Friends With The Monsters

by Albany Walker

  I stay close to Lindsey, no longer hungry for sins—her trio has provided a meal that will last weeks—but still curious about how this will all play out. Call it the train wreck syndrome: I can’t look away. She makes her way over to the bar, pushing herself to the front a little roughly. “Give me a shot.” She shouts to be heard over the noise.

  “Of what?” Nat leans in a little closer.

  “Anything—something strong,” Lindsey demands. Nat gives a slight twist of her head. I bet she can figure out what’s going on, just like I could. You can’t be a bartender for years and not pick up on all the drama.

  I scan my eyes over the crowd to find Craig again, but I spot Gunnar, still shirtless. He’s stomping across the ground like a man on a mission. People move out of his way without any prompting. Forgetting about Lindsey and Craig, I move parallel to Gunnar, making sure to keep a good distance between us, which isn’t hard. It seems like people move into my way in the same way they move out of his.

  I should have guessed he’d be going to the VIP section. His steps eat up the flight of stairs, and he bangs on the glass door separating the portioned-off section from the rest of the club. The wall is glass, letting everyone below know what they’re missing, but not allowing them entrance. I know it creates quite a bit of jealousy in the lower tier. I’ve partaken of that particular sin of envy a few times when the night is slow of a more filling fare.

  Sean, another one of the bouncers I know, opens the door and immediately steps back to allow Gunnar entrance. Something about the man I shared a ride here with seems different. Earlier this evening at the house, I never mistook him for someone that was weak, even with his injury, but watching him shove past Sean, and the few other security men working the VIP section, is showing me that I might have misjudged him a little.

  I settle myself on a stool about midway between the bar and the VIP area. It gives me a good view of the raised portion of the club without looking like I’m staring in that direction. As soon as I nab the empty table, a nice-looking guy comes into my line of sight. He dips his head to the open stool across from me in question.

  I mull over the idea. Sitting here alone invites its own attention. If I let him sit, it might keep others from trying, plus it will provide a little cover for me so I can keep watching Gunnar.

  “Be my guest.” I wave my hand over the table.

  “Are you here alone?” is his first question. Creep.

  “I have a few friends here.” Not a lie. I do. I actually try not to lie, ever. I don’t know if it comes with the same consequences as it does for others, but it does leave a bad taste in my mouth, literally.

  “I’m Noah,” he lies, but I don’t tell him I know that.

  “So, what brings you to my table?” I pretend to scan the bar, but I’m really just watching to see what Gunnar is doing.

  “You looked lonely.” Another lie. I take a second to actually look at the guy. He’s good looking, and his hair is a light shade of brown, almost blond. He fills out his fitted, black dress shirt nicely, but Not Noah’s hands look soft, like he’s never known a hard day’s work. Huge turn off.

  “So, are you?” Not Noah asks.

  “Am I what, lonely?” I chuckle a little. “You mean am I looking for a hookup? Not tonight.” I make my final response hard, so he knows I’m not just playing hard to get.

  “You sure?” he offers, like I’m passing up the offer of a lifetime. “I promise I’m better than whoever you’re waiting for.”

  I give him my full attention then, letting him see just how disinterested I really am. “Not on your best day,” I tell him, while leaning over the table a little.

  I feel someone approach my side. I look up to find Sean staring daggers at the man across from me.

  “This guy bothering you?” I glance up to the VIP section to see another bouncer now working the door. Gunnar is standing with his back to me, his arms down at his sides. I can see how rigid his posture is from all the way down here. I can’t see who’s in front of him, but judging from what he said, I can assume it’s Vanessa.

  “No, Sean,” I reply, dismissing his worries. “He was just leaving,” I address the man across from me. Not Noah lifts his hands and stands with no comment.

  Once he’s gone, Sean places his hand on the back of my stool. “Why don’t you go up? You know we can keep a better eye on you up there.”

