The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy) (7 page)

“What
do you suggest?”

Maxwell
felt the pain behind his eyes shooting down his limbs, like a tuning fork,
struck against the table. “The daily special. It’s an omelet.”

“No.” The
man smiled. “I want something sweet and sticky. Pancakes. Lots of whip cream.”

“It’ll
just be a few minutes.” The words fell out of Maxwell’s mouth in a jumble as he
turned away from the table.

Haley
stopped him as he entered his order. “You look sick. What’d he do?”

“I
feel
sick. He’s—I don’t know.
Something’s wrong.” Maxwell finished entering the order and darted away from
the counter into the back of the diner. He entered the storage closet, pulling
the door shut behind him as he caught his breath. The headache was now raging.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Images flooded his mind of the man at
the table—with a woman—in a car. The woman was frightened. She fought with the
handle to the car door and fell out. Maxwell could feel her fear.

And the
man’s desire. The desire to taste her blood.

“Fuck,”
Maxwell mumbled.
Why does this happen to
me?

Haley
waited for him as he exited the storage closet. “He left.”

“What?”

“That
customer. He just stood up and left. I think he paid. He dropped something on
the table.”

Maxwell
pushed past Haley. He hesitated just a moment at the table. Two dollars lay on
the top, but he could see that a piece of paper was under the money. He
unfolded the paper and read the text scribbled on it: You can run. But you
can’t hide.

“What
is it?” Haley asked over his shoulder.

Maxwell
shoved the note in his apron. “His number. Guess I scared him off.” He faked a
smile, but he could tell Haley saw through it.

Maxwell
turned away from her quickly, and images on the television tucked in the corner
of the diner caught his eye. He walked closer to the television to hear the
news report. “An update on the story that began yesterday with a grisly
discovery in White Birch State Forest. It started when Darrin Nichols, of Birch
Grove, went in search of his wife, Jenna Nichols, who was out for her morning
jog,” the reporter on the television fired off the lead-in with an emotionless
urgency. Maxwell tapped Haley as the reporter continued the story. Behind the
reporter, Maxwell could see the woods and the yellow police line tape snapping
in the wind. “Instead of finding his wife, he found Rebecca Kemper who was
badly injured.” They flashed a picture of Rebecca. “Jenna Nichols is currently
missing.” Maxwell watched as a photo of Jenna Nichols appeared on the screen.
“We’ll keep you up-to-date as the story unfolds.” Maxwell turned away from the
television as the local Chicago news report ended.

“Haley,”
he whispered to her. “That woman, Rebecca. That guy who was just here? He’s the
one who hurt her.”

“How do
you know?” She asked, but her voice told him she already knew.

“I got
a flash from him. But I saw him with
her
.”

“I wish
you could tell the police.”

Maxwell
put his hand up and walked away.

Jared
paced around the table, looking at the stacks of papers. The idea that useful
information lay just outside his grasp was maddening. He pinned so many hopes
on the pages: a cure for Lucy, the names of the rest of the pack, the
werewolves’ plan. All the answers could be coded in the pages, and he could not
decipher the message. The frustration filled him with an energy that he had to
defuse, and so he paced. And paced.

And the
night of the full moon only made it worse.

He and
Alec had noted that leading up to the full moon Lucy became agitated, restless.
What they couldn’t figure out was whether it was a direct result of the impending
change or just her own anxiety over what was to happen.

Tonight
would be spent in the basement of an abandoned building, so Jared relaxed with
a long bath. He sipped herbal tea as he double checked that everything they
needed for the night was ready: tent, flashlights, restraints, lock, food, and
hot drinks.

Designing
their lives around the full moon proved harder than they had expected. Alec and
Jared stayed the night in the bank building with Lucy every full moon, meaning
that they, too, had to schedule everything around the moon. Jared didn’t see
the act as a sacrifice; he saw it as precaution. Since he and Alec did not know
their triggers, if one of them suddenly began to change from the full moon, at
least it wasn’t happening in public.

Jared
sat back down at the table, the files of coded information in front of him,
waiting for Alec to return from Geraldine’s house and for Lucy to return from a
meditation class. She liked to focus on relaxation before a transformation as
much as possible. She hoped, that if something did happen, like the door giving
way, she would have at least a modicum of control over the beast.

But
Jared doubted it.

He
recalled that night with Rene at the barn in the country. Rene loved Lucy more
than life. He cared for Alec so much that he tried to save him from a
werewolf—yet he chased them with no intention but shredding them. Jared was
convinced that those infected had no control, like a rabid dog.

Darius—he
knew—had been another story. Somehow, Darius maintained some control over his
beast. Darius’s desires, even his cognition, appeared in the werewolf. The
question ate at Jared: What was special, different about Darius that allowed
him to retain part of himself—and more importantly, would he and Alec be
similar?

Jared
heard footsteps at the front door, and then heard a key slide in the lock. He
stood from the table and walked down the hall. He smiled at Alec as he entered.

“I got
it,” Alec said.

Jared
walked toward him as he spoke. “Do you think it’ll work?”

“Yes.
Yes.” Alec dropped his coat on the couch and walked past Jared into the back
room. Alec eyed the Meredith Stone.

Jared
walked up behind Alec. “Should we see if it works?”

“Yes.
I’m nervous.”

“Me,
too.”

Alec
walked to the Meredith Stone and lifted it. “Here, hold it,” he said to Jared,
handing him the stone. Jared cupped his hands around the stone. Alec draped the
mobile over the stone. The spiral of the mobile snaked around the facets of the
stone until every image on the stone and mobile aligned. “I think we have our
decoder.”

