she'd just been shot up with adrenaline, her brain immediately cleared of any fogginess.
"See baby. I told you, if you betrayed me, I'd take everything. I took your bar...now, your little bro." Memo pressed the remote control in his hand. Miguel dropped to his knees, screaming and writhing in pain.
"I'll kill you! Kill you!" Xochitl lunged at Memo, desperately trying to free herself from Tuti's grip. "Miguel!"
Xochitl watched in terror — her little brother's body contorting, shifting.
Oh God. No!
Miguel's back arched, his arms splayed at his sides. His muscles expanded, shredding his pants. Miguel raised his hands, curling them into tight fists at his temples, and looked as if he were fighting the transformation. All at once, his hands extended, elongating into razor-sharp claws while his face lengthened, forming a snout where his nose and mouth had been. His eyes glowed bright amber.
Miguel rose from the concrete floor and let loose a bloodcurdling howl.
The sound echoed in Xochitl's ears, sending a chill down her spine. She had witnessed Lucy Lowell's partner, Gabe, transform. He had similar features to Miguel, but his awareness — his spirit — had seemed more human. Gabe had seemed like he was trying to save Lucy, not hurt her. He'd responded to her voice, her touch. But this creature's eyes appeared to be filled with pain and rage. There was nothing of her little brother's joy behind them.
Every fiber in Xochi's being shouted out for her to look away, but she could only stand there, staring at the monster that had once been Miguel and scream — scream for the loss of her brother, her family, her life.
"That's better, little güera." Memo moved away to stand midway between her and Miguel.
Xochitl stifled her screams.
Don't give him the satisfaction.
Vaguely aware of the laughing and hollering from the bangers behind her, all Xochi heard was the low growl emanating from the large, black Werebeast pacing before her, as Memo's lackey held on to its chain for dear life.
"You know, I always knew the kid had something inside him. Who knew it was dog." Memo laughed as he moved closer to Miguel. "Turned out to be a good little killer too. I should know. I trained him."
"I'm gonna kill..." Xochitl's voice cracked as she struggled to get the words out. "Cabrón."
"I always loved to make you scream." Memo licked the air with his tongue. "But first things first." Memo nodded to his man with the leash. "¡Mátela!"
"Kill her," was ringing in Xochitl's ears as she watched the gangbanger release the leash, sending Were Miguel charging across the room toward her.
She threw her head back, connecting with Tuti's face and knocking both of them off their feet. Xochitl rolled to her side just as her brother grabbed Tuti's leg, dragged him through the ring fencing and tossed the banger up in the air like a rag doll.
Holy shit!
Tuti landed on the cement floor with a thud. His body twitched and spasmed. Blood pooled around his head.
Xochitl scrambled to get to her feet, as Were Miguel, with one powerful leap, soared over the perimeter of the ring and landed next to her.
Were Miguel lunged at Xochitl. She raised her right arm in front of her face to block his attack. His teeth missed her throat but sunk into the flesh of her shoulder. The bone cracked. Blinding pain wracked her body. She screamed.
"Miguel! Stop! Miguel!"
Miguel straddled her, his chain whipping across her thighs. His jaws snapped at her face and throat, the force of his body weight pinning her legs down.
Xochi struggled to breathe, as she tried to push him off her. "Pleeeease...Mi...guel."
Xochitl's arms were giving way. She didn't think she could hold her brother off much longer. Tears mixed with blood and sweat rolled down her cheeks, stinging the cuts on her face. She knew she was going to die. Her baby brother — the love of her life — was going to kill her.
Xochitl took one last look into her brother's blazing amber eyes and whispered, "Te amo, mijo."
*
A crisp spring breeze blew through North Hollywood, momentarily creating the illusion of a luscious, urban paradise. Glimmering sunshine and clear skies highlighted the bright red splashes of ubiquitous bougainvillea plants climbing the buildings and made the Vineland warehouse row look almost cheery.
Lucy jumped out of the cruiser and hurried to the arriving SWAT truck. On the drive from Gyssell's and with Rice's cooperation, Burch had assembled a six-man SWAT team at lightning speed.
"Why can't we have a full team?" Lucy complained, meaning to tease.
