Friends With The Monsters

by Albany Walker

  “I did not, never, Damiana. I may have omitted, but I’ve never lied to you, never will.”

  “It’s the same. You’re still responsible.” I turn my face away from him.

  A wave of anger crashes over me. I’ve been shunned by everyone who was supposed to love and take care of me. For what? They were scared of the little girl who could see auras and talk to monsters?

  I thought I was past all the hurt I felt for being isolated, but to find out that these three knew something about me, even checked up on me and never once made themselves known, has me dragging all my defenses up.

  Just like the wave of anger crashed into me, I use the same wave to push them away. “Get out!” I demand, and I can see Calix’s feet starts to slide backwards. Gunnar holds his ground for a second longer, but the door slams open and he loses traction. I don’t feel guilty at all as I watch his large frame go sailing out the door and land on the driveway.

  Calix’s reflexes are a little better. He turns with a smooth grace and bounds out the door, but the wind still lifts him at the last second and he crashes next to Gunnar on the driveway, then rolls onto all fours.

  Grim is the last one standing. His shirt is blown back, not leaving an ounce of doubt about his tight body beneath it. I focus on him and my long hair stirs. “I trusted you.” The anger in my voice can’t mask the hurt.

  “You still can, Dami, none of us would ever hurt you. We’re here to protect you.” He argues, but I’m far too mad to hear anything he has to say.

  “Leave, before I make you,” I growl.

  “I’m sorry, Damiana, we shouldn’t have…I should have—”

  “Get the fuck out of here now, before I rip open a portal and shove your ass through it,” I interrupt before he can finish. I doubt I could do something like that, but he doesn’t need to know.

  I can taste the sins from the other side of the portal. I don’t ask, I just take. Closing my eyes, I call the sins to me. There are so many I can’t distinguish one from another, I just take my fill. When I’m sated, I open my eyes to see Grim stepping backwards into the portal. “I’m sorry,” he manages to say before he disappears.

  I look out the still open front door to find Calix brushing off his pants with his eyes locked on me, while Gunnar is still picking himself up off the ground. “Get lost.” With the flick of my wrist, I slam my front door, sagging the moment they’re out of sight.

  “One thing at a time,” I mutter to myself. I can figure out what’s happening, one thing at a time.

  Chapter 13

  I didn’t get much sleep today. I spent most of the morning tossing and turning, then beating myself up from not keeping the three of them here and demanding answers. When I did finally fall asleep, I dreamed of Calix and his stupid rough tongue in places he never got to explore last night.

  “Stupid dreams,” I grouse, kicking my leg out.

  “What are you muttering about, and would you sit still?” the pale redhead across from me chides.

  “Nothing, sorry.” I force my leg to stop jerking.

  “Boy troubles?” Bloody Mary inquires. The fresh, bloody tears leaking from her eyes are dripping onto her already stained white blouse.

  I snort. “Maybe ten years ago, Mary. I’m thirty years old.”

  She waves her claw-like fingers at me, dismissing my words. “Men, boys, they’re all the same.”

  “True,” I concede.

  “So, tell me what’s bothering you.” Mary picks up a delicate teacup and brings it to her gnarled lips.

  I contemplate brushing the question off, but if I really want answers, I’m going to need to talk to someone. “Do you know Grim?”

  “The Grim.” She lowers her teacup slowly, not meeting my eyes.

  “Yeah. Big, black, showy cloak.”

  “I’ve heard of him, why do you ask?” Mary’s voice goes a little tight and high-pitched.

  “Well, he fed me when I was little, did you know that?” I don’t bother waiting for her to answer, I just keep going. “He never let me see him, so I didn’t know who he was until the other day, then he and two other people—” I wince, that doesn’t sound right. “Beings,” I amend, still not liking that term to describe them, “kind of let the cat out of the bag, saying they’ve been watching me. That there’s some bargain or deal that has something to do with me.”

  “You don’t say?” Mary fluffs the pristine, flowy white sleeves of her shirt, staring at her lap as she does.

