Friends With The Monsters

by Albany Walker

  Evidence that other people are staying here is all over the house: my plates are in different places, the dishwasher is always running, and even their scents are permeating and changing the house. I look around. Grim’s apple core is sitting on the counter where he left it, and there’s a pair of discarded socks balled up near the door. Instead of making me edgy, it gives me a sense of peace.

  “Ready?” Gunnar asks, holding a flat tray with four mugs and Aeson’s thimble.

  “I am.” I nod my head, thinking about more than just going to the living room to join the others. I’m ready to hope for more.

  “Oh man, I smell chocolate,” Calix comments. “That has to be good, right?” he mumbles, as we near the living room. I click my tongue. Nosy bugger. They must have known what we were talking about.

  “We can hear you,” I singsong acerbically, as I move into the room. Aeson is perched on the back of the sofa just a couple cushions down from Calix, while Grim is in one of the chairs. I glance around the room. It always seemed like I had too much furniture, but now it feels like I need more.

  Calix pats the empty cushion next to him while he’s angling his neck to look around me. His eyes light up a bit when he sees Gunnar holding the delicate tray in his hands. I watch his lips move as he counts the mugs.

  I make my way over next to him and sit down gingerly so I don’t dislodge Aeson from the back of the sofa, but she hoists herself up and moves over to the arm of the couch instead. Gunnar sets the tray on the coffee table, handing me the largest of the mugs, then looks down at the tiny thimble, then his hand. I know he’s wondering how he’s going to pick up the petite thing with his massive paw.

  “Here, I got it.” I give Aeson hers, while Gunnar takes one for himself before he claims the last remaining chair. “Thanks.” I nod to him while blowing across the top of my cup and taking a sip. “Help yourselves,” I tell the other two.

  Gunnar takes a few minutes to bring Aeson up to speed on the Antonio issue, and how he has the Pixies working to track the money.

  Aeson sucks in a breath; it passes her lips like a whistle. “I bet that’s not a cheap job. Pixies are known to gouge.”

  Gunnar shrugs. “They’re the best with tech.”

  “Have you heard anything yet?” Aeson tilts her head.

  “I told them to gather everything they could and give me a report by midnight.” Gunnar glances over at the wall clock. “I’m not expecting a location tonight, but you never know; they’ve had all day.”

  “Mind if I stick around until you get word?” Aeson looks over at me.

  I scoff, “You don’t need to ask—you’re always welcome.” Aeson quickly scans the guys’ faces, assessing if the sentiment holds true with them, too. It’d better.

  Silence falls over us; this group dynamic is new, uncharted. I’m the bridge between them, so I feel like it’s my job to span the gap—only I don’t know how to do small talk. “How about that weather?” I chuckle dryly.

  Grim tilts his head. “What weather?”

  Calix repositions himself on the couch. “I worked with the Io band once.” Aeson turns her head and focuses on him. “Ever met them?” Calix inquires.

  “Sure, we’ve crossed paths a few times. How’d you end up working with them?” Aeson studies Calix.

  “We had a rogue Thunderbird. He lost his mate, and…let’s just say shit went bad real quick.”

  “I can imagine. What happened to the mate?” Aeson smooths her hand down her thigh where I know she keeps a knife. It is not the first time I’ve seen her do this tonight.

  “We’re not really sure; it was several years ago. He felt her die and lost his shit. I’m not sure anyone ever found out.” Calix looks off into the distance.

  “Thunderbirds are pretty high on the predatory chain. I wonder what happened to her?”

  “I know, that’s why we called in Io. We needed to get him grounded to find out what happened to her and to get him to listen to reason.” Calix pauses. “We wanted to take him down without hurting him, but none of us could do it.”

  Aeson sits forward a little, pulled in by the story. “How did Io manage it?”

  “Shit, it took us a day to even make contact: Io is one cagey motherfucker.” Aeson chuckles at Calix’s response. “But, truthfully, I’m not even sure. I was there, and I have no idea how they got him to come down.”

