Friends With The Monsters

by Albany Walker

  “Touching—there should be no touching,” Gunnar responds quickly.

  “Now, wait just a damn minute.” I shake my head and focus on Gunnar instead of Grim’s tight ass in his dark jeans. “I’m a tactile person. I happen to likey the touchy.”

  “I agree. Why should we hold ourselves back for you?” Calix sneers at Gunnar.

  “How about because if I see you touch her, I’ll rip your fucking arms off. Would that work as enough of a deterrent?” Gunnar takes a step toward Calix, who just stands his ground like he’s not at all intimidated.

  “You could try, Viking.” Calix smiles darkly, and I see the tips of his very sharp, very inhuman teeth. Damn, that shouldn’t be sexy.

  “I said no fighting,” I call out, even though there’s some part of me that would like to watch these two go at it.

  Gunnar drops his arms to his sides, but his fists are still balled up. “Then a schedule, perhaps,” he suggests through his teeth.

  I snicker, then cover my mouth when they all look at me. “You wanna schedule touch time?” I burst out laughing at the absurdity of it.

  “We could schedule alone time.” Grim tilts his head. “After all, there are times each of us must be away, when our duties can’t be avoided.”

  Calix leans against the counter on his elbows with a wide grin on his lips. “Not me—I’m free and clear. I’ll always be around.” He winks at me and I get a little fluttery feeling in my stomach. My hand covers the spot—what was that? I scowl to cover how uncomfortable the feeling made me and spin on my heel, facing the opposite direction.

  “How did you manage that?” Gunnar asks incredulously.

  “You may have visited her and left rocks, but I’ve been preparing. I knew this day would come, and I wanted to make sure I could make up for lost time,” Calix hedges, with a hint of cockiness in his tone.

  “Well, that’s bullshit. I can’t get out of my commitment.” Gunnar looks around as if there might be someone he could appeal to.

  I settle myself back on the stool. Watching them interact is entertaining. I usually only have myself for company, and maybe one visitor a night if I’m lucky. This is like watching reality TV, but so much better.

  “What commitment? To the witches?” I question, wishing I could eat popcorn. This would be the perfect time for popcorn.

  Grim casts Calix a distrustful glance. “I, like the Berserker, have obligations. I must come and go,” he admits.

  “Don’t worry, boys, I’ll take real good care of her.” Calix doesn’t bother to hide the leer he’s tossing in my direction.

  “Hurry up and put the rest of this away so we can go back into the living room. Then you guys can tell me about your commitments.” I give the word a little extra dark flare for emphasis.

  “Give me two minutes, and I’ll be done.” Calix leans away and gets right back to work, shoving groceries into the fridge and freezer.

  “I’ve warned you about bragging about your speediness.” I waggle my finger at him jokingly.

  Calix looks over his shoulder with a sultry, traffic-stopping grin. “If I would have moved a little faster the other night, we might already be rid of these two.” I can tell by the gleam in his eye that he’s joking. If anyone would be okay with sharing, I know it would be Calix. He’s already said he likes an audience. I glance over at Gunnar and burst out laughing. He looks like he swallowed a lemon, and that just makes the mental picture of him watching Calix and me even more comical. Nobody asks why I’m laughing.

  I pat Gunnar’s firm bicep on the way to the hall. “Come on, I want to hear about the creepy witches, and why you work for them.”

  “With them,” Gunnar immediately corrects me.

  “With them.” I roll my eyes, agreeing.

  Chapter 16

  “So, you’re some kind of watchdog.” I settle back into the couch. Gunnar is next to me, making it hard to pay attention to his words, instead of the thickness of his thigh.

  Gunnar purses his lips, thinking. “I make sure they don’t get reckless or too power hungry.”

  “Uncle told me that witches steal their power from people like us. You let them do that?” I watch Gunnar for his reaction.

  “No.” He shakes his head vehemently. “That’s exactly why I keep an eye on them: to make sure they aren’t doing shit like that.”

  I look over at Grim, wondering if I should ask to talk to Gunnar alone. I don’t want to embarrass him or get him in trouble. The blasé look on Grim’s face doesn’t give me any answer.

