Chapter 2
I swat at whatever is tickling my cheek. “Knock it off, Theius.” I turn my face to the side, burying my cheek against the chair. My eyes bolt open. I had assumed it would be my furry little friend Theius, but then memories of last night hit me like a lightning strike, filling my veins.
I look over to the floor where the man should be, but he’s not there. “Hello?” I call out, but my voice is coated with sleep, making it come out as a lazy drawl.
I squint at the windows. The drapes are still drawn, letting the late afternoon sunlight filter in. I never intended to sleep here last night—just meant to rest before closing up the house for the day and finding a more suitable bed to sleep in. I can’t believe the glaring ball in the sky didn’t keep me awake.
Sitting up, I wait for an answer. Don’t tell me he was able to get up and walk away after those injuries? “Without even a thank you,” I splutter.
“Thank you,” I hear a man grouse.
I jump up and look around, my eyes scanning the room—there, in the corner. He’s propped himself up, his arms lifted in supplication. “I’m sorry to startle you.” His voice is low-pitched.
“I thought you left.” I skim my hands over my pajamas, feeling way underdressed in my soft sleep pants and cami. The remnants of his shirt are gone, leaving him bare from the waist up. I don’t bother averting my eyes. I’m not a shy girl, but something about him makes me feel like he can see so much more of me than I’m willing to show.
Clearing my throat and feeling slightly awkward, I ramble, “How are you feeling? Should I call a doctor? You said no doctor last night.”
“I’m healing, thank you. Sorry to drop in on your doorstep like this.” His eyes scan over my body, taking me in from head to toe.
“My bedroom, you mean, drop into my bedroom. How did you even get in here?” I tilt my head to the side and study him much the same way he’s observing me.
“Your door wasn’t locked. You should be more careful.” He manages to sound like he’s chastising me.
I lower myself back into the chair, placing each hand on an arm as if I were sitting on a throne. “I don’t worry much about people stumbling on me way out here. But if an event should ever arise where I would need protection, rest assured, I have it.” I snap my teeth together on the last word and give him the smile that would always make my mother rush from the room.
One side of his lips tips up a tiny bit. “Good to know.”
After a long stretch of silence, I tap a finger on the arm of the chair. “You never did say how you ended up out here.”
“I didn’t,” he confirms, still leering at me.
I can’t get a good read on him. Last night he tasted like a human, but now everything about him is closed off, almost as if he’s shielding himself from me. I narrow my eyes. There’s a reason the monsters fear me, a reason I never have to worry about someone hurting me. I may not know exactly what I am, but I know I could pull his last breath from his lungs clear across the room, without even moving a finger.
“I would never hurt you,” he tells me in an almost-whisper.
I let a tiny laugh escape my lips. “I know. I’m not afraid of you—just curious.” I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t get many hum—” I stop myself before I can finish. “I don’t get many visitors,” I correct.
One of his eyebrows arches. “Really,” he drawls out, elongating the word like he’s challenging me.
“Who are you?” I blurt curiously. He’s making me feel like he knows more than he should. I’m second-guessing the whole human assumption. A human wouldn’t be sitting up, acting like he’s fine. The bandage I taped over his wound last night is still there, keeping me from seeing his injuries.
“I’m Gunnar.” I hear a slight accent in his voice when he pronounces his name. He glances down, but peers up at me from under his brow quickly after.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Damiana.” I lift my hand from the chair, I have to stop myself from giving him a wave and place it in my lap instead. That small grin slants his lip again.
“Evening, Damiana. I thank you for your hospitality.” He pronounces my name right the very first time, like it’s rolled off his tongue countless times before. That never happens.
I cast a sideways glance at him. “Do I know you?” That achingly familiar feeling comes back. Could he be one of the many men I’ve used over the past few years? I dismiss the thought almost immediately. I would have remembered that face, that body. I let my eyes travel over his features, very much enjoying what I see.
“We’ve never met before,” he answers vaguely, but I don’t see how.