  Aeson rolls her lips in. “How many where there? Brownies, I mean?”

  “Had to be a dozen—maybe more.”

  Aeson nods her head like she has a better understanding now.

  “Do you know how they did it?” Calix asks her.

  “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” She gives him an evil smirk, which causes Calix to chuckle.

  I bet I have an idea. It’s the same thing Aeson did to the witch at the warehouse, only on a much larger scale. Birds in general have acute hearing, as long as the frequency isn’t too high. I bet with that many Brownies, they were able to whisper on the wind. I don’t open my mouth to divulge my secret, though. I would never betray Aeson’s trust like that.

  “What happened to him?” I question.

  Calix looks down, his face sobering. “He didn’t make it. Even after they got him grounded, he ended up killing three bears. We had to put him down.” Silence falls over the group. Calix’s attempt at connecting with Aeson backfired.

  “I collected them both.” Grim strums his fingers on the arms of the chair.

  “Do you know what happened to her?” I whisper urgently.

  “I don’t. She was far too upset for me to get any information from her spirit, but I have a suspicion now.”

  “Yeah, I bet that suspicion has everything to do with this bastard Antonio,” I seethe.

  “We’ll find him, Damiana. He messed up, and we know what he’s up to. It’s only a matter of time now.” Gunnar tilts his head left and right, I can hear his neck cracking and popping from here.

  “I just hope no one else dies before we do.”

  Gunnar’s phone rings at one minute to midnight. We’ve all been waiting for this call. He lets it ring once before placing it against his ear. “Speaker phone,” I hiss.

  Gunnar’s lips tighten into a thin line, but he obliges me, setting the phone on the low table between all of us. “What have you got for me?”

  “This line isn’t secure,” a male voice declares through the phone.

  Gunnar looks around, his eyes lingering on Aeson before he responds, “I’m with my people,” and leaves it at that.

  “Okay, Antonius Wood, goes by Antonio. His birth certificate has his parents listed as Helena Wood with unknown as father. Born thirty-four years ago. But we’ve traced him back almost seventy; it’s hard to find many records before that.” He pauses, and I hear the sound of papers flipping.

  “It took some digging, but he has at least seven shell corporations—one being the Vega Holdings. There could be more, but with the expedited time frame, that’s what we’ve got so far on his businesses. We have several properties listed, most of them on the east coast. He’s recently acquired a residential property within twenty miles from your current location.”

  “Twenty miles from here?” I interject “What city?” The line goes quiet.

  “He won’t answer you. You’re not signing the check,” Aeson supplies. Gunnar repeats my question and the man replies.

  “Lakeview.”

  Curses fly from most of us. “He’s probably gone for sure now.” I throw my hands in the air. He had been right under our noses.

  “Wait, let me think.” Gunnar looks down at the ground. “We don’t know that he’s aware of Vanessa’s death yet, or even if he was still in town. If she was siphoning magic without him, he might have already moved on.”

  “Or maybe she was just going behind his back like the two-faced bitch she was,” I snap.

  “Text me the address when we get done here, but what else?” Gunnar ignores my outburst.

  “I’ll send it over
through the secure email we set up, along with all the other addresses we found. We’ve picked up little things here and there through the network, but we haven’t had enough time for anything solid yet. Give us another twenty-four hours and I’ll have something decent.”

  “You get anything concrete on his location, I want to know immediately,” Gunnar orders.

  “I have everyone on this. If he’s within a hundred miles, we’ll find him; just give me time.”

  “Send me those addresses.” Gunnar smashes the end button on the phone.

  I get to my feet. “We’re going to check out the place, right?”

  “Yes,” Gunnar answers, then turns to Grim. “If you bring the Nemean and Damiana, I can manage the Brownie, she’s small enough not to disrupt my rift. That’s assuming you want to come,” he addresses Aeson.

  “Not even the devil himself could keep me away.”

