Some Kind of Monster

by Albany Walker

  Some Kind of Monster

  Albany Walker

  Copyright © 2020 by Albany Walker

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Albany Walker

  Cover Art by Pixie Covers

  Edited by Elemental Editing and Proofreading

  Proofreading by Tabitha Finch

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Also by Albany Walker

  About the Author

  Monsters Make Me Happy

  Naughty girls need love too.

  A beautiful monster, that’s what I am. My packaging is just a little nicer than the creatures you hear about dwelling in your closet.

  With three baddies for my mates, things are definitely getting interesting. I think I’ve even convinced them not to kill each other.

  But I have a new purpose. Someone is hurting our kind, stealing Charmed magic in arcane rituals that leave my friends drained and dead, and I won’t allow it.

  It’s time for them to find out why monsters fear me.

  I am the bad guy.

  Chapter 1

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I whip my head to the left where I can see Gunnar and Calix purposely avoiding my gaze. Those two don’t work together unless it’s for me or against me. I narrow my eyes, contemplating my revenge. My entire parlor has been redone and all my furniture has been replaced. Gunnar owed me a new chair after breaking the arm of my last one, but come on. I’m not so great with change.

  Grim’s presence tingles against my skin as he steps out of a portal from the other side. “Did you know about this?” I prop my hands on my hips. Grim is never one to avoid confrontation, even with me. His direct nature doesn’t allow it.

  His tall frame slinks over to me without an ounce of reservation, and his eyes don’t stray from mine. I crane my neck back as he approaches to keep him in my sights. “Do you want me to kill them?” His voice is sex wrapped in sin. I shiver at the offer. He knows the way to my dark heart.

  Calix makes a disgruntled sound. I don’t think Grim would actually kill him…well, maybe he would if I really wanted him to, but I know he would never do anything that would upset me. “You’re my favorite, you know that, right?” I peer up at his gray eyes from under my lashes. The rivers of lava that erupt at my statement have me biting my lip in anticipation. Grim is stoic to the point of indifference, but not when it comes to me. I get a thrill knowing he can’t hide all that pent-up power from me. My Angel of Death could make people weep with his beauty, but the monster underneath is just as beautiful.

  “Hey!” Gunnar barks after my declaration to Grim, even though he knows I’m teasing. I don’t need to look at him to know that rage is simmering just beneath the surface, close to exposing his Berserker nature. Grim leans in close and ghosts his warm, full lips from the corner of my jaw over to my waiting mouth in an act of seduction you would assume was deliberate, but it’s just the natural sexuality he exudes.

  “You are my everything.” I feel his breath against my lips, and I swoon. I’m not even a little bit embarrassed. He makes my knees weak. Finally, he kisses me. Grim doesn’t hold back, he puts everything into the act of loving my lips.

  A throat clears, but neither of us move to break apart. Grim’s been gone for over twenty-four hours, the longest he’s been absent in the past few weeks. I missed him, and that makes me a little uncomfortable.

  “Where have you been?” Gunnar demands, his tone disgruntled. He doesn’t care that Grim was gone, he just doesn’t want Grim kissing me anymore.

  I feel Grim’s body tighten at Gunnar’s question. My heart sinks, and I pull back from Grim but keep my eyes focused on him. “Is it happening again?” I can’t tell if I sound angry or worried: probably both. I knew that witch would surface again—the one who taught Vanessa the ritual to steal Charmed magic without taking the backlash on her soul.

  Grim turns his head slowly, his eyes already lasered on my other mate, and the mask of apathy slips back over Grim’s features. “You try my patience.”

  I peer around Grim’s cloak and see Calix, his face hardened. He’s prepared for bad news, just as I am. His light hair is pulled back from his handsome face, exposing his square jaw and the darker stubble peppering his cheeks. I watch his hazel eyes and note the predator just beneath the surface is visible. I’d always wondered if shifters were real, and now I have one of my very own.

  Gunnar crosses his arms over his barrel chest. “Feeling’s mutual.”

  “What happened?” I draw Grim’s attention back to me before they devolve into an argument…or should I say before Gunnar starts yelling and Grim ignores him.

  “I was called to carry a Kelpie.” Grim laces his fingers with mine.