  “You haven’t been doing your job, Berserker,” Grim states. I gape at him a little.

  Gunnar turns his head slowly and examines Grim, who is seated in the chair directly across from me. “What did you say?”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Gunnar,” I call his name before he can rail at Grim, who would probably be completely unaffected by Gunnar’s outburst. “The witch I ran into at the club—the male witch? He was dirty. Tasted like death.” I glance at Grim again. “No offense, because you don’t taste like death; you always bring me yummy treats.” Grim lets the tiniest grin slip over his mouth before he regains his stoic bearing.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Gunnar snaps at Grim.

  “I’m talking about the dead Kappa whose soul I carried last week, and the Lämpmen the week before. It’s been happening for the last several months.”

  Gunnar looks down, and I can see his eyes tracking from left to right. “How could that be? Where did this happen?”

  “Far from here, but getting closer,” Grim divulges.

  Calix comes strutting in through the door but slows once he assesses the mood of the room. “What did I miss?” He looks between us.

  “I need to go,” Gunnar announces, standing. He faces me, his hands already balled up into tight fists, his shoulders bunched with tension. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Can you tell me about the witch from the club: his name, what he looked like, anything?”

  I search my mind, but he was just another face. “He wasn’t one of the people Vanessa was having her meeting with or whatever. He was just a guy—nothing special about him except how he felt, and his aura, which was oily.” I grimace, wishing I could give him more.

  Gunnar nods his head jerkily. “I’ll find out what’s going on.” With a swiftness I would expect from Calix, Gunnar leans down and steals a kiss from my lips. He’s gone in the next second, literally disappearing right before my eyes.

  I blink several times, wondering if I somehow missed something. “You broke the no-touching rule!” Calix shouts into the air as if Gunnar can still hear him.

  “Seems like we have a mystery afoot, Watson.” I rub my hands together, mostly to distract myself from wanting to touch my lips where Gunnar just planted one on me.

  “Let’s hope the Berserker doesn’t get in over his head.” Calix frowns. “How did you cross paths with the witches?”

  I curl up on the couch. “I went to the club to find Gunnar and ran right through a witch’s ward, apparently. I honestly never even knew they were real before that.”

  Calix takes a seat near me on the couch, and his arm goes to the back as he turns his body toward mine. I like the way he gets close to me without demanding it. It’s almost subtle.

  Grim is watching us from the chair, I can feel his eyes on me. “Would you recognize the witch if you saw him again, or the feeling he gave you?” Grim inquires.

  “I would, now that I know what I’m looking for.” A slow grin builds on my lips. “Why, did you want to go to Rumors and see if we can find him?”

  “The Berserker would hate it—we should go.” Calix doesn’t bother to hide the delight he would get from pissing off Gunnar.

  “You have been using a lot of energy,” Grim comments.

  I catch on immediately. “I am feeling rather peckish.”

  “A girl’s gotta eat. Let’s go.” Calix pops up from the sofa and grabs my hand to bring me with him.

  I look down at
my yoga pants and slouchy t-shirt. “I need to change. I’ll only be a few minutes.” I take off upstairs to change, pulling my shirt off as I hit the third-floor landing. I want to look hot, but I don’t have a lot of time. Scanning my closet, I get an idea when my eyes land on a pair of black, calfskin leather pants. “Too easy,” I mutter, while unclipping them from the hanger.

  Ten minutes later, I’m hopping down the stairs with a heavy pair of Doc Martens on my feet. “Ready!” I call out when I don’t see Grim or Calix. “They better not have left me.”

  “Not a chance,” Calix announces, as he comes around the corner with what looks like a chicken leg gripped in his hand. His eyes scan my bright teal bra which shows beneath my mesh shirt, then move down to my low-rise leather pants. “Pretty, pretty bird.” He licks his lips before taking a huge bite out of the meat in his hand.

  Grim walks in behind Calix and separates himself from the other man by stepping a few feet to the left. “Would you like me to get you a cloak?” His eyes scan my body, too, the little rivers of ember bleeding into the sooty ash color of his eyes.

  I do a little spin. “Are you worried I’ll get cold?”