“Strange,” I counter, but I can’t argue. I have no memory of meeting him either, just the uncanny feeling we do somehow know each other.
“Why is that strange?”
“The sun has set,” I announce without answering his question.
Gunnar glances to the left, looking out into the darkness through the window. “It seems it has.” His reply is soft, almost like it makes him sad.
I rise from my chair again, this time with a slow grace. “Would you care to shower? I would offer you some clothing, but I fear I don’t have anything that would fit.” A grin tugs at my lips when I think of him in one of my silky robes or trying to wear one of my shirts.
Gunnar looks up at me without moving more than his neck. “So, no man of the house then?”
Another laugh tinkles from my throat. “Goodness, no.” I shake my head. “Troublesome creatures, aren’t they? Always spilling blood and grime.” I poke a little fun at him about the mess he left on my floor. “And needy, too. They want to be fed and kept warm.” I shudder as if the idea were abhorrent.
In truth, none could handle me for more than a day or two. I’m too blunt, too set in my ways to have only one man warming my bed. But mostly, I’m not willing to give up the only friends I’ve ever had.
I can’t imagine any man being comfortable with Crabby or Samson stopping by for a late-night visit. And don’t even get me started on Uncle.
“I’m not always covered in my own blood.” He somehow manages to stare up at me like he’s the predator in the room, even though I don’t feel threatened in any way. “It’s usually someone else’s.”
I smile again. Even though his words would terrify most people, I’m not most people. “I bet you’re the life of the party.” I sigh wistfully before moving a little closer, asking, “Do you need help getting up?”
Gunnar pushes up off the floor in a single fluid movement. I take a step back, surprised he can move that easily after such a serious injury. Now that he’s standing, I lower my eyes to his abdomen. “You seem to be quite the fast healer, Gunnar.” My voice lilts when I say his name.
“Must have looked worse than it was,” he counters, not offering any other explanation. “Does the offer to shower still stand?”
“Oh, of course.” I pull my eyes from his lower body. “Right through there.” I point at the door to my bathroom.
Gunnar tilts his head down in a slow, single nod. “My lady.”
His tone actually makes me blush. I’ve never been called a lady, not in the way he’s saying it. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Take your time.” I leave him alone in my bedroom before I decide his wounds definitely don’t look that bad and ask him if he would like help washing his back.
Distracted, I find my way to the kitchen. I don’t eat, but many of my friends do. I should have something for him, even if I don’t exactly know what he is.
I hear the sound of a few boxes being shifted in the pantry. “Dare, is that you?” I whisper, with my hand on the doorknob. I get a small, delicate squeak in response.
“I have company,” I mutter, cracking the door just enough to peer through the opening. Dare is raised up on her hind legs, her little hands poised over her rounded belly. Excitement blossoms in my stomach that I have someone to talk to. Bringing my hands up close to my chin, I clap them together softly. “I have a re
al visitor,” I announce.
The spikes all over Dare’s back and around her neck droop a little. “Not that you and all the others aren’t real visitors. You’re like my family—you know that,” I assure her, recovering quickly. “But this is a man.” I lean in even closer, so I can see her beady red eyes. “I think he might be human, but I’m not sure.”
Dare’s spikes immediately lift, responding to the perceived threat. I reach out and stroke her soft fur and the razor-sharp spikes dotted all over her body. “No, it’s okay. He won’t even know you’re here, and I would never let him hurt you,” I coo, tickling her under her chin. The tiny barbs there are like needles. I don’t know anyone else who would dare touch her there. Dare’s mouth lolls open a bit, showing off the rows of teeth she keeps hidden behind her lips as she leans into my caress.
“I’m going to get him a snack. Help yourself to whatever you would like.” I marvel at the way none of her defenses affect me. I could slam my hand over any of her thorns, and they wouldn’t penetrate my skin. “Just don’t come running out to attack if you smell or hear him,” I warn. “If you bump into anyone else, warn them, too.” I give her tiny, rat-like face a little smooch. “See you in a bit, Dare.”