  “I’m guessing they didn’t die of natural causes?” I ask hesitantly. Grim takes a deep breath and slowly shakes his head. “It’s been weeks, right?” I settle my butt against the new couch in my favorite parlor. Suddenly, being annoyed at Calix and Gunnar for getting rid of my furniture and replacing it without my knowledge doesn’t seem worth it.

  “We knew this would happen,” Calix remarks, walking over and placing a comforting hand on my back.

  “How do you know it was him?” I question Grim.

  “It’s just an assumption,” Grim admits, and steps to the side, allowing Gunnar to move closer. I know they don’t hate each other the way it seems sometimes—heck, they all seemed quite chummy after killing half of Vanessa’s coven a few weeks ago. I bet if we could get into a little more mayhem, they would be bosom buddies once more.

  “It’s possible it could be another witch he’s tutored.” Grim’s cloak melts away, and he’s left in loose, black linen pants and a soft button-up shirt. His feet are bare, and the sight warms something in my chest. I know there are not many people he allows to see this side of him, and it makes me feel special that I’m included. There’s something about the personification of death walking around barefoot on my floors that makes my withered heart flutter.

  “Get anything from the Kelpie that will help us figure out who this guy is and where we can find him?” Calix inquires, continuing to rub soothing circles on my back.

  “Not particularly. There isn’t much left when the ritual is done.” Grim doesn’t show any outward sign that he’s bothered by his announcement, but the tightening around his mouth and the hard edge of his jaw tells me all I need to know—Grim is pissed.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “We can’t j
ust keep waiting for him to kill more Charmed. We need to go after his ass, find him.” The powerlessness I feel colors my tone as my anger toward the unknown man rekindles. Our searches haven’t turned up anything that’s been helpful for finding Antonio or his fucking arcane magic.

  I remember the feeling of helplessness I experienced when Aeson was trapped in his snare, and how desperate I was to save her. If it weren’t for Grim, Aeson would be dead right now. As it is, she’s changed. She’s been touched by death, and not in the good way Grim touches me.

  “There has to be something you missed,” Gunnar snaps when Grim doesn’t provide any more information about the male witch who had enough strength to capture my best friend—twice.

  Grim, again, slowly turns his head to look at Gunnar. His face is completely placid, but I can still feel the underlying threat of violence in the air. Usually, I like that kind of thing, but right now I’m more concerned with the death of my kind than I am with my hormones.

  “Knock it off, Kitten,” I scold Gunnar, who scowls at my demand, but he darts his eyes in my direction. I know he loves it when I call him Kitten, even if he would never admit it.

  “I missed nothing,” Grim states. “After crossing him, I went to the location where the Kelpie was found and tracked him back to another abandoned warehouse.”

  “You went alone?” Calix’s hand falls away from my back as I abruptly stand. From the corner of my eye, I see Gunnar smirk, he knows I’m about to tear into Grim.

  Grim’s brow furrows, and he tilts his head to the side. “That’s a problem?”

  I poke my finger into his chest. “Yes, that’s a problem,” I snarl.

  A small grin curls Grim’s lips. “You’re worried about me.” I can’t tell if he thinks it’s cute that I worry, or if it amuses him.

  I glare at him, feeling defensive. “Of course I worry! No one gets to kill you but me.” It’s an empty threat. I would never hurt him, or Gunnar or Calix for that matter. That makes Grim give me another tiny grin.

  “Don’t do that again,” I warn. “You should have taken us with you.” I cross my arms over my chest. A strange feeling of anxiety worms its way up my belly to lodge itself in the base of my throat.

  Grim reaches out and brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “He poses no danger to me, Omnia, only to what I love.”

  “You can’t be certain. He may have some sort of trap for you too.” The image of Aeson held by a roughly drawn circle with runes etched inside fills my mind again. Hell, I was trapped in one too, even if it was for a short time. What if next time it’s different and we can’t escape it?

  “You could have taken one of us.” Calix motions to himself and Gunnar.

  Grim gives a single shoulder shrug. “You were both here with Dami,” he reasons, as if I needed both of them here to protect me.

  I drag in a deep breath, hoping for patience. “Precisely why you could have taken us all with you. At the very least, you should have told me what you were doing. What if something had happened to you? We wouldn’t have even known where to start looking.” There’s a slight edge of hysteria working its way into my tone.

