The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy) (16 page)

Nadia
sauntered to the bar, and leaning against it, ordered a vodka tonic. The
bartender—a blond young man about her own age with a winsome smile and
dimples—asked for her ID. She complied with a coquettish giggle. He returned
with her drink, and Nadia put it on her tab. She turned from the bar to examine
the crowd. A refuge for locals, few tourists ever found the bar. She recognized
a number of faces, who acknowledged her with admiring eyes. Nadia spotted a
table by the window and sauntered over to it.

With
her straw, Nadia punched the lemon wedge down into her glass under the ice. She
was content to sip the one drink, maybe two, and while away her time, watching
people move through the dark street.

“Nadia?”

She
turned to see the face of an unfamiliar man looming over her. She appraised his
shaggy, wind-blown hair and his unshaven face. He watched her eyes, and he ran
his hand over his hair, helping it fall effortlessly into place. “Yes?” She asked.

“I’m
Vincent,” he sat down at the table with her.

“I
didn’t invite you to sit,” she guffawed.

“I
didn’t ask.”

“Who
are you?” She held his gaze for just a moment, just long enough to see two
pieces of cold jade blinking back at her. She had always felt her eyes, like
his, were not the color of a human’s eyes, nor were they the color of a cat’s
eyes. She could not place them in the animal kingdom, but she had always known
they were an aberration, one of Darwin’s jokes.

“I told
you, I’m Vincent. I’ve been sent to fetch you, little pup.”

Nadia’s
breath caught in her chest. She swallowed, trying to match his mocking tone.
“At least I know you’re not smart. Smart men know not to fuck with me.” She
smiled over her drink.

“I’m
not gonna mess with you,” Vincent waved his hand through the air dismissively.
“I’m here to help you. I’m here to make you
a
part
of something.” He leaned back in the chair. “I shoulda got a beer
before this chat. I’m getting thirsty. Anyway, you’re already a part of it. You
were born a part of it. I was born a part of it. The others were born—you get
the picture, right?”

Nadia
pulled back a little and scooted her chair an inch, so if she needed to run,
she could. His words frightened her, mostly because she could tell they were
true. She felt tension tighten every muscle in her body. She wanted to sip her
drink but was afraid to draw attention to her shaking hands. “And so?” She
asked, trying to sound confident.

Vincent
erupted in a loud, gruff laugh. “You’re a funny one.” He stood. “I’m gonna get
that beer after all. We got a lot to talk about.” His eyes narrowed. He tapped
the table top. “Wait here.”

Nadia
nodded. As soon as his back was turned, Nadia scanned the room. She listened
intently; she needed to know if he was alone or had a partner.
Please say something I can hear.
She
closed her eyes, letting her ears focus from person to person across the bar.
He seemed to be alone. She thought about running, but he would certainly chase
her. She decided she was safer in the bar than on the street. Besides, she was
not about to lead this guy to her mother. She trained her eyes on him.

His
phone rang, and he dug it out of his pocket. Nadia closed her eyes,
concentrating. She could hear his throaty, snarling voice. “Yeah. Yeah. I found
her. We’re having a drink. I have no doubt I can collect her. We’ll be there
tomorrow.” He hung up the phone and turned to Nadia, making a phone gesture in
the air with a wide, happy grin, like he was her best childhood friend.

Nadia
furrowed her brow, planning an escape. She tried to picture the bar but
couldn’t remember whether the lady’s room had a window.
The smoking lounge!
Nadia stood and walked toward the enclosed,
outdoor smoking area off the back of the bar. She could feel Vincent’s eyes on
her. She walked casually toward the smoking area and pulled the door open. Once
out of eyesight, Nadia darted to the high privacy fence enclosing the area.
With a quick leap, she vaulted the six foot fence. Her hands landed on the top,
and she back flipped over the edge, landing outside the enclosure. She heard
drunken, amazed sounds from the smokers on the other side of the wall.

She
darted around the corner of the building to her car. As she fumbled with her
keys, she trained her ears for his voice.

Then
she heard it.

His
voice. Not talking to her but into the phone again. “Yeah, but I don’t think she’s
gonna be as eager to kill her old lady as I was.” He chuckled. “Yeah. I got
their address. I’ll kill
 
if I need to.
Whatever it takes to get Nadia to the destination.”