  “I got mad at them and kicked them out last night before I got any answers about what they’ve been up to.” I start kicking my leg again. Mary is acting dodgy.

  “Kicked him out, you say? You kicked Grim out?” Mary says the words slowly, like she needs to taste them to see if they’re true.

  “Yup, I told him I was going to shove his ass through a portal.”

  Mary’s eyes bulge. “Oh my,” she gasps, and brings one claw-tipped hand up to her breast as if I’ve offended her delicate sensibilities.

  I let out a little snicker. It’s funny to watch a woman with blackened, sunken eyes that bleed and who has a slashed-up mouth look affronted. “That’s just…” Mary shakes her head slowly, like she can’t believe it. “And he just let you talk to him like that? The Grim?” She leans in a little closer when she says his name, as though she doesn’t want to say it too loudly.

  I chuckle at that. “I didn’t give him much of a choice, Mary.”

  “Oh my,” she says again, and looks around like he might pop out at any moment.

  “So, got any info on this deal they were talking about?” I ask her point blank. It seems like everyone in my life has answers but me.

  “I do not,” she states firmly. I narrow my eyes at her. I don’t think she’s lying, but what if my senses don’t work as well on my friends? I’ve always just trusted my instincts, but now I’m doubting myself, and I don’t much like it.

  “Another cup of tea, Mary?” I query, when she starts to fidget with her shirt sleeves again.

  “I really shouldn’t. I need to get going,” she refuses.

  “But…” I look at the clock, which shows me it’s only a little after midnight. “You usually stay longer.” I stand as she does. Mary smooths down her blood-soaked bodice as if she’s making sure it’s presentable. How the stains never get anywhere but the front of her dress, I’ll never know.

  “You know what they say: it’s three o’clock somewhere.” Her smile is brittle.

  “Yeah, sure.” My voice comes out flat. If Mary notices, she doesn’t let on. Instead, she excuses herself to the powder room and closes the door without bothering with the light. Mary travels through the mirror. I may not know how all my friends arrive at my home, but I know how she does.

  “Well, she was in a hurry to get out of here,” I mutter, picking up her teacup and saucer to take to the kitchen.

  The doorbell chimes, and it startles me. I have to scramble to catch the cup from tipping off the saucer and crashing to the floor.

  I place it back on the table and head toward the door. There are only a few people it could be, and I thought I scared them away yesterday. I expect the bell to chime again, but the person on the other side is much more patient than Gunnar was yesterday.

  I can hear a shushed argument as I approach the door. “Ring it again,” Gunnar demands.

  “No, you fool, she’s coming,” Calix replies harshly.

  “Shut up, the both of you,” Grim intones.

  I open the door and lean against it. “Back so soon?” I don’t want them to know I’m actually happy they’re here. Now I can demand some answers.

  “May we come in?” Grim requests for the group.

  I narrow my eyes. “You’ve never asked before,” I remind him.

  He meets my stare. Waiting. I huff, but step back from the door and roll my wrist out in an invitation for them to enter. “I’m warning you, you better have come prepared to tell me what’s going on, or you’ll end up on your keisters, just like last n
ight.”

  Gunnar pushes his way to the front, shoving past Calix, and reaches the door first. “Of course, my lady,” he croons at me.

  “You can stop all that shit.” I wave my hand at him, encompassing his whole body. “I’ll be thinking and acting with more than just my lady bits, thank you.” I make sure to give Calix a good glare too.

  Grim makes a sound close to a choking cough. I’m tempted to slap him on the back a few times, but I don’t want to touch him. He replaced the sheer black shirt with a fitted black tee, but I already know what he’s hiding beneath it, and I did just promise not to let my vag lead the way.

  I plant my hands on my hips when everyone makes it into the foyer. “So, what kind of conversation is this going to be?”

  “What do you mean?” Grim looks at the others.

