"To Carlito." Bob clinked his beer to Vern's and took a long swig.
Xochitl couldn't believe she was sitting next to another one of her father's Vietnam buddies. Until five minutes ago, Vern had been the only man she still knew from her papa's service days. Her papa had never spoken of his time in combat but had talked often about the men who'd served with him.
He never mentioned Bob.
Her papa had been drafted at eighteen. He had served under Vern, his LT, and had returned home with a Bronze Star she'd seen only once.
Never knew why he got it.
By the time Xochitl had come along, her father was a Gunnery Sergeant — "Gunny" to his men. Then her mother had died, and Xochi's father had left the Marines, moving her to Los Angeles. Uncle Vern had been reassigned to D.C. sometime later. When Vern returned, he was a Colonel, stationed at Camp Pendleton, and her father was dying.
Xochitl felt something nudge her side and looked down to see Lefty's elbow at her ribs.
"Xoch?" Vern asked.
"Huh?" Xochitl saw Vern looking expectantly at her.
"I was asking you to tell Ames about the black trucks and what the neighborhood people told you," Vern prompted.
Ames sat in his chair, hands folded over a file that rested on the table. Xochitl did not like this man and didn't want to tell him any more than necessary.
Wary of Ames, Xochitl looked to Vern. He smiled the smile he always gave her when she was unsure or frightened. Vern wanted her to trust his judgment.
I do. I just don't trust Ames.
"How about if I start, Ms. Magaña?" Ames asked curtly. "Xochi, right?"
His patronizing tone startled Xochitl and reminded her of Memo. She glared at the man, trying to figure out his angle.
Just stay cool, Xoch. Don't give him any ammunition.
"You were having an affair with gun trafficker Guillermo Morales. Is that correct?" Ames asked, an arrogant smirk on his face.
He's trying to goad you. Don't bite, Xochi.
She bit her tongue instead and nodded.
"And he was...unbeknownst to you...expanding his operation by stealing kids from the neighborhood?" Ames didn't wait for Xochitl to answer.
¡Hijo de puta!
"He used your brother. That's how you got that little souvenir." Ames pointed to the bandage on Xochitl's shoulder. His smile broadened.
Vern's head snapped around, and he stared at her with angry disbelief. Rapid murmurs skirted her consciousness. But all Xochitl heard was Memo's rabid command — ¡Mátela! — as it clawed its way through her brain, shredding her control.
"Don't you fucking talk about my brother, pendejo!" Xochitl shot out of her seat. Her chair crashed on the deck.
Fucking great Xochitl!
"That's why we're here, isn't it?" Ames leaned in, looking pleased with himself. "You want to find your little lost Werebeast brother, and I know where he is."
"Jack. That's enough!" Vern pounded his fist on the wooded table.
"What did you tell him?" Xochitl reared on Vern. She felt betrayed.
"What he needed to know to get us the information we need," Vern spat out between clenched teeth. "You should try it some time."
"Vern." Bob tried to pacify his friend. "Go easy on her."
Tears welled in Xochi's eyes, and she looked away.
I should've told him.
Vern sunk back in his seat, deflated.
Xochi clamped down on her shame. She didn't want to give Ames the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
He'd like it. Just like Memo liked it.
She placed her hand hesitantly atop Vern's. After a moment, he laced his fingers through hers.
She leaned in and whispered, "I don't need him or his information. I'll find Miguel myself."
"Xochitl, we have no choice." Vern's grip tightened. "You want Miguel?" The look in his eyes gave away his mistrust of Ames.
"Yes."
"Then this is how we do it." Vern cupped her face. "Mija, for Miguel."
Xochi nodded and leaned down to pick up the chair, but Lefty beat her to it, setting it upright.
She sat down and took a deep breath. Exhaling, she looked directly at Ames.
"Mr. Ames, listen to me very clearly. I will tell you what I know from the neighborhood. But if I ever find out you screwed me or my family over, in any way, I will hunt you down and kill you. You understand?"
Ames just smiled smugly.
"Man, I love this girl." Bob chuckled.
Out of the corner of her eye, Xochitl saw Vern shake his head slightly at Bob as if to say "not now."