Nadia
unlocked her car door and jumped in, speeding away. A venomous fear coursed
through her veins as she pressed the pedal, running lights, and whizzing around
corners. She parked her car in the lot and, looking over her shoulder
nervously, ran toward her apartment.

Nadia
nearly fell as she stumbled up the steps to the security door. She pulled it
shut behind her, fighting hysterical tears. She ran up the stairs to the second
floor apartment. “Mom,” she yelled as she entered the apartment. She slammed the
door and locked it.

“What
is it?” Helena called back.

“Oh,
thank God, you’re okay,” Nadia babbled. “There’s a man after me. He said he’s
going to kill you.”

“What
are you talking about?” Helena clasped her hands around her daughter’s hands.
“Is he
here
?”

“Nadia,
are you gonna come out or are you gonna make me come in?” Vincent’s bellicose
voice on the other side of the door made them both scream. “Believe me,” he
continued. “Once she’s dead, it’ll be so much easier to embrace who you really
are.”

“What’s
he mean?” Helena cried.

“Call
the cops, Mom.”

“They’ll
never get here in time,” Vincent taunted, slamming against the door.

Nadia
turned to face the kitchen. She crossed the room in three great strides and
ripped a carving knife from the knife rack. “Come on in, you asshole,” she baited.

The
doorframe splintered as Vincent plowed through the door and into the living
room. Helena cried out, the phone in her hand, as he plowed into the room

“Let’s
have some fun,” he beamed.

“Sounds
good.” Nadia lunged toward Vincent. She sank the knife into his ribs and jumped
back out of reach.

“You
fucking bitch, that fucking hurts. Whore. Fuck.” Vincent pulled the knife from
his ribs and dropped it to the floor. The knife clattered to the floor and
spun, spraying drops of blood in a circle. Blood stained his shirt and dripped
down onto his jeans and on the floor.

“What do
you want?” Helena begged.

“You’re
about to find out,” Vincent warned. His smile stretched as his eyes rolled back
in his head. Nadia and Helena stood, transfixed, as his face shifted under his
skin. The smile broadened, like his face was splitting in half from the inside.
His teeth protruded past his snarled lips. His whole body shook, as if electrified,
and he wailed.

“Mom,
we have to run.” Nadia grabbed her mom’s arm and dragged her toward the door.
Vincent struck out an arm toward them, but pain sent him to the floor. His back
hunched up suddenly, and his clothes began to rip. Nadia pushed her mother
through the doorway. Helena paused on the stairs to glance over her shoulder at
the snorting and growling. Nadia clutched her mother’s wrist and yanked, nearly
pulling her down the last few steps.

In the
parking lot, she ushered her mom toward the car. “Just get in,” she demanded as
Helena looked over her shoulder again. Nadia started the car. A howl ripped
through the night, echoing down the streets. Nadia gunned the engine, tearing
from the parking lot into the street without braking. Sparks flew as the car frame
ground on the curb. In the distance, Nadia heard police sirens, and her lips
curled in a relieved smiled as the scene receded in her rearview mirror.

Two
police cars arrived seconds after Nadia and Helena fled. Officers filed out and,
hearing the unidentifiable commotion coming from within the building, drew
their guns. The four stood, turning their heads from the door to look at each
other in quizzical silence. One took a step toward the door. He faltered as the
heaving breath of the beast beyond the door drew nearer.

A
mammoth shadow cast down the stairwell onto the glass of the front door,
backlit by the stairwell light. The officers raised their guns, and the one
that had moved forward took a frightened step backward. The standoff held and
seconds passed. Though traffic rumbled in the distance, and the transistors
crackled in the police cars, the street seemed noiseless to the officers. They
heard only their breathing and the breathing of whatever it was they couldn’t
see.

The
standoff ended as the beast plowed through the glass door. The shattering glass
bombarded the pavement. The two officers in the front felt shards slice their
skin, and they ducked, lowering their guns. As an officer fell, the werewolf
latched onto his chest, ripping ferociously before even a shot was fired. The
officer closest to the wounded officer fired twice before the beast swiped at
him and severed his hand from his body. The gun and amputated fingers scattered
across the pavement. He fell to his knees with an anguished scream as blood
spurted from the wound.

