Friends With The Monsters

by Albany Walker

  “We need to figure out who the other players are. Berserker, do you have any ideas?” Grim examines Gunnar.

  “I might. I have a few of my men watching Vanessa. She’s not likely to do anything with me around. I’m hoping she’ll lead them to whoever she’s working with.”

  “So, we’re just going to sit around waiting for her to do something?” I can’t keep the incredulous tone from my voice. “How do we know the guy isn’t out killing a Kapa, or another Troll right now?”

  “Someone did,” Grim states. “The reason I was called away was for the death of a Mimic.”

  Calix whistles through his teeth.

  “What’s a Mimic?” I trade glances with all of them.

  “A being that can take over another’s shape. Some people call them Doppelgängers,” Grim informs me.

  Gunnar rises to his feet. “If they’re strong enough to take out a Mimic…I need to put a stop to this now.”

  “We can help,” Calix interjects, scooting forward on the sofa.

  “Yeah, I want to help.” I nod eagerly. One thing I’ve never had was a strong sense of purpose. I’ve never even had a job. The only thing I can claim my parents ever did for me was fill my bank account. But that money came with a price, one I was happy to pay because I knew I didn’t want anything to do with them—ever.

  Spending their money is the only thing I’ve ever worked hard at. It’s probably why I bought such an old ass house that needed so much work. The more of their money I could squander, the better.

  “You said a male witch tried to talk to you at the club, asked you to dance?” Calix watches me.

  “He did,” I confirm.

  “Do you think he sensed her power? I mean, it would be hard not to, right?” Calix questions the others.

  “Anyone with any abilities would be drawn to her,” Gunnar acknowledges, nodding his head in agreement.

  “So, I should be bait, right?” I wiggle in my seat a little, excited that I’m going to get in on the action.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Calix says slowly.

  “Why not?” I send a defiant glare his way.

  “Well…” Calix looks around. I think he’s hoping for some support, but Gunnar is focused on the broken chair. After a quick look at Grim, who’s sitting as rigid and stoic as usual, Calix adds, “We don’t know who the other witch is, or if it’s even a witch. It could be dangerous.”

  “For who?” I snort disbelievingly.

  “You, Dami, you’re not invincible,” Grim supplies.

  “Neither are any of you,” I argue quickly. I’m not sure if it’s a relief or not, knowing that there is something that can kill me. “You guys aren’t leaving me out.” I cross my arms over my chest, my mind already made up.

  Gunnar lets out a heavy sigh, mumbling, “I knew this was going to happen,” as if I’m the biggest inconvenience ever.

  “Suck it up, Kitten. I’m the best partner you’ll ever get.”

  “Of that I have no doubt. It’s dropping you into the wolf’s den I don’t like,” Gunnar grouses back.

  “No worries, Berserker, I’ll take care of our little lamb.” Calix smirks.

  “The lion and the lamb,” I muse out loud, while shaking my head. I guess I can’t complain too much. I’m the one who started the animal references.

  “I will be with you as well,” Grim adds, as if he thinks I’ve somehow forgotten him.

  I give him a wink, then inquire, “So, should we go back to the club tonight?”

  “I suppose, if you’re set on being there.” Gunnar lets his head fall back on his shoulders. I rub my hands together, already making plans. I bet that guy Joe we met earlier at the club might know a little something. It probably wouldn’t be hard to get him to tell me what he knows.

  The heavy sound of breathing fills the room. Gunnar’s head is all the way back, his neck fully exposed as he blows out another breath.

  His face is completely soft, so different from how he usually looks. I think back to the last time I saw him sleeping, well, passed out really. He’s even more relaxed now. I’m sure the fact that his guts aren’t slipping out of his belly has a lot to do with it.

  “We should all probably get some sleep. You guys are staying here?”

  “I haven’t slept in a few days; that would be good.” Calix avoids answering me directly, and his voice is just this side of drowsy. He might have been close to falling asleep, too.

  “I have no need for sleep.” Grim is still sitting rigidly on the couch.