  “I mean, is it a ‘hey, I’m really your dad and I’ve come to collect you and take you back to the underworld, because some miscreant stole you from my loving arms’ kind of a story?” Please don’t let that be the case. If I find out I’m lusting after my dad, I might just hurl. That’s a little twisted, even for me. “Or is this a ‘you were supposed to be dead, and we’ve come to kill you’ kind of thing? I’d like to know before I decide what room to take you guys to.”

  Calix blinks at me several times. “Are we sure this is the right time?” he eventually asks, but he’s not talking to me, he’s asking Gunnar and Grim.

  “Don’t be a pussy,” Gunnar snaps, and takes a step in front of the group. His face softens a bit, reminding me of the man who woke up on my bedroom floor instead of the bossy jerk from the club.

  “I told you to knock that off.” I waggle my finger at him.

  “What?” He looks around. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Yes, you are, and you know it. Trying to be all cute and shit.” I cross my arms over my chest and give him a disgusted sneer.

  Gunnar’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “I don’t even know what to do with that comment. I’ve never been accused of trying to be cute.” He sounds completely baffled.

  “Any room of your choosing will do fine, Damiana,” Grim supplies, ignoring Gunnar and his exasperation.

  Calix nods his head. “This isn’t bad news, Damiana.” He looks to the others for confirmation, but no one else agrees with him.

  “If I mess up my kitchen, I’m kicking your asses… I’ll...” I look at them, coming up short for threats.

  “Yes, yes. Anything you’d like,” Grim agrees without me finishing. I give him the side-eye, but head down the hall toward the kitchen. I think I need some hot chocolate for this. And I’m not even going to offer them any. Ha!

  “Ha, what?” Calix looks around like he missed the joke, and it’s then I realize I must have said part of my thoughts out loud.

  “I’m not going to make you any hot cocoa.” I give him a sinister smile, as if it’s the most horrible harm he could suffer.

  “Ooookaaaay.” He eyes me. “Is that code for something else?” he questions, not understanding what an amazing experience he’s about to miss.

  “No, you’ve just never had my hot chocolate.” I strut into the kitchen, waving my hand at the bar stools lined up opposite the stove under the island. Funny how perfect all three of them look lined up there. Oh, how I do love a captive audience. I start to spin on my heel to grab my pot, but stop myself. I want to get them talking. In my experience, when I ask the hard questions, everyone suddenly has some other place they need to be.

  “You guys are staying until all my questions are answered, right?” I regard the three of them.

  “That could be a long—” Gunnar starts, but Calix reaches over and swats his arm.

  “Yup, we’ll stay until all the questions are answered,” Calix offers instead.

  “Unless one of us is called away,” Grim adds. “We each have duties where our presence may be required, but if that should happen, the others would stay.” Grim nods to the two other men.

  “Agreed,” Calix and Gunnar both declare at once.

  “Spooky. It’s almost as if you guys have done that before.” I pick up my wooden spoon and pot to get started.

  It doesn’t take much focus to make the drink—I’ve done it countless times—but I wait until all I have to do is stir before urging them to begin.

  “Who’s going to start talking?” Each of them takes turns looking at the others. “Well, someone has to. How about you?” I point my chocolate covered spoon at Gunnar, then at the other two. “They said you broke the covenant, or whatever, by showing up here.”

  Gunnar makes a sour face and glares at Grim and Calix. “A long time ago—”

  “When?” I demand interrupting him.

  “About thirty-one years ago,” he supplies, not sounding very happy, “it was decided that we would be your guardians.” He opens his hands on the island like ta-da, that’s all there is to the story.

  I continue stirring my hot cocoa. “First, why would I need guardians, and second, where the hell were you?” I shout the last part of the question, letting the spoon go; it continues on the circular path for a few moments then stops.

  Other than the sound of my breathing, the room is silent. Grim licks his lips. “We also decided that we would be your guardians from afar,” he explains slowly, his voice just loud enough to be heard, as if he’s worried that he’s going to set me off.

  “Which one of you assholes thought that was a good idea?” I accuse all three of them.