  “Not especially,” Grim deadpans. I love how he can look and sound so completely unaffected, but his eyes tell an entirely different story.

  Calix wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “It would be a sin to hide that beauty under a cloak, so keep the robes for yourself, Death.” Calix extends his elbow to me after pitching what’s left of the chicken leg into the trash bin. “I wanna show off my queen.”

  “I’m not anyone’s queen, but I love giving a good show.” I look up at Calix from under my eyelashes.

  “You want to ride…or drive?” Calix pours as much innuendo into those six words as possible while he gazes down at me. I like how his reaction to me is so completely at odds with Grim’s. With the three of them around, I’ll never get bored.

  “Driving…shit! I only have a two-seater.” I pause and pull my hand from Calix’s inner elbow.

  “I can handle transportation.” Grim comes up behind me, invading my space, but I certainly don’t mind.

  “For all of us?” I ask, a little surprised by the offer.

  “If the Nemean is agreeable.” Grim raises one brow, almost as if he’s challenging Calix to accept.

  In return, Calix’s eyes narrow. “I’m restricted to the more human modes of transportation in this form, so I will accept your offer that we may arrive together,” he answers, sounding strangely formal.

  “Wait, you’re going to portal us there?” I nearly bounce with giddy excitement.

  “No, I can’t take you to the other side.” Grim eyes me like I might just be crazy.

  “I was about to withdraw my consent,” Calix mumbles.

  “Then how?” I look around like he has a magic carpet tucked somewhere.

  “I just need you to tell me where Rumors is and where within we should blink to,” Grim tells me, as if I know what the hell blinking is.

  “You probably pick up ODs from there often enough. Club over on Seventh and Wayne,” Calix answers before I have the chance.

  “I know it. I’ll take you first.” He nods to Calix.

  “Shit. You can’t take us both?” Calix rubs his hands together. “I hate spiritual travel.”

  “Just hold still,” Grim warns, while placing his palm on Calix’s shoulder. “I’ll drop you in the bathroom. I trust you’ll be able to find us?”

  Calix’s upper lip lifts in a small sneer. “Of course I can find her.”

  “I will return for you.” Grim watches me as he and Calix disappear.

  I take a step forward and wave my hand in the space they were just standing in. “Weird. I want to do that.” I pout, disgruntled that I don’t have some super-awesome way to get around like Gunnar’s and Grim’s disappearing.

  Grim pops back in right where my hand is, so I end up with a palmful of his chest. “Well, hello.” I tell my brain I should move my hand, but my damn fingers decide a slow walk down Grim’s abdomen is a much better idea. “How did you pop up so fast?” My other hand finds its way to Grim’s chest and demands the same scenic route down his stomach.

  “Without the burden of the Nemean, I can travel much faster.” Grim’s voice is pitched low. His chest is rising and falling quickly. Instead of backing up from him, I take another step closer. “That’s interesting,” I say, even though I’m not even really paying attention to what he said. I’m much more engrossed in the way his breath keeps catching when my fingers travel over his chest and stomach.

  I feel a sharp tug on the ends of my hair. My head jerks back and I gasp. Grim’s mouth lands on mine as he devours me. There’s no first-kiss awkwardness, no trying to figure out what I like, just him shoving his tongue into my mouth as he wraps his arms around my waist and drags me tightly up against his body.

  Never once does the thought of resisting enter my mind. Why the hell would I want to? Grim is kissing me like a dying man searching for water. He jerks back when his tooth hits mine. His eyes are all fire as he looks down at me. “Sorry.” He almost looks sheepish before he delves right back in, this time a little more careful not to knock his teeth into mine.

  I’m the one to pull away this time. I’m panting for air, but Grim just starts kissing his way up my neck. I let out a small groan when he bites the bottom of my earlobe. He freezes, my flesh still between his teeth, panting into my ear.

  My hands cling to his shoulders as Grim’s teeth slide off my earlobe, but he sucks it back into the warmth of his mouth. I feel his tongue slip up behind my lobe as he kisses his way up to the crest of my ear. Holy shit, I don’t think anyone has ever kissed me there, and it fucking feels good, or maybe it just feels good because it’s Grim, and that unshakable exterior has finally crumbled so I can see the beast beneath.