  “You don’t ever sleep?” I prop my head up on my elbow and watch him. I bet I could work him over good enough that he would be plum tuckered out and in need of a nap.

  “I rest, but not in the way you do,” Grim answers.

  A smile spills over my lips. “Do you watch me sleep? I don’t know if that’s creepy or cute.” I playfully narrow my eyes at him.

  “It’s not creepy,” Grim deems it so, as if by just saying it’s not, all is settled.

  “Whatever you say.” I lift my hands in the air. “I’m about to head up to bed now, care to watch?”

  Grim stands up quickly. It’s probably the fastest I’ve ever seen him move. “Yes, thank you. I find watching you sleep very…relaxing.” He flounders for the word for a moment.

  I chuckle, not at all expecting him to take me up on the offer, and if he did, I wasn’t thinking we’d actually sleep.

  Calix stands next. “If he can, so can I,” he declares, like a child calling dibs on a toy.

  I roll my eyes. “Suit yourselves.” Of course, I would get three mates who are more interested in my feelings than getting between my legs.

  When I come out of my bathroom, Calix is stretched out on my bed, with his arms folded behind his head and his feet crossed at the ankles. Grim is glowering at him from over near the wall.

  I freeze. I’ve never had anyone in my bed. “Making yourself right at home, I see,” I snark, hoping it will cover the awkward pause.

  “This bed is big enough for a few of us.” Calix pats the space next to his hip, inviting me into my own bed.

  I glance over at Grim. This feels more intimate than I bargained for. I mean, it’s my bed, my sheets. I thought I could get Grim up here and maybe fool around, but with both of them here, I know that’s not happening. I shuffle my feet and Calix leans up on his elbows, tilting his head to the side as he studies me. “Everything okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I murmur, dismissing him, and break eye contact while I climb into bed. The moment I lie down, I freeze again. I’m not even breathing.

  “Damiana, would you like us to leave?” Grim pushes his shoulders off the wall, stepping closer to the bed.

  Do I? “No, stay.” My lips utter the refusal before my mind even settled on the answer. But it’s the truth. I don’t want them to go. I’m just not used to having anyone this close to me.

  Grim surprises me when he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. His fingertip glides over my forehead and down over my eyes as he gently draws them closed. “Sleep, goddess.” My eyes pop right back open and I give Grim an accusatory scowl. There’s something about the Angel of Death calling me a goddess that freaks me out. I felt the same way when Gunnar kept saying that ‘my lady’ bullshit.

  I don’t really know what to say, so I just eyeball him for a few seconds then close my eyes again. I peek at him after a few seconds and warn, “Don’t be creepy.”

  “I am not creepy,” he intones.

  Calix snorts and I let out a chortle. “You are, in fact, most people’s definition of creepy—just saying.” I turn on my side to get more comfortable, forcing myself to close my eyes and settle down, but this is weird. What if I talk in my sleep or drool? How do people do this every day? I feel more exposed now than I would if one of them where inside me.

  Calix’s breathing evens out quickly behind me. I’m just starting to relax when I feel him turn over and curl around my back. I lie completely still as he weaves his
hand under my arm, draping it over my stomach. A sense of calm falls over me.

  When I open my eyes, Grim is staring down at the hand over my belly with a heavy frown on his face. I reach out and touch his leg, his eyes jerk up to mine.

  “Should I remove him?” he asks quickly, and licks his lips. The way he says it seems so final. He’s so sweet.

  “No, it’s not so bad. Want to lie down and be the little spoon?” I whisper, half joking.

  “Little spoon?” Grim tilts his head as his brow furrows.

  “Like nesting spoons. Right now, I’m the little spoon and Calix is the big spoon,” I explain.

  “I want to be the big spoon.” His chin lifts a little.

  “Well then, you have to go lie behind Calix.” I hook my thumb behind me.

  “That’s not acceptable. I will only nest spoons with you.” Before I can even giggle at the way he responded, Grim lies down and gives me his back.

  I swallow and lift my arm to accommodate him. “Scoot back a little,” I breathe. Only a few moments ago, I was uncomfortable with him being here, now I’m telling him to cuddle closer. I think I might be insane after all.