Rapid
gunfire began as the two remaining officers shot with no other thought than to
empty their clips into the monster. In another great bound, the werewolf launched
over the head of one officer, swiping down and across her face in the leap. She
crumbled to the ground, her head split open from jaw to hairline. The werewolf
landed on the hood of the cruiser. Steam burst from under the hood as the
engine belched and the hood crumpled under the force. A deep crack shot up the
windshield like lightning. The car rocked and bounced on its wheels.

The
fourth officer felt his finger continue to pull the trigger, but the gun only
clicked and he knew the cartridge was empty. His eyes met the green, angry eyes
of the beast that he had shot a dozen times. Blood-splattered lips pulled
across the muzzle in a snarl. The officer cried out as the beast lunged toward
him. He felt the weight of it hit him like a jacked-up linebacker. The back of
his head smacked the pavement, and he knew his skull had split open. The
werewolf snarled once again before burrowing its muzzle into the chest of the
officer. It ripped a mouthful of flesh free, and then bound off the officer and
down the street.

Jason ignored the light blinking on his phone. He had his Do
Not Disturb on for a reason, and his secretary generally knew better than to
trouble him when he did. His emotions—and what he found on Ilene’s computer had
weighed him down like wet clothes since last night. She had come in just
minutes after he closed her computer with dinner from a restaurant, and
apologized for being late.

Over dinner, her mood had been distracted, but undeniably
chipper, considering Jared’s death, and her talkative attitude had annoyed him,
made him grumpy. He was shocked when she announced that Alec and Lucy would be
coming by that night for dinner. The last few days had all been unnerving,
alienating—and then suddenly—a family dinner? He didn’t know what to think.

His secretary knocked and opened the door, and he could see
in her reaction how fiercely he must have looked at her. “Jason, I’m sorry to
disturb you, but some men are here to see you.”

“I don’t have any appointments on my calendar.”

“I know. They said it’s urgent, I thought, maybe...”

“Did they say what it’s about?” She shook her head. Jason
huffed. “Send them in.” The men entered a moment later, smiling beatifically.
The first thing Jason noted is that they both had green eyes similar to Alec
and Jared’s, and he tried to hide the flicker of recognition from his face.
“Gentlemen, how can I assist you?”

“I’m Nigel Rathborne and this is my associate David Roth,”
Nigel introduced. “I own a number of businesses, and I would like to retain you
as council.”

Jason furrowed his brow and leaned back in his chair. “You
came here to offer me a job?”

“We’ve had our eye on you for a long while,” Nigel
effervesced. “And we think you’re just the man we need.”

“Is that so?” Jason smiled indulgently. “So, tell me about
this offer.”

Gray
light gathered and settled across the trees and tombstones of the Garden of
Rest Cemetery as Ilene stood to leave. She balled and flexed her stiff, cold
fingers. Ilene dabbed her nose with a tissue as she looked across the gray
light shimmering through the bare tree limbs. She suddenly saw an honest beauty
in the empty stone benches and carvings.

Before
she left this morning, Ilene remembered Alec’s words, and she brought her camera.
Ilene walked to the car and, retrieving the camera, strolled through the
cemetery. She could feel her mind working in a way it had not in months:
looking at light and shadow, composition, seeing beauty in the world around
her. Ilene struggled with the justice in finding beauty when the world had turned
so ugly; she pushed down the guilt she felt for this small joy when her son was
ensconced in the ground so close by.

Ilene
kneeled near a tree, capturing the light that filtered through cold mist and
branches. She walked deeper into the cemetery. Seeing leafless vines cascading
down from an urn, Ilene snapped the medusa-like plant and pot. Weathered
carvings, headstones with the names nearly erased by time, ice gathering at the
bank or the small river winding through the cemetery—these all called to her.
She ignored the ache in her cold fingers as she wound her way through one shot
after another.