"Memo." She corrected herself. "Guillermo, that is, took the Afflicted from the neighborhood, yes. He would get their families to consent because military types were hauling them off in trucks. The people were scared. They didn't know Memo was using them for his own end. He was slowly taking over not just the neighborhood, but all of East Los Angeles." Xochitl paused. She remembered the warehouse room. The smell of urine and vomit. The cage she'd been locked in for days.
"Go on," Ames said.
"All I know is," she continued, "Memo's operation was growing until Officer Lowell saved me and arrested him. And the Catchers are military run and no one knows where they take the Weres." Xochitl sat back in her chair, exhausted.
She watched Ames mull over her story.
"This is what I have so far." Ames picked up the file and handed it to Vern.
Xochitl sat up as Vern took the file and studied it for what felt like an eternity.
Vern's brow furrowed.
What? You're killing me, Vern.
"Well, damn it." Bob slammed his beer down, breaking the silence. "What the hell's going on?
Vern looked to Xochi then to Bob. "It seems there are former animal shelters—"
"Pounds," Ames interjected.
"Yes, 'pounds.'" Vern shot Ames a cold look that sent shivers down Xochitl's spine.
Miguel.
"These facilities house anywhere from ten to fifty Werebeasts," Vern continued.
"They've been retrofitted to handle larger animals," Ames added.
"They're not animals, you dick. They're people." Xochitl stuck out her hand for the file.
"We have intel," Ames said, "that some facilities are not sanctioned by the government and might be privately funded and operated."
"If 'we' is who I think 'we' is, then why didn't 'we' know about these privately funded pounds?" Bob asked Ames.
"Because 'we' didn't even know about the government pounds or what the government was doing with these people," Vern stated.
"Wait. What?" Xochitl's head shot up. "How could you not know?"
Vern zeroed in on Ames. "You're here gathering information. Seeing what to make of the situation and how to best utilize it. You're using us."
"Colonel Jones. You might want to think about what you say next," Ames said.
Xochitl watched their exchange intently. She couldn't make out what was going on between the two men, but she knew if Vern didn't do what Ames wanted, she'd never see Miguel again.
"It says here," Xochitl said, trying to get the group back on track, "that my brother is in one of these places. But it doesn't say which one." She handed the file back to Vern.
"No. It doesn't." Ames eyed Vern. "Do we have a deal?"
Deal?
"Vern?" Xochitl stared at her uncle.
"We have a deal." Vern's focus never wavered from Ames. "Now, where is he?"
"He's in a pound in Fontana." Ames pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket and handed it to Vern. "Here's the address."
Vern glanced at the paper and passed it to Bob.
"I'll send this to my guys." Bob pulled out his cell phone and began texting the address.
Vern gulped his beer.
"What guys?" Xochi twisted hard on her rings.
They made plans without me? I hate that!
"I've got a couple of my men in on the job. Thought we'd need some backup," Bob replied.
"Appreciated." Vern patted Xochi's hand.
"One more thing." Ames held up a small case. "This the kid?" He nodded to Lefty and handed it to Vern.
"Yes." Vern tucked the case under his arm. "We're done here."
Vern and Ames scooted their chairs away from the table and got up. Xochitl sat, dumbfounded.
What did I just miss?
Lefty and Bob also looked confused. Neither man got up.
"Wait. That's it?" Xochi asked. "He's just gonna leave?"
"We got what we needed, Xochitl." Vern's tone told her he'd explain later.
"Fine," Xochitl mumbled.
I wonder what Ames is getting out of this?
Outside of Jasper's Xochitl, Lefty and Bob watched her uncle Vern and John Ames walk down the road away from the bar. The men were discussing something she knew had to do with her and Miguel. A myriad of questions swarmed in her mind.
This doesn't feel right. What does Ames really want? What's the government up to? What deal did Vern make with Ames?
"Fucking spooks!" Bob spat out under his breath.
Xochi stared bug-eyed at Bob.
"What?" Bob asked. "No good assholes. Fucked us real good in Nam." He threw an arm around Xochi, giving her a little squeeze. "Don't you worry, kiddo. We got your six."
"Damn right." Lefty grabbed Xochitl's hand, holding it tight.