Burch just shrugged, taking her seriously. "Rice gave us what's available. But he sent us dogs, just for you."
Two familiar German shepherds greeted Lucy at the truck. The dogs pulled hard on their leashes, clearly agitated and ready to tear into someone. Lucy clicked her tongue, and they settled.
"Why don't you just join K9 SWAT already? Rommel would trade me in for you in a heartbeat." Jake Garlit playfully offered.
"I don't have the right temperament. That and I don't want to carry my partner's poop bag." She grinned at the handler and adjusted the Kevlar vest another SWAT officer had handed her.
Wonder what Rice's planning for the K-9 unit.
"We're entering from both sides of the building," Burch briefed her. "Stay behind the dogs. SWAT is going in first."
Lucy nodded and readied her Beretta, then, once Burch looked preoccupied, scooted in front of the canines.
"You don't mind," Lucy said.
"Alpha bitches first is my motto," Jake Garlit answered with a wink.
"Just don't let Donner bite you in the ass," the other K9 officer quipped lamely.
"Alec, I'd keep a tight hold on Donner if I were you. We don't know how the dogs are gonna react if there are Werebeasts in there. They'll either go nuts and attack, or they'll try to hide up your asshole," Lucy replied evenly.
The thick reek of blood and sweat hit Lucy even before the SWAT officers broke down the warehouse door.
Playtime's over.
The crash of the metal door hit by the battering ram bounced off the concrete and gave way to screaming and snarling — the horrible sounds of a dog attack in progress.
Memo's men bellowed as SWAT swept into the building.
"LAPD! LAPD! DOWN ON YOUR KNEES! DOWN ON YOUR KNEES!" Lucy heard Burch through the intense barking and yelping of the shepherds behind her. She didn't turn but sensed the dogs were sorting out their fight or flight instinct.
The scene before Lucy looked grotesque with broken bodies strewn around an expansive fight ring. A large Werebeast ripped into a person crumpled on the ground.
"OFF!" Lucy shouted and tore ahead of the other officers. The Werebeast reeled as if flung backward.
"SIT! STAY!" Lucy turned her full attention to the person on the ground. Blond hair spilled over the face; the woman's ripped up shoulder and ar
m spurted blood.
"XOCHITL!" Lucy screamed.
Please be alive!
"He's got a device!" someone else called out.
Lucy spun to see Memo Morales, now down on his knees, clamp his hand around a remote control before dropping it on the ground and lifting his arms again.
"Shock collar!" Lucy got out the words just in time for the Werebeast to throw its head back and release a deafening roar. Obvious agony coursed through it, interfering with Lucy's hold, and it turned on her with murderous rage.
"He's my Miguel." Xochitl raised her head, voice desperate. "Don't shoot."
Instead of backing up, Lucy stepped into the Werebeast and smashed her Beretta into his snout.
"SIT! I said, SIT!" She growled the last "sit" and looked directly into his eyes.
Were Miguel stumbled back onto his haunches and froze.
"Guillermo 'El Gallo' Morales, you have the right to remain silent; anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney." Lucy heard an officer read Memo his rights as she tried to help Xochitl.
Lucy glanced over to see a SWAT officer zip tie Memo while another trained his Heckler & Koch MP5 on the row of Memo's lackeys.
Other members of the team worked on the large dog crates lining the wall. Lucy shuddered when she saw people awkwardly crawling out of the confinements. The mix of throaty growls and broken words confirmed that these were the people Memo had taken.
Those that are left, anyway.
"If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?" The officer finished Mirandizing Memo.
"¿Qué?" Memo glanced up at the officer and gave an exaggerated shrug, which drew a guffaw from Feo. His chuckle died abruptly as Officer Gorski shoved him outside.
"Usted tiene el derecho de guarder el silencio. Cualquier cosa que Usted diga puede ser usada contra Usted en una corte de ley," Ignacio Ramos broke in. "¿Entiende Usted?"
A handful of officers from the Metropolitan Division had entered the scene with a group of soldiers in grey camouflage, led by Major Rice.
"Usted tiene el derecho de hablar con un abogado y tener un abogado presente durante nuestras preguntas," Ignacio continued quoting the Miranda warning calmly. "¿Entiende Usted?"
The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) Page 19