The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy) (12 page)

“Alec,
I know nothing I can say will ease the guilt, but I don’t blame you. Rene never
blamed you. And if you could ask Adam and Grandma, they wouldn’t blame you
either.”

Alec
nodded, though he didn’t turn toward them. He felt Jared’s hand rubbing his
back in gentle, reassuring circles. Alec spoke again, his voice thick with
tears, but clear. “We have to find them first. We have to stop others from
feeling what Jared and I feel.”

Jared
clasped Alec’s shoulder. “That’s why we’re here. And that’s what we’re gonna do
tomorrow.”

*
         
*
         
*
         
*

Lying
on the couch, Maxwell looked up from his phone as the nightly news blared the
musical notes indicating a special report. “And now, a story with a happy
ending,” the news anchor effervesced, her ultra-white digital smile beaming
through the television to Maxwell. He turned up the volume, thinking,
I could use a happy ending
.

“Jenna
Nichols, who has been missing from White Birch State Forest, has been found,
and is recovering in the hospital.” Maxwell hit the mute button as Haley
entered the small living room and flopped on the couch next to him. He said,
“They found that woman. The one that went missing from the state park.”

“Alive?”

“Yeah,
alive.”

“Who
expected that?” Haley asked rhetorically. “I guess there are some happy
endings.”

Maxwell
turned his attention back to the muted television, where a new segment was
beginning. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Haley
detested eating food from the diner, but the fridge was low, and Maxwell had
refused to go anywhere after work. He had ordered a daily special, meatloaf
with mashed potatoes and corn, and she had ordered a large cob salad and a
cookie for dessert. The smell of his food made her grimace. The food was good,
but she sometimes felt like she never got the smell of it off of her. She
looked across the small, old Formica table at Maxwell as he rubbed his temples.
“You okay?”

“Just
got a headache,” he said without opening his eyes. He had only nibbled at his
dinner.

“Look
up at me.” Maxwell looked up. Haley had her naturally blonde hair down,
cascading over her shoulders. Her large, inquisitive brown eyes were locked on
him. “This is my don’t bullshit me face.”

“I’m not,”
he insisted. “Look, that guy the other day left me rattled.”

“Why
not tell the police what you saw?” Haley broke off a piece of her cookie and
ate it.

“And be
seen as a crackpot psychic!” His voice rose in anger, but he stopped himself.
“Oh, never mind,” he dismissed.

“I hate
when you do that.”

“Odd. I
do it all the time and you’re still here,” he deadpanned.

Haley
glowered at him, knowing he used sarcasm anytime he didn’t want to talk about something,
which was often. “You can leave an anonymous tip. You don’t have to say it was
a
vision.
”

“The
way you stressed the word fills me with hope about this conversation.”

“Maxwell!”

“Haley!”
He mocked her tone. “What can I tell them? I don’t even know is name.”

“You
could describe him.” Haley leaned in, as if she were reaching the good part of
a scary movie.

“Yes,
that’s right. You’re looking for a psycho with smoldering green eyes.”

Haley
drew back with an offended gasp. “Green eyes? Like yours? You didn’t tell me
that.”

“I also
didn’t tell you I dropped your cookie on the floor. What’s your point?”

Haley
was about to lay into him, but a knock at the door made her pause. They both
turned their eyes to the door but didn’t move. “Are you expecting someone?” She
whispered.

He
shook his head, still looking at the door.

“Knock,
knock, little piggy, let me in,” a voice called through the door as the
knocking thumped through the door.

“Is the
deadbolt locked?” Maxwell whispered.

Haley
shook her head. Maxwell stood. Haley grabbed his arm to stop him, but he shook
free. He stepped away from the table, two hesitant, quiet steps.

“Come
on, Maxy, boy, we got a lot to talk about.”

Maxwell
froze. He turned to look at Haley, who cowered at the table. Maxwell raised his
hand to his ear, making the phone gesture. Haley nodded and dug in her pocket
for her phone. It slipped from her shaking hand, but she caught it before it
hit the floor. She grimaced an apology.

Maxwell
crossed the front of the small apartment and paused at the door. He pressed
against the wall, fighting the urge to look through the peephole. He knew, from
movies, that whoever was outside could see your shadow block the light. He
didn’t need to look; he recognized the voice.

He
reached for the deadbolt.

He
jerked his hand back as the door rattled with the force of pounding.

“I know
you’re in there, kiddo. Let me in, or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and get really
pissed the fuck off.” He slammed his hand against the door, making a framed
poster rattle on the wall. “It won’t be good for Haley if I get pissed off.”

Maxwell
grabbed the deadbolt and turned it, cringing as it clicked.

“Do you
really think a little lock’s gonna keep me out?” The voice snaked through the
door, taunting, almost comical in its thick sarcasm. “Don’t say I didn’t warn
you.”

Maxwell
backed down the hall, bumping into Haley.

“How’s
he know my name?” Haley whispered.

“I
don’t know. I’ve never seen him before today.”

A strange,
guttural groaning came from the other side of the door. They heard the man’s
breath quicken, his breathing harsh and loud, and suddenly, the breath no
longer sounded human. Haley clutched Maxwell’s arm. They stared at the door,
silent.

The top
of the door splintered as a large clawed hand ripped through the wood. Haley
and Maxwell screamed, transfixed, as the paw-like hand whacked through the door
again. The walls shook with the force of the hit, and the wood door cracked.
“My bedroom, quick!” Maxwell demanded.