  Gunnar nods, already suspecting the answer. “Meet us at the witches’ house. We’ll go from there.” His phone vibrates. Gunnar looks down and taps a few times against the screen. “I got it.”

  “Come here, Omnia.” Grim beckons me forward and I wrap my arms around his torso. Calix doesn’t need to be told to join us; I feel him grab on to me from behind.

  Gunnar moves to stand in front of Aeson near the couch. Her hands are on her hips as she glares up at him. “I don’t like this any more than you do, Brownie,” he tells her. “You can always change your mind and not come.”

  “Just shut up,” Aeson demands.

  Gunnar lets out a low growl. “If it wasn’t for you being Damiana’s friend, I would crush you.”

  “You would try and fail,” she deadpans.

  “Knock it off, you two.” I scowl. “Someone might think you’re flirting.”

  “With the bleeder? Puh-leeze.” Aeson scans him up and down.

  “Shut up and stand still, or I’ll leave without you,” Gunnar grates through his teeth.

  I blink as the smell of old blood and rot hits my nose. I’m standing in Vanessa’s foyer. The bodies are all gone, but the scent of death still lingers.

  Calix releases his hold on me and scans the area. Grim keeps one hand around my back as I take another look around.

  “Don’t get all high and mighty. If I’d had the time, I could have found a door. I let you bring me along. Don’t forget it.” Aeson’s voice floats over to us. “Damiana!” she shouts.

  “I’m right here,” I call back.

  “The bleeder is an asshole,” she comments, while making her way into the foyer.

  “You’re no ray of fucking sunshine, either,” Gunnar barks.

  Aeson gazes around, seeing for the first time all the blood and gore we left behind. “Sorry I missed the party.” She grins up at me, her eyes as dark as the sneer on her lips.

  “What’s the address?” I ask Gunnar, hoping the little, dick-measuring competition is over between him and Aeson for now.

  “It’s on the other side of town, near your old place.” Gunnar looks up from his phone.

  “Well, shit. Good thing it’s late—we wouldn’t want to chance a run-in with dear ole mummy and daddy.” I raise my voice to a proper woman’s tone just like I was taught, mocking them.

  “You should have just said that in the first place. I could have been there like this.” Aeson snaps her fingers. It’s loud for her hand being so small.

  “No, this is better. Who knows what kind of security they installed after they sent me away.” I turn to Calix. “Any vehicles left out there?”

  “Yeah, the issue will be finding keys. I had to search the bodies for the ones I took yesterday.” He shrugs.

  “We could always call a ride share?” I suggest.

  “I can hotwire a car.” Aeson plants her hands on her hips like we’re insulting her for not assuming.

  “I’m very familiar with where you grew up, I can take us there,” Grim volunteers.

  “Not inside, right? You can get us out front or something?” I open and close my fists. I always said I would never go back to that place.

  Grim pulls me in close again, and I feel Calix wrap his fingers over my shoulder when Aeson grumbles, “Ah, shit.”

  This time when I blink, I’m standing out front of my childhood home. Surprisingly, the lights are still on. When I look up, it doesn’t seem nearly as tall or imposing as it did when I was a child.

  It’s still a garish white with matching tall columns that stretch across the entire front. It resembles the façade of the Pantheon far more than it pretends to be a home. I hate this place.

  I speak past the lump forming in my throat. “Address?” I want away from this place and the memories it brings up.

  “Two houses that way.” Gunnar points to the left.

  “That’s…that’s really close. Doesn’t that seem weird?” I whisper, as I turn to follow the direction of Gunnar’s arm. The wide driveway is lined with unfamiliar cars. No wonder the lights are still on; they must be having a party.

  For just a moment, I wonder what they told people had happened to me. Did I die in some tragic accident? That would be my mother’s style—she always loved attention. Maybe they told them I was studying abroad, found a husband in France, and they visit me twice a year. Maybe they just pretend I never existed, which would be the truest, most accurate of the three.

  “Dami, are you coming?” Calix tugs my fingers.