  Grim does scoot back then. I have to reach my arm up a little to get around him, but every drop of reservation I had about them being in here with me while I slept evaporates the moment he lets out a heavy breath. “Little spoon is nice.” It’s almost as if he’s speaking to himself.

  My last thought before I close my eyes is how absolutely shocked Aeson would be if she saw this. She’s going to laugh her ass off when I tell her about it.

  Chapter 20

  “I just want to make sure I’m clear on the plan.” I look around and see Grim, Calix, and a still angry Gunnar watching me.

  To say he was pissed about our little sleep over and he didn’t get invited would be an understatement. More like he was madder than a wet kitten. I almost snicker at the imagery, but school my features.

  Waking up to Gunnar bellowing at the top of his lungs was a new experience for me—and Grim, too, it seems. He was the one who said he only rests, but he had to be sleeping with the way he jumped up. He sure seemed like he was startled. I think his ass teleported to the door, blocking Gunnar’s raging, psycho self from entering the room. Grim’s scythe and cloak appeared as if summoned right along with him.

  Calix just tightened his grip around my waist and let out a soft sigh, as if waking up to screaming and hollering is an everyday occurrence for him.

  “What are you unclear on?” Grim asks patiently.

  I rake my eyes over his body. Damn, he can make a t-shirt and jeans look good. Does he just conjure that shit up, like his robe? “I’m still not sure where Kitten fits in. Is he with us, against us?”

  “I’m with you.” Gunnar accentuates the last word.

  “So, no good guy, bad guy? I make a really good bad guy,” I offer, while waggling my eyebrows.

  “What do you know about being the bad guy?” Calix snickers.

  “I’ll have you know, a Brownie taught me her interrogation techniques.” I smirk, full of pride. That gets Calix’s and Grim’s attention.

  Gunnar actually cracks a smile. “No shit?”

  “Aeson, she’s one of my best friends,” I brag.

  “No, no. I really don’t think that will be necessary.” Calix darts his eyes to Grim. “Let’s just go in, hang out, and see what we can learn.”

  “I think we should talk to that Joe guy. Something about him was iffy.” I pull on a leather jacket and lift my hair out of the collar.

  “If he’s there, we’ll talk to him,” Grim concedes. “Tell me about this back office.” He looks at Gunnar.

  I groan. “Not that place! It’s worse than the bathroom.”

  “You wouldn’t think that if you knew half the shit that goes down in that bathroom,” Gunnar mumbles dejectedly.

  “I thought I was going to contract herpes from your couch,” I counter.

  “It’s not that bad. Back of the club, ground level, last office on the left,” Gunnar directs Grim. “If you need a quiet exit, the code to get back in the door is zero-five-two-zero.”

  “That’s my birthday, May twentieth,” I chirp.

  “I know.” Gunnar glances down at me.

  “Oh…you did that…like, on purpose?” I stammer a little. I don’t even really celebrate my birthday.

  “Yes, it’s a date I’ll never forget,” Gunnar admits, unabashed.

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you, Kitten.” I grab hold of Gunnar’s shirt and drag him down to my lips, planting a quick, hard kiss on his mouth.

  When I release him, Grim is watching me. “I knew it was your birthday too,” he blurts.

  A burst of laughter erupts from me. “If you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask.” I set my hands on my hips and wait.

  “I want a kiss.” Calix raises his hand and responds quickly.

  Grim pushes his way in front of me before I can step over to Calix. Grim scowls at the other man then turns his attention to me. “May I have a kiss, please?” Grim’s voice is pitched low as he crowds into my space. He licks his bottom lip and waits. He has the patience of a saint.

  I hear Gunnar’s huff and a shuffling movement. I bet he’s turning away so he doesn’t have to see, and he should, because this isn’t going to be just a peck. I mean, Grim asked so nicely. I wonder how many more times I could get him to say please. I peer up at him from under my lashes and beckon him down to me with a crook of my finger.