Standing there, between Bob and Lefty, Xochitl understood, for the first time, why her papa had called the men in the Corps his brothers.
Chapter 23
ORACLE: Spotted unidentified pack. Sniffing around.
OMEGA: take care of them
ORACLE: Roger that. Think they r scouts. More coming.
Lucy dances with abandon. She twirls in skirts made of the skins of deer. The hunt has been good. But then, calamity. The loss. The fire. The devotional. Praise the sky and the earth. Sorrow in the heart. She dances because she doesn't know how to cry. The flames of the pyre lick high into the night. Ritual. They will bury him this night. The sadness makes her stomp her feet harder, wave her hands higher. The drums beat like her heart. The whole world mourns this night. Lilting chants flow through the night. Cracks of lightning. Then they come with their terrible rage. The legs buckle. A thousand knives cut the flesh. Pain is all.
*
Xochitl shut off her phone and rested her head back on the couch. Vern's words jumbled in her thoughts, giving her a headache, and she groaned.
Tau whimpered and inched his head a little higher up on her lap. She stroked his fur. After constantly shooing the twin puppies away, Xochitl had finally given up. She'd been beaten, tortured and mauled, not to mention had her arm almost broken by a Mohawk-helmeted pendejo wielding a pipe, but it was a pair of six-month-old dogs that had broken her will.
"Well, at least you're cute." She patted Tau on the head.
"You need to tell her," Doc Howard said from down the hall. Xochi peeked over the back of the couch.
"It's not time." Hanna sounded irritated as she and Howard came into view of the living room.
Tau whined as Xochitl pushed the pups away and scooted off the couch. "Is Lucy okay?"
"Oh," Hanna stopped short. "It's you."
"It's me." Xochitl gave Hanna and Doc a little wave.
"Everything's fine." Doc Howard smiled. "Fever broke. She should be up in another day or two."
"Great." Xochitl felt relieved by the news. Even though she and Hanna seemed to have some sort of an unspoken détente, Xochitl couldn't help feeling like an intruder in Hanna's presence.
"I was just showing Steven out." Hanna held open the screen door as Doc Howard nodded to Xochitl and walked out.
"Okay, well, bye Doc," she called after the vet.
When Dr. Steven Howard had first arrived at the ranch, Xochi had instantly liked the generous, sweet-natured man. He'd lavished the family dogs, who'd clamored for his attention, with affection, giving them their favorite lamb and cookie treats. He had even brought Kai a red ball, which the boy had not stopped kicking against the wall next to Lucy's bedroom window.
Kid better cut it out, or Hanna'll kick him against the wall.
Through the screen door, Xochitl watched Doc Howard and Hanna walk to his truck. The vet was close to sixty and a little taller than Hanna, with greying brown shoulder length hair that he wore in a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck, and a thin mustache grazing the top of his upper lip. He wore a polo shirt and khakis, and like Hanna, trotted around in cowboy boots.
Not my type, even if I were sixty. But handsome.
The doc had olive skin and high cheekbones.
Wonder if he's a mutt like me.
Howard halted abruptly at his beat-up, metallic gold four-by-four and pointed emphatically at Hanna. Clearly agitated, he rattled off several choice words, though Xochitl — never really good at reading lips — only understood the word "or."
Did he just give Hanna an ultimatum? Shit, she looks pissed. Doc's sure got cojones.
Hanna waved him off with an indignant flick of her wrist. Uncharacteristically, the doc slammed his door, backed out and tore down the road — gravel flying out from underneath his truck.
"What was that all about?" Xochitl mumbled to herself.
Hanna paced back and forth across the graveled lot. Against her better judgment, Xochitl decided to get closer.
"What are you not supposed to do, poke a sleeping lion? Bear? Rabid dog?" She shrugged, opened the door and stepped outside.
Hanna fished her phone out of her jeans and read a text. She slapped her thigh.
So bad news then.
Hanna began texting feverishly.
You promised Lucy you'd give Hanna a chance.
Xochitl decided to make a quick escape.
"How long have you been there?" Hanna growled. Xochitl froze by the door.
Stealth is not your strong suit, Xoch.
Xochitl smiled sheepishly and waved at Hanna.