I look over my offerings on the counter, wondering if I have enough. There are cookies, Pop-Tarts, candy bars, and chips. I tap my chin, thinking I need more. Rushing over to the fridge, I grab a couple cans of soda and set them off to the side. “Ice cream,” I blurt. “I can’t believe I forgot the ice cream.” Satisfied, I climb onto the island, letting my legs dangle down.
I don’t have too long of a wait before Gunnar comes into the kitchen. If I didn’t have extra senses, I never would have heard him coming down the stairs. He’s still shirtless, but I don’t mind the view.
He stops mid-step when he sees me and the buffet of goodness I laid out for him. “That’s a lot of sugar.” He winces a little.
Offended by his tone, I hop down from the counter and narrow my eyes at him. “None of it is for you,” I sneer up at him.
He blinks at me, almost owlishly. “Oh, okay.” I push past him, bumping my shoulder into his arm as I do. Gunnar clears his throat. “Sorry I assumed.” I turn to look at him over my shoulder. He sounds contrite.
I roll my eyes. “It is for you—it’s all I have.” I shrug my shoulders. I guess it’s safe to assume his diet is different from my monsters’. I’m not even sure why I was so bothered by his comment. I suppose it has to do with the fact that I wanted to impress him.
“Forgive me for sticking my foot in my mouth?” Gunnar looks a little sheepish as he gazes at me.
I flatten my lips, realizing I’m being silly. “It’s fine. You’re welcome to have anything else you would like, but…uh, it’s all pretty much the same,” I warn him. I’ll need to make sure Dare is either gone or hidden if he goes into the pantry.
“This is perfect, more than enough,” he assures me.
“So,” I drawl, while Gunnar shovels the last bite of ice cream into his mouth.
He pauses, then pushes the empty bowl away. “That was delicious.” He sounds almost surprised.
“You act like you’ve never had ice cream.” I beam, happy that he really did seem to enjoy the treats.
“It’s been a long time.” He wipes his mouth with the napkin he held in his hand the entire time he was eating.
“I have more,” I offer, already standing.
“No, no I couldn’t.” He waves his hand and grabs the bowl before I can. He stands and takes it over to the sink, rinsing it before opening the dishwasher and loading it into a slot. I tilt my head, considering him. He knew right where the dishwasher was—he didn’t even have to look when he reached down to open the door.
I need to know more about this man. “So, Gunnar, we’re old friends now, right? You’ve bled all over my bedroom, slept on my floor, showered in my bathroom, and eaten my food.” I tick the items off on my fingers. “How about you tell me how you ended up on my floor with your guts falling out, and how you seem to be doing just fine now?”
Gunnar settles his ass against my sink, crossing his arms over his chest. “You don’t have a guess?” He raises one brow, studying me.
“Oh, I have loads of ideas. You don’t even want to know what’s going on up here.” I point to the side of my head.
He bites the corner of his bottom lip, but it doesn’t hide the smile forming on his scarred mouth. “I’m dying to know exactly what you’re thinking.”
I shrug my shoulders, “You asked for it,” I caution. I inspect him again. “A vampire…no.” I shake my head knowing that’s not right. “Werewolf.” My eyes bug out. “I’ve never met a werewolf.” I shimmy a bit, excited by the thought.
His eyes crinkle. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I’m not a werewolf.”
“Darn…are you a demon?” I inquire skeptically. “A succubus, maybe?”
Gunnar stands up straight, his eyes going wide in the process. “No.” He stresses the word. “That’s a new one,” he adds under his breath.
“What, why? You’ve got this allure thing going on for you.” I wave my hands in his direction. “You’re like a big ole bear. You look like you could rip someone’s head off, but you also seem kind of sweet, too.” I tilt my head and study him, finding my assessment a very appropriate description of him.
“A bear, huh?”
“You’re a shifter, aren’t you?” I don’t give him a chance to respond. “I knew they were real,” I mutter to myself.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not a shifter,” he declares.