  He leans down, his eyes still locked on mine, and pauses with his lips a hairsbreadth away from mine. Without any more notice, I push my lips against Grim’s and slide my tongue into his mouth. His hands wrap around my head, and he gives back just as much as I’m giving. I bite his bottom lip in response.

  “Oh, okay. I think we need to get going,” Calix singsongs. I ignore him and wrap my arms around Grim’s torso. I’ve never really thought about my height, but right now, I wish I were a little taller, so he wouldn’t have to bend down, and I could feel his entire body against mine.

  Grim breaks the kiss, leaving me a little breathless. He doesn’t pull away though. While staring right into my eyes, he announces, “I call big spoon.” I take in how serious Grim’s face is, and another surge of laughter escapes me.

  “Ah, hell. Little spoon,” Calix grumbles.

  “There’s no calling dibs!” Gunnar hollers. I look over my shoulder to find him across the room, his face contorted into an angry mask. I know from my small bit of past experience that he’s close to losing what little control he maintains over his Berserker abilities. An evil grin spreads over my face. I wonder what will happen when he loses the battle. Fun stuff, I’m sure.

  I clap my hands together before we dissolve into another argument. “Time to go. Chop, chop.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You guys slept with her last night.” I can already see Gunnar’s features returning to normal. Maybe he’s finally getting used to the other guys. I hope he doesn’t ditch the attitude altogether, though. I like my kitten with claws.

  “How else are we supposed to decide—draw straws?” Calix mutters jokingly.

  “It’s getting late.” I tap my wrist as if I’m wearing a watch. This conversation is making me a little uncomfortable.

  “You take the Nemean, and I’ll bring Damiana.” Grim wedges his way back closer to me, bumping Calix out of the way as he does.

  “I can’t transport others the way you can,” Gunnar admits through his teeth.

  “Fine. Hold on to her, Nemean,” Grim orders over my head.

  “No problem, thanks for the ride.” Calix lines himself up against my back. It’s a pretty nice position to be in under different circumstances, but right now it feels a little smothering when Grim pulls me in tight against his chest.

  In a blink, we’re in a dingy office, but the couch I remember has been replaced with a ratty looking cot. “You either picked the wrong room, or someone did some redecorating.” I
pull myself out from between the two men and push my hair back away from my face. I should have put it all up into a ponytail. The back of my neck is already starting to sweat.

  I hear a door down the hall slam into a wall and a loud bellow. “That would be my kitten.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  Another door slams. “Damiana?” Gunnar shouts.

  “Would someone open the door before he breaks it down?” I throw my arm in the direction of the door. “Good thing we decided not to be stealthy.”

  Calix stomps over to the door and rips it open. “Would you shut up?”

  Gunnar’s yell cuts off mid syllable. “Why the hell are you in there?” His tone is still abrasive, but not nearly as loud.

  “You need to work on your inside voice, Kitten.” I push past Calix at the door and into the hallway.

  Grim is tight on my heels. “Why do you call him kitten when the Nemean is the feline?”

  I stop in my tracks. “You know, I hadn’t even thought about that.” I turn to gaze at Calix and Gunnar who are standing side by side. In theory, the name would be much more fitting for the lion, but it works so well for Gunnar. He’s like some feral kitty that just needs a little lovin’. I won’t tell them that though. “Well, it’s too late to change it now, he’s stuck with it.”

  “You don’t have a special name for me,” Grim informs me.

  “You want a nickname?” I blink several times. The Angel of Death is asking me to give him a nickname when he already knows I call the Berserker ‘Kitten’? Most men would more than likely feel emasculated by such a name.

  “Do you like him more?” Grim’s brow furrows.

  “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” I look at the grimy walls of the club’s back hallway. “And right now.”

  “Well?” Gunnar prompts, his chin lifted in the air a tiny bit.

  “No,” I reply with a sigh. “Giving him a nickname doesn’t mean I like him more. It just came out in the moment and kind of stuck. I think it fits him really well.” I open my hands after giving them the explanation. It’s the truth, I don’t like Gunnar more than the others, but the first time I met him, he was sweet and needy, then I got to see the other side of him. And yeah, the kitten name just works for me.