The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy) by Adrian Lilly

a smile. Ilene
returned a frail smile as droplets slid down the window, obscuring her face.
She climbed from the car and hurried to the front door of Geraldine’s home.
    In the
months since Geraldine had passed, no one had the energy or heart to sell the
home that had hosted so many Christmases, Thanksgivings, birthday parties, and
treasured memories. Alec walked up behind his mother as she pushed the door
open.
    Cold
air rushed past them with a whoosh as Ilene shut the door. The house smelled
stale and dusty. Alec closed his eyes, recalling the scent of cookies and
dinners that haunted the house. “I miss her every day,” Alec said, turning to
his mother.
    “I
know. I do, too.” She placed a loving hand on his shoulder. She pulled away to
take of her coat, hat and gloves. As Alec took of his coat, Ilene walked to the
fireplace and plucked a ceramic figurine from the mantle. “You got her this when
you were six.”
    “I
remember.” He smiled at the memory. “For her birthday.” Alec sauntered into the
kitchen. He pictured Geraldine there, stooped over, pulling cookies from the
oven with the sweet-hot smell of baking pouring out around her. He looked to
the back door off the kitchen, which had been replaced after the night of the
attack. Alec turned his eyes away.
    “How’s
Dad?” He called as he walked back into the living room.
    Ilene
settled onto the couch and crossed her legs at the knee. “He’s working a lot. I
think it helps him cope with everything we’ve been through.”
    “How
are you coping?” Alec sat on the couch next to his mother.
    Ilene
shrugged. Her eyes filled with tears. “Do you ever visit Adam?”
    The
question struck Alec. Of course he thought of Adam every day. The ache of missing him became like a shadow, so much a
part of him he seldom thought of it, until in certain slants of light when it
grew long and overpowering. Alec simply accepted missing Adam as part of who he
had become. “I think of him every day. All the time,” Alec said, sitting next
to his mother. He took her hand. “I think of things he’d say. The way he’d
laugh. The way he would handle a situation.”
    “But do
you go to his grave?” Ilene asked, the tremble in her voice breaking Alec’s
heart. Ilene pictured Adam’s grave, always the wilted flowers she had placed
there awaiting her—never replaced in the intervening days with fresh flowers.
    “Mom, I
don’t feel like Adam’s there.”
    Ilene
nodded. “It’s easy for me to talk to him there.”
    “I
understand.” Alec swallowed hard. “I talk to him every day. Lucy and I—and
Jared—we talk about Adam and reminisce.
    “How is
Lucy? She’s so distant, now.”
    “She’s
quiet. She’s more stern. She’s hurting.”
    “I
know. I never hated Rene,” she said with the air of the confessional.
    “He did
it to protect us,” Alec said, before he realized what he was saying.
    Ilene’s
gaze caught him off guard, as if she had expected what he said. But she asked,
“What do you mean?”
    Alec
thought quickly. “The night Adam and I were attacked. He saved me. He just
rushed in—”
    “I
don’t think that’s what you meant.”
    Alec
stood. “Where do you think Grandma kept the mobile?”
    “Alec—”
Ilene stopped herself and stood. “You know you can tell me anything.”
    Alec
smiled. “I know.”
    Ilene
brushed Alec’s cheek and rested her hand on his shoulder. “How are things with
Jared?”
    “He’s
been so good to me—to both of us through this. He’s my rock.”
    “Good.”
Ilene walked down the hall toward the bedrooms. “He healed quickly from the
attack that night.”
    The
image of Jared, his arm shredded and hemorrhaging blood in the smoke-filled
basement flashed across Alec’s mind.
    “Go,” Jared said, “I’m
dying.”
    “The hell you are,
Kincaid.” Alec grabbed Jared by his good arm, ignoring his screams of pain. He
pushed his good arm to Lance. “Pull!” Alec grabbed Jared’s butt and shoved.
    “He