  It’s so sweet that he thinks he needs to keep an eye on me, but tonight it just might serve its purpose. It will get me closer to Gunnar, and maybe I’ll learn why he’s here, meeting with Vanessa.

  Chapter 4

  “Walk me up?” I peer up at Sean from under my lashes. The tattoo near his temple scrunches up when his eyes crinkle.

  “For you, anytime.” Sean pulls out the back of my stool as I stand, giving me more room to get around the table. He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me to the flight of metal stairs. “I’m surprised you’re going up. You always say no.”

  “What can I say? You made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” I reach for the door, but Sean beats me to it. His hands are rough from use and hard work as he closes his fingers over mine. “Thanks.” I give him a grateful smile over my shoulder, thinking he’s going to head back down, but he follows me into the glass walled section.

  Sean places his palm on my lower back again and guides me over to a small grouping of furniture. “Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?” I have the distinct feeling I’ve been herded instead of being rescued like I thought.

  I narrow my eyes on Sean, not feeling nearly as happy with myself as I had. Sean doesn’t meet my gaze this time. I lean in and snag his wrist so he can’t escape. “Did someone send you for me?”

  “What do you mean?” he inquiries, evading my question.

  “Did someone send you down to bring me up here?” I focus on his face, so he can’t avoid me by giving me another half answer. It’s easy to lie with your words, but facial expressions and body language are harder to hide.

  “It looked like that guy was bothering you.” Not a lie, but not the full truth either. What bothers me more is the fact that Sean knows not to lie to me. He knows I would know if he did.

  I release his arm and look around, feeling much more exposed than I ever have. No one but my monsters know what I can do. I don’t see anyone I know other than Vanessa, even Gunnar has disappeared.

  I unleash my senses, even though I’m full with Lindsey’s restrained vengeance. There are too many people, too many emotions, and too many beings to sort through to find any one person or distinguish between them.

  “I think I’m going to go. I’m not liking the vibe here tonight,” I tell Sean, my eyes narrowed. I haven’t made it this long without being smart. And a smart girl knows when to retreat, especially when she doesn’t know what she could be up against.

  Maybe Gunnar showing up at my house wasn’t an accident. Maybe he lured me here. Sean takes a step back, his brows pinched. “You sure you don’t want a drink?” He’s trying to keep me here.

  “No.” I put some force into my word.

  He dips his head and nods once. “Whatever you like, my lady.”

  “What did you just say?” I seethe. Gunnar said the exact same thing to me. Now I know he has something to do with this.

  Sean tries to recover. “Whatever you like.” He licks his lips in an almost nervous fashion.

  “Why did you call me that?” I step a little closer into him.

  He runs his palm over the back of his head—definitely nervous. “It was just a slip.” The truth.

  I deflate a little, since he’s not lying. I take one last look around the room before heading back toward the door I just came through a few moments ago. I don’t rush, I would never want to give anyone the satisfaction of thinking they could run me away from some place.

  I focus on putting one foot in front of the other until I reach the main entrance. No one tries to stop me or keep me here like I’d been worried about.


  There’s a different guy on the door to the club, but Mick is still manning the outdoor entrance. “Leaving so soon?” he asks when I pass.

  “Yeah.” I give him a wave over my shoulder without an explanation. The line to get in is even longer than when I arrived, so I know he’s too busy to press me for more. I doubt he even would anyway.

  Betty is waiting for me when I round the corner of the parking garage, but she’s not the only one. Gunnar is leaning on the pole I parked next to. My steps might falter, but I recover quickly. “Did you forget something in my car?” I take note of the dark t-shirt he’s wearing. Wonder where he got that.

  “No, I just wanted to make sure you made it out here okay,” he answers, as he pushes off the pole.

  I plant my hands on my hips. “I think I told you I can take care of myself.”

  “You did, and I know you can.” He’s not lying. “But I wanted to be sure.”