He
shoved Haley in front of him, and didn’t look back as he heard the front door
splinter. He trampled in behind Haley, slamming his door, and slid the lock
into place. His eyes cut to his dresser. He dashed to it and began to shove.
Haley squeezed beside him, helping him scrape the dresser along the floor. They
both jumped back as the door was struck with so much force that paint chips
flew off. The top panel of the door splintered, and the dresser screeched as it
shook.

“The
fire escape,” Maxwell urged as he grabbed Haley’s arm. He rushed to the window
and thrust the sash up. Cold night air poured in. He looked down. They both had
bare feet, no coats, no hats—no time to think about it. Haley tumbled out onto
the fire escape, and Maxwell crawled through behind her.

Haley
slid down the metal steps, wincing at the cold metal on her bare feet. She
looked back up at Maxwell who was peering through the window. “Maxwell?”

Maxwell
heard Haley’s voice, only faintly, as he watched the bedroom door crumble. He
saw the beast for the first time, as it broke through the door and leaped over
the dresser into full view. Hunched, it was as large as a grizzly bear, but the
proportions were monstrous: an elongated snout, ears erect on its head, and
eyes that were neither canine nor human.

With a shriek,
Maxwell slid down the steps, almost crashing into Haley. “Runrunrun,” he
yelled. Haley cried out as the beast shattered the window and landed amid a
shower of glass on the fire escape. Broken glass rained down on them, and the
fire escape shook with the werewolf’s weight. She turned and half-stumbled down
the steps, not really seeing where she was landing. She hit the ladder to the
ground and screamed again as she slid down with it toward the ground.

Maxwell
landed on the ladder, feeling the beast almost on top of him. He grabbed the
sides of the ladder and slid toward the ground. Haley was half-way down the
alley, almost to the busy street. She cried out for help. He could see
passersby, illuminated by the bright lights in the street, hesitate, look at
her, unsure if they wanted to stop. Maxwell felt his legs pumping as he ran
toward the street; his chest heaved with the effort.

He no
longer heard the beast behind him and ventured a look over his shoulder.

The
alley was empty.

Maxwell
stumbled to Haley. A woman had stopped and was on her cell phone, calling the
police. Maxwell put his arms around Haley, and they sobbed on each other’s
shoulders as a small crowd gathered around them.

Jared
stared down the state route, rather blankly, his mind filled with apprehension,
as he drove the last 30 minutes toward Mary Snug. His mind reeled with all the
ways of approaching Mary and her son—whose name they didn’t even know—about the
danger. He pictured the three of them being carted off by the police after
warning Mary that werewolves were after her son.

The
gray morning light looked cold and dreary, and the overcast hurt his eyes. It
was almost 10 a.m. on a Saturday morning. They packed, ate breakfast, and hit
the road with nothing that really resembled a plan. They didn’t even know if
Mary would be home once they reached her house. At least, Jared thought, we
have her address.

Alec
and Lucy were quiet, and Jared wondered if they shared his fears. “So, is
anyone else feeling nervous?”

“You
bet.”

From
the backseat, Lucy said, “We should come up with some explanation. A story.”

“We
don’t even know his name. We can’t just call him Baby Boy Snug.”

“If
there’s a town library, maybe we can look up school yearbooks or something. How
many Snugs could there be?” Alec asked.

“I have
a thought. Maybe we should break into groups. So, say Jared strikes out—”

Jared
harrumphed in the front seat.

“Then I
can make an attempt. And then Alec?”

“You
don’t think she’ll find it odd that three strangers inquire about her son in
one day?”

“You’re
just bitter because I said you’d strike out, but I suppose you have a point.”

“What
about my library idea?” Alec performed a quick search on his phone. “The
library’s on Main Street.”

“I wish
we’d come up with a plan before we just jumped in the car and took off,” Jared
complained.

Lucy
sighed loudly in the backseat but didn’t reply. She looked out the window at
the snow dusted landscape. She knew Jared was right. She had demanded that they
run out half-cocked, not even considering a plan until they arrived at their
destination. The predicament only added more weight onto her clouded mind. The
grief, the anger, the frustration, and fear had taken such a toll. She often
felt she didn’t even recognize herself anymore. “You’re right,” she finally
said. “We’ll be more cautious the next time we chase down a pack member. But
we’re here now.”

Jared
could hear the weight in her voice. “I like your idea about approaching her
separately.”

“Look,
I get it. You two are the smart ones. But what about the library?” Alec
insisted.

Jared
turned his head to look at Alec, his face lit by a bemused, loving smile. “The
library’s a good idea.”

“I know
it is,” Alec replied with a cocky grin.

Jared
parked the car on Main Street. As he climbed from the car, he stopped to survey
the town. The wind whistled down the street as it rolled off the barren
cornfields. The town evoked Norman Rockwell Americana, but with some of the sheen
rubbed off. The entire downtown was no more than three or four blocks of one-
and two-story buildings. Parking lots rested here and there where buildings
once stood. The remaining buildings endured as stolid brick or clapboard
monuments to American practicality. Jared chased after Lucy and Alec who were
already entering the library.

Inside
the library, Alec made a beeline for the information desk. “Do you keep copies
of the local yearbook?”

The
woman behind the counter nodded enthusiastically and stood to show them the
way. “Are you former students?”

“Friends
of a student. We’re planning a surprise and wanted old photos.”

“Who?”
She asked cheerfully.

“Ah,
now that is a carefully guarded secret,” Alec said playfully.

The
librarian chuckled with amusement and left them to the shelves with old yearbooks.
After she left, Alec said, “So he’s two years younger than me?” He dug through
the yearbooks, took one, and handed one to Lucy and one to Jared. They sat at a
nearby table and began flipping through them. “Nothing,” Alec said after a few
minutes.

“I got
nothing,” Jared said.

“Nope,”
Lucy said.