At the end of the porch, Xochi spotted her laptop sitting, where she'd left it, on a table between two robin egg blue Adirondack chairs.
"Just getting my laptop," she hollered back, pointing to the sitting area.
Xochitl made a beeline to the chairs and grabbed her computer. She turned to leave but was startled by Hanna who blocked her way and stared down at her. Xochitl felt a little dizzy, as if her senses were being assaulted. She tried to shake off the heebie-jeebies she always felt around Hanna.
Definitely rabid dog.
"Lucy's gonna be fine, right?" Xochitl asked.
At the mention of Lucy's name, Hanna's eyes softened and her body relaxed. Xochitl relaxed a bit too.
"Yes. Steven knows what he's doing." Hanna crammed her cell back in her pocket. "Lucy'll be up soon."
"Good...And you're okay?" Xochitl tried to sound cheery yet concerned.
"Yes, I'm fine." Hanna turned to walk back toward the front door. "Just having a problem with a rescue facility up north. I'm gonna start dinner. Do me a favor and see what your pet is up to."
Hanna disappeared into the house before Xochitl could answer.
"Yeah, sure!" she called after the strange and intimidating woman.
*
Lucy stands up to her chest in a river of blood. The warmth of it oozes all around her. Small waves of crimson muck slop up to her shoulders. This is his blood. Their blood. Witness. It isn't enough. She is alone. The sky turns to stone. The flinty darkness invades her pores, makes her stone. An island of stone in a sea of blood. Drink the wine. Eat cakes. Mother said. Abomination. She bends the knees, going down, sinking down into the clotting ocean. She closes her eyes and opens her mouth to scream. Tepid liquid rushes down her throat, the taste like metal and coal. She swallows it down and drinks deep, deep, deep until the earth turns to a brittle, dry ball, and the sun shatters in the sky.
*
Laptop in hand, Xochitl bounded down the front porch stairs and around the side of the house where she knew Kai would be. Sure enough, the teen Were was kick
ing the red ball against the siding. Ever since Hanna had banned "that filthy Feral" from Lucy's bedroom, saying she needed rest not a "spastic dog" bouncing off the walls, Kai had stationed himself underneath Lucy's window. It was clear he couldn't bring himself to leave her side, but Kai seemed to know better than to cross Hanna, and he made sure to keep his distance from her. Xochitl didn't blame him, and she wished she could do the same.
The kid reminded Xochi of a jolly version of her brother Miguel — lanky, energetic and handsome. It was undeniable that Kai, now all cleaned up, was a good-looking boy. He had beautiful almond shaped eyes that were a yellow-green naturally in the daylight but glowed gold in the dark. His shoulder length jet black hair glistened in the sunlight, and his skin, which at first had seemed pale, was now, after he'd fed and rested, a rich golden brown.
*
Lucy woke, her vision hazy and her head pounding. The sheets were warm and damp from sweat. She tried to roll over but found she couldn't so much as wiggle. Someone placed a cool hand on her forehead. Lucy blinked her eyes, and Hanna swam into view. Like Mama, Hanna smiled gently, brushing Lucy's hair out of her face and padding her arms with a soft washcloth. Lucy smelled faint rosemary and lavender notes.
"Shhh, my sweet," Hanna said. "It'll all be better soon. You're home."
Lucy forced her lips to smile a little. Her lids felt so heavy she had to close them — for only a second. When she opened her eyes again, Hanna was gone.
Lucy woke alone in her room.
No, not alone.
She turned her head to see a pile of dogs curled up on the rug next to her bed. She tapped the comforter weakly. Poppy raised her little rust colored head, gave an enormous yawn and padded over quietly. The thin dog stood like a miniature Greyhound. Poppy bumped her head against the side of Lucy's bed, then placed her front paws on top of the sheets, avoiding Lucy's arm by a hair. Lucy had spent all of her energy beckoning her to come over, and now her arm was too weak to raise up again, her hand too numb to pet Poppy's outstretched snout. Poppy snaked her head forward and licked Lucy's elbow. Lucy smiled easily and drifted back to sleep.
*
As Xochitl approached Kai, she was amazed by the control he had over the ball. The deftness the boy displayed as he juggled the toy between his feet like a pro soccer player was incredible.
The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) Page 27