  In two quick strides, Grim has my back against the wall. He’s not at all gentle, and it stirs something inside me. He plasters his body to my front, leaving no doubt just how affected he is. I reach down between our bodies and grab his cock. Grim hisses out a breath and grinds into my hand.

  “Well, hello, big boy,” I purr, working my hand over his length. Grim bites my bottom lip roughly.

  “Stop speaking,” he growls and thrusts his hips. The wall behind me creaks in protest as my breath flees my lungs.

  “Or what?” I gasp with a shallow pant.

  Grim places his mouth right next to my ear, and I can feel his lips tremble as his hot breath teases my ear and neck. “Or I’ll have you right here, right now, against this wall.”

  “Is that supposed to be a threat?” I squeeze my hand around his dick. I wish he didn’t have these stupid jeans on, even if his ass does look amazing in them.

  Grim bites the side of my neck, hard. My head hits the wall behind me with a loud thud as my entire body goes lax. It’s not that I’m worried he’s going to hurt me; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. It’s like he hit the magical, do-whatever-you-like button, ‘cause I’m here for it.

  Grim releases his teeth from my neck slowly. The burn left behind has my knees feeling a little loose. “Damiana, I will only take you when I know you’re mine. Are you mine?” He stares right into my eyes, the fiery embers tracing through his slate gray eyes, looking like rivers of lava.

  I drag my fingers off of his erection. “I’m no one’s pet.” I hear myself saying the words, but it’s not what I’m really thinking. I’m thinking he could have very easily made me his if he hadn’t made it a demand, if he would have just shown me with his body how much he truly wanted me to be his. I push against Grim’s chest, but he doesn’t let up. He’s still holding me against the wall.

  I break eye contact. I don’t need him to see how very much I would like to be his, and not just for the fucking. Stupid, lonely heart. It’s going to be the death of me. I peer up at Grim and realize how accurate my thoughts really are.

  Blinking to the club was anticlimactic, to say the least. I was standing
in my kitchen one moment, then pinned between Grim and a nasty bathroom stall the next. There was no woozy feeling or even flashing lights in a tunnel or some shit. The only thing of note was the hard dick nudging my stomach.

  I push open the stall door with a sultry smirk on my lips. Good to know I’m still affecting him. A blonde, leaning in close to the mirror to reapply her lipstick, freezes when she catches sight of me—or it could be the Angel of Death who saunters out behind me that has her staring.

  I give her finger guns and an over-the-top wink. She blinks several times, her eyes volleying between Grim and me through the mirror.

  I leave her to catch her own tongue and push my way out of the VIP bathroom. If it had been the club-level bathroom, we probably wouldn’t have found an empty stall. Calix is leaning against the wall with one foot lifted behind him, so his knee is jutted out, and his arms are crossed over his chest. He’s wearing a scowl that would keep most men from approaching him, but it doesn’t seem to be too much of a deterrent to the ladies, if the small group around him is any indication.

  “Where the hell have you guys been?” Calix comes off the wall and stomps over to me as soon as I step out of the bathroom.

  “Got held up.” I meet his eyes. I’m definitely not lying. If Grim hadn’t been holding me against that wall, I’m sure I would have fallen a few times. Calix glares over my head at Grim, whom I can feel way too close to my back.

  “So, have you seen Gunnar?” I go up on my tippy toes to impede Calix’s line of sight.

  Calix studies me before answering, “No, but I’ve been standing here waiting for you guys for,” he makes a big show of looking down at his wristwatch, “twenty minutes.” He sends another glower at Grim.

  “Let’s see if we can find the bitches.” I say the word dramatically slow and give Calix a wink, so he knows I’m really talking about the witches. I just don’t want the people around us thinking I’m crazier than I really am.

  Calix takes a step closer to me, sandwiching me between himself and Grim. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he lowers his head and sniffs me. I straighten my back, feeling affronted. Do I stink? I lift my arm in the air and take a whiff of my armpit. I smell like deodorant. I did get a little hot and bothered with Grim, but I don’t stink.