Across
the rows of tombstones, Ilene spied a stone mausoleum with leaded glass windows.
The grandeur spoke to her, and she plodded toward it. Her camera hung around
her neck and she rubbed her hands together to warm them. She stopped by the
long-forgotten mausoleum. Ilene cast her eyes across the structure in
amazement. Carved gargoyles of various sizes and monstrous appearance jutted
from the walls and roofline. In the entablature above the door was carved the
name Rathborne. Below the name was the inscription
Homo homini lupus est.
Ilene snapped a shot of the entablature. She circled the mausoleum, snapping
shot after shot of the monsters carved in the stone around the small tomb. When
she circled back to the front of the mausoleum, she noticed words scratched
into the steps of the mausoleum: monsters for a monster. The words—an act of
vandalism carved into the granite steps—were nearly faded away.

Back in
the car, grateful for the warm air blowing across her face, Ilene repeated the words,
“Rathborne. Monsters for a monster.” She looked at the picture of the
entablature and read, “
Homo homini lupus est.
What does it mean?” She would look it
up when she got home. The sky blazed red on the clouds behind her as she drove
through the cemetery gates.

*
         
*
         
*
         
*

In the
early morning hours, Alec had stopped driving in the western suburbs of
Chicago, and they had slept in yet another cheap motel. After sleeping in,
bathing, and grabbing lunch, they began their jaunt down Halsted through the
city. Alec drove as the car crawled along Halsted Street. The Sunday afternoon
traffic was heavy. He stretched his neck from side to side, trying to work out
some of the stiffness. Reaching a red light, he said, “Take another whiff of
that shirt. See if you can home in.”

With an
exaggerated eye role, Jared brought Maxwell’s shirt to his nose and breathed
in. “He’s in the same place as last I saw him. He was looking out large windows
and down on one of the statues.”

“Large
old windows or large new windows?” Lucy asked.

“New
I’d say.”

“Halsted’s
a long street.”

“But we
know it has to be on the section with the sculptures.”

“True,”
Alec conceded. “I wish we had a bit more to go on.”

“Sorry
I haven’t perfected my nose skills,” Jared grumbled.

Alec
turned his head with an apologetic smile. “It wasn’t a dig on you. Just
frustration.”

“Hey!”
Lucy shouted too loudly for a car. “What about that place?” She leaned into the
front seat pointing. Ahead of them was a six-story building with large windows
looking down on the street. One of the sculptures stood in front of the
building.

Jared
closed his eyes and sniffed the shirt. “I think that’s it.”

Alec cheered
and parked the car on the side of the road in the first empty spot he found.
“We need a plan.” He added, “I’m not going first this time.”

“I
think he’s expecting us,” Lucy said. “Remember what his mom told us.”

“He’s
expecting green-eyed monsters,” Jared corrected. “We have to convince him we’re
the good guys.”

“Let’s
just be straight forward and see what happens,” Alec suggested. “Seems like
that’s what worked with his mom. We’re dealing with some no-nonsense,
small-town Iowa folk.”

“I
appreciate your use of the word ‘folk,’” Jared affirmed.

“So
which apartment?” Lucy asked.

“We
know it’s this side,” Jared assured as he scanned the front of the building. He
pointed to a corner. “Second floor is my guess.” They crossed the street and
were lucky to enter the building with someone else who held the keyed door for
them. On the second floor, Jared sniffed the air. “Yep. This is it.”

They
stared at each other for a moment. “Oh, hell,” Alec resigned and knocked.

A
broad-shouldered woman with a crew cut answered. “Can I help you?” She asked,
though she didn’t sound like she meant it.

“We’re
here for Maxwell,” Alec said.

She
shrugged. “Wrong apartment.”

Jared
stepped forward. “Look, we’re friends. We know he’s in there.”

She
braced her body against the door. “I said, ‘wrong apartment’.” She slammed the
door.

“You
guys are smooth like whiskey,” Lucy mocked.

Alec
glared at his sister. “I didn’t see you stepping up.”

Lucy
knocked on the door. “Look, Maxwell, we know you’re in there.” She raised her
voice. “My name is Lucy, and we’ve been where you are now. They came for us
too. We can help you stop them.”

Inside
the apartment, Sue shifted her eyes from the door to Haley and Maxwell. “Are
they legit?” She whispered to him.

“I have
no idea,” he replied.

Lucy
spoke again. “You can look us up on the Internet. They burnt our house down
last year, nearly killed our parents. They killed our brother, and our
grandmother and our best friends. And my boyfriend. Please, at least listen to
me.” Lucy’s voice broke. She clenched her fists, fighting the sorrow that
suddenly racked her body.