  I blink away the memories and look around, seeing the house for what it really was—a prison, complete with solitary confinement. A place designed to make me lose my mind. I think about how much I isolated myself over the years, how I continued to punish myself, just like they did.

  I bend down and grab a large white rock in my palm, weighing it over and over. I release Calix’s fingers and turn at the same time, throwing the rock as hard as I can through one of the long front windows.

  Someone inside screams. Several other voices rise in question, asking what happened. The milky white curtains pull back to reveal my mother with her icy blonde hair, staring out at me. Her eyes round as her mouth drops open. I can’t tell if the look is fear or horror.

  Grim walks up to my side and my mother’s eyes bounce to him then Calix. She swallows—definitely fear.

  I turn my back on her and walk away, grabbing each of the guys’ hands as I do. I’m mad at myself for even letting it get to me. I should have walked away the moment we got here. Some small piece of me feels like I let her win.

  Chapter 30

  I expect someone to rush to the door and demand we stay put until the police arrive, or for the cries of outrage to continue, but neither happens. I’m sure that had something to do with my mother.

  The rage simmering under my skin boils hotter when I think of her. Grim and Calix guide me to the shadows of the house we came here to investigate. My breathing is ragged as I let my back fall against the short brick wall separating the homes.

  “Would you like me to kill her?” Grim whispers near my temple. So damn seductive.

  I want to laugh, but I just shake my head slowly. “She’s not worth it.” In truth, I want something worse for her. I want her to experience what it’s like to always be left out, to always be alone. I don’t know if that will ever happen, but if there’s any justice in this world, it damn well should.

  Gunnar’s mouth is turned down in a heavy scowl. “I think we should paint the walls with their entrails.”

  I sigh. “I appreciate the sentiment, Kitten, but we have more important things to do than worry about two fucked-up people.”

  After a brief moment to collect myself, I nod my head and confirm, “I’m ready. Let’s go find this witch.”

  Aeson scales the wall to one of the upper windows. People always assume windows on the second and third floors are too difficult to get to. We could have easily broken out a window, or even a door, but we want stealth on our side.

  I send out my senses, but the house is a total blank to me. It doesn’t feel like anyone has lived here in
a long while.

  We’re all crowded around the back door, waiting for Aeson to unlock it, but my heart starts beating faster with every second that passes. She should be here by now—what’s keeping her? I lean back and look up at the window she disappeared through.

  “What’s taking so long?” I hiss. Calix shakes his head, but doesn’t have an answer. “Open that door,” I order.

  I stand back as Gunnar lifts his left leg and pulls back his arms, he delivers one hard-as-fuck kick to the edge of the door, right near the deadbolt and knob.

  The door slams open and bangs against the wall behind it. I poke my head in as fingers wrap over my shoulder, holding me back. “Aeson!” I shout, completely giving up on subtlety.

  “Fuck me, I’m up here. Motherfucker,” she snarls.

  I duck my shoulder, pulling away from Calix’s hand, and step past the threshold. It’s like stepping into a vat of quicksand—my breath is stolen from my lungs and I’m rooted to the floor. I turn my head in slow motion and warn, “Trap.” I can feel the heaviness of a spell trying to coat my skin, but I imagine it sloughing off like water on a windshield until I’m able to draw a deep breath.

  Gunnar’s face would be comical if I were in any other situation. His mouth is contorted into a half scream, and his eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his head.

  Time snaps forward, and I hear the tail end of Gunnar’s shout to stop. “Well, fuck.” My feet are still fixed to the ground, but I’m able to talk, able to breathe.

  “You could have warned me!” I holler up to Aeson.

  “I’m trapped. This motherfucker,” she shouts.

  “Calm your tits. I’ll get out of this in a minute and come get you.”

  “You can’t just go rushing into things,” Gunnar chastises me from the other side of the door.

  “No shit, Sherlock. I get that now. How about telling me how to get out of it and saving the lecture for another time?”