  “Why did you come to my house?” I should have known there was more to him showing up on my bedroom floor. Of course I did, I just didn’t really worry about what it was.

  “I didn’t intend to. It just happened.” His big shoulders move in a shrug. Again, it seems as if he’s telling the truth.

  “But why?” I urge him.

  “I can’t answer that.” Gunnar opens his hands.

  “Can’t or won’t?” I demand.

  “Can’t.” He rolls his lips in like he’s already said too much.

  “Well, that’s not at all cryptic.” I throw my hands in the air and head toward my car. When I move to pass Gunnar, he reaches out like he might grab me, but I freeze and glare up at him. He pulls his hand back slowly and gives me another one of those stupid head nods, like the security guys at the club gave me.

  “Have a nice life, Gunnar,” I say with a whole lot of snark. I don’t wait around to see if he would have responded.

  Betty greets me like an old friend when I climb inside and slam the door shut. I give her dash a quick rub in apology then fire her up. When I check my mirrors to make sure it’s safe to back out, Gunnar is gone. “Good riddance,” I mutter, and speed out of the parking garage.

  I don’t bother worrying about the speed limit on the way home. I’m still borderline pissed off and a little out of sorts from what happened at the club.

  Sean was acting strange. I bet it all goes back to Gunnar. He’s the only common denominator. He seemed to be pretty familiar with the security from the club. I bet he was the one that sent Sean after me.

  “Dumbass. I told him I could take care of myself.” I glance at the clock, it’s still early enough that Aeson may still be at the house, maybe even Dare. I push the gas pedal a little harder, ready to put this night and all the strange shit behind me.

  “What do you mean, you’re leaving for a while?” I toss the hand towel near the sink. Radmon lingers near the door, floating a few inches off the ground. Her grayish dress is all torn near the hem, letting you see the way her ankles are in an unnatural pointed position, allowing her toes to almost drag against the floor.

  “There’s always a time for us, and mine has passed, for now.” Her voice is saccharine sweet, which is at total odds with her appearance.

  “So, what—another monster is going to take your place?” I’m confused, I’ve had friends come and go, and sometimes I go months without seeing a particular person, but this is the first time any of them has come to me and told me they were leaving. “And what is a while?” I cross my arms over my chest.

  “I’m not sure, Dami, but I’ll be back. I always come back.” She tilts her head to the side and examines me.

  “Well, that’s bullshit!” I spit.

  “It’s how it works,” she cajoles. “We can’t all be here at once. There are others that have been waiting their turn.”

  I drop my arms, my curiosity piqued. “Where do you go when you’re waiting?”

  Radmon glitches, her shape flickering in and out of focus. “I can’t tell you that.” She smiles at me ruefully.

  “Why not?” I scoff, indignant that I’m being denied information for the second time in a week. First, it was Gunnar, saying there was something he couldn’t tell me, and now her.

  “I really must go, Damiana. I just wanted to say goodbye for now, dear friend.” With those words, she disappears for the last time, her sweet voice still lingering in the air.

  “Well, that fucking sucks.” I look around at my empty kitchen. A glow from the window catches my eye—it’s nearly dawn. With shuffling steps, I make my way over to the window, and close the heavy curtain, continuing through the rest of the house until I reach my bedroom upstairs. My thoughts are still lingering on Radmon. I hope she’s not too lonely wherever she’s going.

  The sun is just cresting the horizon when I reach for the last set of drapes in my room. I gaze over my property as the shadows are chased away in the morning light. Movement near the dense tree line catches my eye.

  An animal, much too large to be a dog or wolf, slinks between the trees. I shake my head, thinking the light is playing tricks on me. I couldn’t have just seen a lion walking into my woods. I press my hand to the glass and peer out, hoping for another glimpse. “What the hell was that?” I look around like someone else might have seen it, but I’m alone, as usual.

  “I should probably go check it out,” I tell myself.

  Hustling downstairs, I hop on one foot, jumping into my boots. Cracking the door, I shiver a little when the wind slices right through my sleep pants.