“I’m
listening,” Maxwell called through the door. Haley grabbed his hand and Sue
nodded at him.

“I
think we have the same gift,” Alec called through the door. “You know when
things are going to happen, right?” Alec stepped closer to the door. “I used to
get really bad headaches first, but now that I’m not fighting it, the headaches
aren’t as bad.” Alec took a deep breath. “Maybe we can help each other. Learn
from each other?”

“How
did you find me?” Maxwell called.

“That’s
my gift,” Jared explained. “Call your mom. We stopped by. She believed us. And
we left her fine. She can tell you. Anyway, my gift is tracking.”

Silence
settled around them for a few minutes, and Alec, Jared, and Lucy thought they
had failed when they heard the deadbolt click. Maxwell eased the door open. “Sue
has a gun trained on you. If you try anything, she’ll blow your brains out.”

“Understood,”
Jared agreed. “Did you call your mom?”

“Yeah,”
Maxwell confirmed with an uneasy smile. He opened the door and waved them in.
He closed the door and followed behind them.

“Do you
want us to sit, stand—or what?” Lucy asked.

“So
what’s going on?” Sue demanded. “Why are you guys here?”

Jared
looked to the eyes of Sue and Haley then to Maxwell. “How much do they know?”

“Haley
knows about my gift.”

“What
do
you
know?” Jared asked.

“I know
somebody’s coming. I’ve known for a long time. I don’t know why.”

“Well—”
Jared began.

“Maybe
you guys are the ones who should sit down,” Lucy advised.

“Are
you just going to tell them?” Alec asked, grabbing Jared’s arm.

“You
said to be honest.”

“I
didn’t say to sound crazy.”

“What
for God’s sake?” Haley broke in.

Jared
turned to face them. “They’re after us because we’re part of an experiment.
Look at our eyes, Maxwell. We have your eyes.”

“You
also have my taste in shoes. What’s your point?”

Jared glanced
down at his red high top tennis shoes before continuing. “Each of us has a gift
that they want to harness.”

“What’s
her gift?” Haley asked, pointing at Lucy.

“Inappropriate
humor,” Jared joked. “She doesn’t have one. She isn’t one of us,” Jared pointed
from himself to Maxwell and to Alec.

“But
she has the eyes,” Maxwell countered.

“I do,”
Lucy acknowledged. “But I got them by accident.” She looked to Jared for help.

“You
said ‘
they
’ want to harness our
gifts. Who are
they
?”

“Like
the guy who attacked you.”

“How do
you know about that?” Sue asked.

“A
little thing called the Internet,” Alec said.

Jared
shot Alec a look to silence him. “We were looking Maxwell up and found the
story online.”

“So who
are they, and what is this experiment?” Maxwell asked.

“To be
honest,” Lucy cut in, “we wish we knew more than we do. We’re not sure what the
experiment is, exactly, but—”

“For
Christ’s sake, they’re werewolves,” Jared snapped. “If you think we’re crazy,
then think it.”

“Finally,”
Haley sighed. “I thought you’d never just say it.” She looked at Maxwell and
shifted her weight petulantly. “I told you that was a fucking werewolf that
attacked us.”

“Are
you guys serious?” Sue scoffed. She looked at Haley.

Haley
nodded.

“So you
guys know?” Alec asked. “You could’ve let us off the hook.”

“We had
to make sure you’re for real,” Maxwell said. “Besides, you two are kinda cute
when you squirm.”

Jared
rolled his eyes and Alec flushed a slight pink in the cheeks. “How long have
you known?” Jared asked.

“Since
you two walked in,” Maxwell deadpanned. He smiled. “Since the attack last
night. He basically changed in front of us. Well, we didn’t actually see it.”

“But it
wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” Haley sneered.

“I need
a beer,” Sue moaned.

“Oh! Me
too!” Haley trilled.

Maxwell
leaned toward Sue and smiled. “Please?”

“I’ll
bring the case,” Sue grumbled good-naturedly.

Maxwell
watched her leave the room and said, “So, we’re really putting her in danger,
aren’t we?”

“And
her.” Jared nodded to Haley.

“Who?
Me?” Haley sneered. “I’m from Chi-ca-go. The city. Not the suburbs. I use
bitches like you for bowling pins.”