“Really?” I deflate, and Gunnar chuckles. “Well, I know you’re some kind of soldier or something.” I tap my finger on my lip. “Are you a government experiment gone wrong? Just escaped their mind control and gained your freedom?”
He throws his head back to let out a belly laugh, and it’s deep and hardy. He’s wheezing by the time he gets himself under control. “I don’t know where you’re coming up with this stuff,” his eyes are dancing as he gazes at me with his hand over his abdomen, “but you’ve got to stop. I don’t think my body can handle another round of that.”
His hand over his stomach takes on a whole new meaning. He’s taped on a new bandage. I’d already forgotten he was hurt. “Do you need to sit down?” I offer, pulling out a stool from the island.
“No, I’m fine,” he replies, dismissing me easily, still wearing a grin.
“If you’re sure.” He’s a big boy, a very big boy. I think he knows his limits and can take care of himself.
Leaning forward, Gunnar picks up a palm sized stone that I found sitting on my nightstand one day. He examines the rough rock, turning it left and right. The shimmery stone almost glows as he does. “This is nice. Where did you get it?” His tone is a little too interested.
I hold out my palm, letting him know I want it back. “It was a gift from a friend.” He places the jagged stone in my hand, and I put it back in the small dish of stones I keep on the counter. A new one shows up every now and then.
After a very short stretch of silence, he takes a deep breath and his smile disappears, a more serious expression covering his face. “I need to get going.”
“You do?” I surprise myself by how disappointed I sound. “I can give you a ride,” I add, almost too eagerly.
He starts to shake his head as if he’s going to deny the need for a ride, but thinks better of it, and says, “Yeah, that would be great.” He reaches up, grabs the back of his neck, and gazes down. He almost looks shy—if a two-hundred-fifty-pound wall of scarred muscle could look shy.
“Let me go get changed, and I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” I wrinkle my nose and tighten my lips. Shit, I sounded too eager. I hold up a finger, indicating I need a minute, and scamper out of the kitchen.
“Come on, Dami, quit acting like you’ve never talked to a real boy,” I grit through my teeth, as I drag my hand over shirt after shirt in my closet. “Just pick something.”
“The green one looks nice with your hair.” I spin and find Aeson perched on my vanity.
I raise my finger up to my lips, warning her to be quiet. “I have a visitor. I don’t think he’s human, but I’m not really sure,” I whisper to her, grabbing the emerald green sweater she suggested.
She kicks her little legs and leans back against her palms. “What’s he look like?” Her voice goes all soft and sugary sweet.
“Too big for you,” I blurt harshly.
She slowly turns her head and her eyes find mine. “Is he now?” she drawls, one of her tiny, perfectly arched brows raised in a challenge.
“Yes.” I narrow my eyes at her.
Aeson lets out a tinkling laugh. She raises her fingers to cover her mouth, and her eyes go a little wide. “I’m sorry,” she splutters out an apology, still giggling a bit.
“Why are you laughing?” I drag my hair out of the back of the sweater and look in the mirror. Aeson is right, this color does look good on me. If I were going out hunting, I wouldn’t even bother with pants. I twist to get a look at my ass. “Pretty nice.”
“You know you can’t talk to yourself when you’re around normal people,” Aeson warns me.
I face her. “Why were you laughing at me?” I demand again.
She stands up and walks to the edge of the vanity. “I wasn’t sure you even liked men, let alone liked one enough to warn me away from him.” Aeson is beautiful. Tiny and deadly, but still beautiful. I can’t believe I’m actually feeling a little jealous right now.
“I don’t like him.” I avert my eyes from her and grab a pair of black leggings that look like well-worn leather.
“It’s not a bad thing, Dami.” Her voice is soft. I glare over my shoulder at her. “It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with letting people in, even if they are human.”
“I have to go. I’m giving him a ride home.” I ignore her comment and rush to the door. Right before I grab the handle, I pause. “Humans never stick around, Aeson. I’ll be back soon.” I hustle out the door, leaving it cracked for her.
Friends With The Monsters Page 2