  I tiptoe over the porch and down the steps, heading in the direction I noticed the animal. I click my tongue and make kissy noises. “Anyone out here?” I peer into the trees, waiting for any sign that I’m not losing my mind—a rustling tree, a twig snapping, anything.

  After a good five minutes of making a fool of myself, calling the animal like it was a lost puppy, I make my way through the damp grass and back to the house.

  “Well, that was a waste.” I close the door and lock it, slipping my boots off. “Yuk.” I slide my pants down when the wet hem from the morning dew touches my bare feet.

  Using my toe, I kick the pants up and snatch them out of the air, tossing them on the laundry room floor as I pass by on my way back up to my room.

  My drapes are still open when I enter. Heaving a sigh, I walk across the room to pull the curtain closed. “I’ll be damned. You shit!” There, just where I was standing outside only minutes ago, is a lion. Not just any lion: a huge fucking lion, with a mane that looks like it’s made from shimmering strands of gold swaying in the breeze.

  I drag the fabric back and crank the window open. “What the hell?” I grate through my teeth. The lion—and it is a fucking lion—lifts his head and opens his maw in a lazy yawn. His tail curls up, and a small tuft of fur on the tip catches the light, making it look like a flame before it flips back down, disappearing out of sight. “I hope you catch your ass on fire,” I tell him, leaning against the window.

  Even up here, I can hear the chuffing sound he makes before turning around to head back into the woods. I jerk upright. “Wait, I was just kidding. You don’t have to go.”

  The lion looks up at me again for a long second, then slinks into the forest. I give him a few seconds before deciding he’s really gone for good this time and crank the window closed.

  I pull back the covers, still amazed at the sight of the animal. His mane was almost unreal. He was more like a mythical beast than any monster I’ve ever met. Maybe I’ll ask Aeson or Uncle about him.

  I wonder why he was here. The images of him near the tree line and thoughts of him prowling the forest leaves me with a contented feeling. Something about knowing he might be around makes me feel happy. Maybe it’s just the thought of knowing who and what he is, possibly having a new friend. That thought spurs me into thinking about another friend.

  The memory of Radmon flickering out of existence in the kitchen fills my mind. I’m going to miss her, even if she’s only gone for a short time, but I have
a feeling it won’t be. I have a lot I need to talk to Uncle about—like why she had to go, and if he knows when she’ll be back. Getting him to answer me might be an entirely different story, though.

  It feels as if I lie in bed for hours trying to sleep when my racing thoughts finally slow enough to allow slumber to take me.

  Chapter 5

  He’s been here again. I can taste him in the air the moment I step out of the bathroom, and he’s rife with rage. I drag the towel over the ends of my hair and call out, “Hello.”

  A robed figure steps into my room as if he’s coming from a portal. I blink at him several times, surprised he’s actually letting me see him. Well, part of him. I can’t really see anything but the long, billowy, black cloak.

  Once he’s in the room, all the essence of rage and anger dies as if it were coming from the same place he did.

  “Hi.” My voice comes out like a chirp, so I clear my throat.

  “Hello, Damiana,” he greets, saying my name like we’re old friends.

  “Are you here for a visit, or…” I let the sentence dangle. I mean, he looks like every image of the Grim Reaper I’ve ever seen.

  “Or did I come to take your soul?” His voice is smooth, not at all like I would have imagined it being.

  I narrow my eyes, trying to peer past his cloak. “I was just wondering the other day if I even had a soul,” I answer, sounding disinterested in knowing if he really is here for me.

  “You do,” he informs me.

  “Huh, good to know.” I nod a little at the information. “So, thanks for always feeding me.” I drag my toe across the carpet a little awkwardly.

  “Someone had to do it.” His robes shift and I go up on my toes, trying to get a better look at him.

  “What some hot cocoa?” I toss the towel I was using on my hair over on my vanity chair.