  “It was a mutual decision, one that wasn’t made easily,” Grim continues, his voice calm.

  I flick off the burner on the stove, no longer in the mood for hot chocolate. “So, let me get this straight. You three were charged to be my guardians and thought the best way to do that was to dis-a-fucking-ppear from my life. Only, this idiot almost gets himself killed and somehow ends up bleeding to death on my bedroom floor.”

  My statement doesn’t really require an answer, but Gunnar gives me a resounding, “Yes,” with a head nod included just in case I don’t get the verbal reply.

  “I wish I drank, ‘cause I could use something right now.” I glance up to the ceiling, asking for patience. “Okay, let’s come back to that idiocy in a minute. Tell me why I need guardians.” I plant my hands behind me on the counter.

  “Well…” Calix looks at the others. “Well, you see, you could think of us like family.” He winces as he says “family”, and his palms flip up as if he’s at a loss for words.

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Fucking hell, so you guys are like my dads or brothers or some shit?” I can’t even look at them. I’m going to have to accept the fact that I’m a twisted bitch.

  Several noes resound through the room, some louder than others.

  I peek up through my fingers. “I think I need to sit down.” I walk away then, expecting them to follow.

  I drop into my cushy sofa, ignoring the fact that Calix had his hand up my shirt in this room less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you guys suck at this? I mean, really, who put you in charge of being my guardians? Seems kind of irresponsible.” I purse my lips to show my distaste.

  “Guardians are appointed when a soul decides to be born on this plane,” Grim states, trying to rein in the conversation.

  “Wait, so you’re saying I chose to be born here?”

  “You did,” Calix answers.

  “Well, that was stupid,” I scoff.

  “No, it wasn’t, but when you were born here, it changed some things,” Grim supplies.

  “Like what?” I tilt my head to the side and study him. He looks about the same age as I do. As a matter of fact, they all do. None of my monster friends age, so they probably don’t either.

  “Well, once you were born, things shifted. We’re no longer just your guardians.” Gunnar takes a seat in one of the chairs.

  “So, you have other charges—people you watch out for?” Suddenly, maybe this isn’t so bad, maybe they didn�
�t abandon me like my family did. They had more than just me to worry about.

  “No,” Calix states, speaking up again.

  My brow furrows. “Then what do you mean?” I’m getting angry again. “Just spit it out.”

  “Once you were born, the connection between us changed. We all felt it.” Grim draws in a deep breath.

  “And?” I prompt.

  “Occasionally, the connection between a guardian and their ward can shift, forming a bond, if you will.” Grim’s face is almost blank. He’s speaking as if he’s reciting information from a textbook.

  “So, what does that mean?” I question again, casting my eyes over all three of them.

  “It’s why we all agreed not to involve ourselves in your life,” Calix adds, while prowling around the edge of the room. He throws a narrow-eyed glance at Gunnar, who completely ignores him.

  “Well, that’s just stupid.” I snort.

  “Just fucking tell her!” Gunnar barks. His eyes are a little wild, and his chest is expanding with every breath.

  “Is this the whole Berserker thing?” I ask Grim, jerking my thumb in Gunnar’s direction, indicating his outburst.

  “Berserkers can be unstable,” Grim agrees easily.

  “I am not unstable, you asshole, and you know it,” Gunnar spits.

  “Listen, Kitten, we only have room for one drama queen, and that’s me, thank you very much. So take it down a notch, will ya?” I pat the sofa next to me, indicating he should come over and take a seat. “Jeez, you’re acting like you’re the one who’s been kept in the dark your entire life.” I roll my eyes. “Continue,” I order Grim, since he seems to be the only one actually providing information.

  Gunnar stalks over and throws himself down on the sofa. I hear an audible sigh leave him once he’s settled.

  “While the bond does happen occasionally, it usually only happens between one of the guardians and the ward, typically after spending years together. However—”

  “You use a lot of transitions. Are you stalling?” I interrupt Grim. “It kind of seems like you’re stalling.”