Free The Werewolf Whisperer (The Werewolf Whisperer Series Book 1) by Camilla Ochlan, Bonita Gutierrez

tonight.
    Lucy
was glad she'd chosen to follow closely. Something about this didn't feel
right.
    Xochitl
Magaña hadn't taken her eyes off Lucy, and Lucy felt unspoken accusations burn
into to her.
    "If
you're not driving to the station, aren't you defying a direct order?"
Xochitl finally asked.
    "Sorry,
Ms. Magaña." Lucy tuned the police scanner, trying to seem busy.
    "¡Híjole!
Since you've got me chasing ambulances, call me Xochitl."
    "Xochitl,
I am sorry," Lucy said and glanced over at the woman. "My captain
doesn't get what happened. I have to see Gabe."
    "Man,
my dogs are barkin'." Xochitl reached down and started pressing on her
feet through her snakeskin ankle boots.
    The
police scanner crackled and spurted out calls in rapid succession: "Multiple
suspects on foot heading north on Grand by the Music Center...Robbery in
progress at Transamerica...Shots fired at Union Station..." Static filled
the car for the space of a breath. The scanner continued, "Officer
requesting backup at 7th and Figueroa...101 closed at Alameda. Apparent assault
on delivery truck on the ramp."
    "I've
got to get back," Lucy said out loud, feeling torn. "We're close
though."
    Sunrise
was still hours away but traffic seemed unusually light. Lucy fixed her eyes on
the road ahead, troubled. She'd grown to accept L.A.'s 24/7 rush hour fiasco
and felt a sense of impending doom settle in her stomach as the cruiser flew
toward East Los Angeles Hospital through empty streets.
    Lucy
turned her head to see Xochitl locked onto her phone, texting rapidly. Lucy
wouldn't blame her for sending an emergency message but hoped the woman was merely
searching the web and not updating some Face Twitter page thing with " Kidnapped by LAPD officer."
    That'd
go over well.
    Perversely,
Lucy suddenly felt self-conscious about the car. Gabe had borrowed the K-9 unit
cruiser for the raid because they had planned to pick up dogs from the fights
and take them to ACTF foster homes.
    Hope Dawn got all the pooches.
    The
backseat of the cruiser was partitioned off by bars, and the windows were
decked out with custom grating. Clean dog blankets lay folded on the backseat.
The smell of dog mixed with the empty Cabra Blanca food wrappers strewn on the
floor. Lucy didn't mind, but she'd noticed Xochitl had wrinkled her nose when
she'd gotten in.
    Xochitl
had kicked the wrappers out of the way, slyly checking out where they were
from. The fact that she hadn't commented on the mess impressed Lucy.
    Maybe Xochitl's Cabra Blanca crazy too. Eddie's
food has lots of fans.
    Lucy
considered suggesting they track down the food truck for a late night snack, or
perhaps early breakfast. Lucy's stomach grumbled loudly.
    "Hungry?"
Xochitl said, not looking up from her phone. "Me too."
    Pulling
in right behind the ambulance, Lucy parked the cruiser in the hospital's emergency
vehicle lane and sprinted toward the entrance without saying a word to Xochitl.
A team of four in green scrubs was waiting with a red crash cart and another machine Lucy didn't recognize. The EMTs
struggled to get Gabe out of the back of the rig on his gurney. From where she
stood, Lucy could only see the top of Gabe's head.
    "Officer
Torres. Gunshot. Temperature 102.5. Blood pressure 180/110. BPM 160. Patient
appears stable," one of the EMTs rattled off, his eyes wide and his voice
faltering.
    "That can't be," the doctor
snapped and leaned over Gabe.
    *
    "You
could've at least turned the car off, loca," Xochitl mumbled as she
reached for the vehicle's ignition and cut the engine. Sprawled across the
cruiser's cab, Xochitl yanked the driver's side door shut.
    As
she rose, she caught a glimpse of flashing lights from another ambulance
pulling in behind her.
    Xochitl
scooted out of the cruiser and jogged over to Lowell who stood next to the team
of medical staff working on Officer Torres.
    "Let's take him up." A middle-aged man with
salt-and-pepper hair wrapped a stethoscope around his neck. Xochitl guessed he
was the