“I
think you’re right,” Jared said, his voice breaking with excitement. “Let’s start
writing down the translation. Then we can try a paragraph to see if it works.”
Jared set the stone draped in the mobile on the table and reached for paper and
pencil. “Good job.”

Alec
nodded, silent.

“How
was it?” Jared asked, putting down the pencil.

“Hard.”

Jared
stood and stepped over to Alec, taking him in his arms. “I’m so sorry—in my
excitement—I wasn’t even thinking.”

Alec
cried softly on Jared’s shoulder. Jared held him, allowing Alec to expel the
grief. The compassion in Jared’s arms comforted him, and he felt safe. After a
few moments, Alec wiped his eyes clumsily and pulled back. “I feel so stupid
for crying.”

“Don’t.”

“It’s
just—hard—being in my grandmother’s house. Hard, seeing my mother so sad, so
broken.”

“It
takes time. I know.”

Alec
placed his hand to Jared’s cheek tenderly. “I know you do.” Alec looked into
Jared’s eyes. Over the last few months, despite everything that they shared,
Jared had said little about the night his own family died, and about his
survival and coping afterward. Though he was curious about Jared’s family, Alec
didn’t pry, thinking Jared would tell him more in time. Alec knew his own
trauma; he didn’t intend to make Jared relive his.

“I love
you,” Alec said, placing his lips to Jared’s.

Jared
returned the kiss, pulling Alec tighter. “I love you, too.” He could feel that
rush of excitement that came each time he held Alec close, the internal
shivering of his nerves just from touching Alec’s flesh.

Alec
pulled back from the kiss. “We better work on this,” he said, nodding to the
stone and mobile. Alec cut his eyes down. “But those pants sure do show me how
much you liked that kiss.”

“Funny,”
Jared said, adjusting the fabric of his pants. “Let’s decipher this.” He sat
back at the table with Alec beside him, and they began the arduous task of
translating the runes.

Lucy
sat on the floor in a cross-legged, quarter Lotus position in the quiet
mediation room at her gym. Mediating early in the day on the night of a full
moon had become a ritual. She had no sense whether the meditation had any
effect on the change, but it certainly helped quell her anxiety leading up to
it. The peace was fleeting, but the willpower demanded to achieve a state of
peace left her drained.
 
She simply
didn’t have the energy to wallow in worry, pacing like a caged animal, as she
considered herself prior to the change.

Meditating
in the throes of the change was impossible. The rage of the transformation, the
burning of her skin as it began, knocked her over. The last she ever remembered
was screaming as she felt her body turning against her.

Lucy
took a deep, measured breath—pushing the poisonous thoughts out of her mind. The
gentle bubbling of the water feature and her breathing were the only sounds as
she relaxed her mind and body. She focused on breathing deep, trying to force
out the dread that filled her. She could feel her mind releasing its grip as
her body relaxed, muscle by muscle. The dark thoughts receded with each breath
and a tremulous calm descended on her.

She
heard the door to the meditation room open with a quiet whoosh and thought,
Damn
. She realized anyone coming in
would also seek quietude, but she hated sharing the room on the night of a full
moon. She peeked an eye open.

Mitch
sat across from her, already seated, eyes closed. Just seeing him annoyed her.
Lucy told herself that she was being ridiculous, that he was allowed to
meditate as much as she was. But she couldn’t help but feel that he came in
just to steal this quiet moment from her. His absolute silence bothered her
even more.
He’s supposed to be quiet!
She told herself. But, in her mind, it felt like he was sneering.

Lucy
opened her eyes and, despite herself, huffed as she stood.

“Don’t
let me interrupt you,” Mitch said, his eyes still closed.

“You
didn’t,” Lucy said. It annoyed her even more that he assumed he was chasing her
off. She felt the heat flushing her cheeks and knew, although she couldn’t
control it, that the full moon was playing a role in her anger.

“It
just seems that as soon as I enter a room, you try to leave.”

“Then
why do you come in?”

“So, I
am chasing you off?”

“No!”
Lucy barked.

Mitch’s
eyes popped open and his body went rigid. He was silent.

“Look,
I just have a lot on my mind, Mitch. And, before you ask, you’re not the type
of person I confide in.”

“Type
of person? What
type of person
am I?”
He asked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Lucy
could feel the conversation spinning out of control. Yet, she felt powerless to
control the rage bubbling under her skin. “Just, you know,
that
type.”

“No.
Tell me. How do you see me, Lucy Rune. I gotta know your
feelings
.”

“You
want to know? I think you’re a self-entitled, overgrown frat boy meathead.
That’s what I think.” Lucy stomped toward the exit.

“Please
walk quietly in the meditation room,” Mitch said, pointing to the sign on the
wall.

Lucy
glared at him venomously and shoved through the door. As it swooshed angrily,
swinging back and forth in her passing, Mitch smiled, and then closed his eyes,
to enjoy the solitude.

Lucy
was fuming as she entered the apartment. Mitch stole any relaxation she’d
gained from meditation. She slammed the door harder than she meant to, making a
picture on the wall rattle. She looked at the crooked picture, only getting
angrier.

In the
back room, after hearing the door slam, Alec looked up from his work and arched
his eyebrow at Jared. Jared smirked, knowing Lucy’s mood during full moons. He
hoped their news would improve her spirits.

“I hate
him,” she griped as she burst into the back bedroom.

“Mitch
the Bitch?” Alec asked.

Lucy
smiled. She loved that Alec always referred to him as Mitch the Bitch. “Yes. He
ruined my meditation.”

“How’d
he know you were there?” Jared asked, looking up from the papers spread in
front of him. Lucy was so wrapped up in her frustration that she didn’t notice
the mobile draped over the Meredith Stone.