  Grim’s brow furrows deeply as he reaches for me again, this time dragging me against his chest. I fight him at first, not liking just how much comfort I find in his embrace. “Okay,” he agrees, his voice pitched low. He’s holding me so close, I can feel his chin on the top of my head. I expect him to add more, but he doesn’t. That one, simple word of acquiescence is all he offers, but I believe him nonetheless.

  I’m certain the idea of needing to keep me informed about his wellbeing is just as foreign to him as it is to me. I went from barely speaking to anyone for days on end to having three men around all the time, questioning what I’m doing, what I’m going to do, and if I need anything. It’s a little annoying, to be honest, so I appreciate him being agreeable.

  Grim gives me a tight squeeze before releasing one arm and turning us so we’re facing Calix and Gunnar who have moved a few feet away.

  “Tell us what you’ve learned,” Calix requests, focused on Grim.

  “The ritual was performed in Savannah.” Grim’s fingers absently toy with the bottom of my hair.

  “Georgia?” Gunnar looks off to the left, his eyes clouding. “There are a few covens out that way.”

  “Are you familiar with them?” Calix questions, pushing up the sleeves of his green Henley.

  “No, I’ve been on the West Coast for years, but I can make some calls. Anything more to go on?” The hostility in Gunnar’s voice has been replaced with interest.

  “It was quick, like the troll who was found outside that club,” Grim answers.

  “Which means what?” I trade glances with all three guys.

  “The ritual we stopped was meant to last for days—”

  “You mean the ritual that was going to kill my best friend?” I interrupt Gunnar.

  He nods and continues, “Draining her powers slowly would have ensured they got more out of it. A quick kill would have given them power, yes, but not of the same magnitude.”

  “So, do we think this is someone who escaped Vanessa’s coven?” I sneer her name. Even dead, that bitch pisses me off.

  “Could be.” Grim untangles his fingers from my hair and trails them down my back. I soften against him.

  “It might explain why you were alerted to this one and not any of the others,” Calix surmises.

  Grim gives a small nod in response. “Or they were just in a hurry.”

  “It’s strange that he was able to kill for years—if we believe Vanessa—undetected, but he’s suddenly slipping up now.” I shift my shoulder to hide the shiver I get when Grim’s fingers find a small piece of exposed skin on my lower back.

  “It could still be him. He might be desperate at this point,” Gunnar suggests.

  “Or he could just be cocky,” Calix adds.

  “Probably both,” Gunnar sneers, pushing his hair away from his face. “I need to make a few calls.” He leaves without another word, stomping out of the parlor.

  “I have a few people I can contact too.” Calix takes a few steps in my direction and plants a soft kiss on my lips, uncaring Grim still has his arm wrapped around my back. He pulls away far too soon for my taste. “You can admit it. You like it, don’t you?”

  I lick my lips. “Why wouldn’t I? You taste good.”

  Calix lets out a deep chuckle, it’s sexy and inviting. “I was talking about the new furniture, but it’s good to know I taste good.”

  If I were another woman, I might blush, but I’m not, so I reach for his shirt and drag him in for another kiss. This time, I’m the one to break away. “It’s not so bad, but you could have told me.” I release the fabric of his shirt and settle deeper into Grim’s side.

  Calix bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes slowly. When he reopens them, he looks between Grim and me and lets out a small sigh. “I guess I should make those calls. See you soon?” His eyebrows shoot up as if there’s a question he wants answered.

  Grim’s fingers find the patch of exposed skin on the small of my back again as he lowers his head to whisper, “Find us when you’re done,” near my ear.

  I swallow hard. The words weren’t meant for me. No, they were meant for Calix, and I’ll be damned, but they sounded a little like an invitation.

  Chapter 2

  The moment Calix is out of the room, Grim pushes me up against the wall, and I’m damn near panting with need. I tilt my head back so I can see his beautiful face. Reaching down, he grabs my hand and guides it to his dick. He’s already hard, and the loose pants give me freedom to wrap my fingers around him.

  Grim’s breath hisses through his parted lips. “It’s been too long since I’ve touched you.” He plants one hand on the wall above my head before freeing my wrist, running his fingers across my collarbone and then gliding them down my chest until he presses his palm between my breasts. His eyes close as the tip of his finger taps out the rhythm of my pounding hear
t.

  Grim drags this kind of intimacy from me at every turn. When I want to rush and just feel his skin against mine, he forces me to slow down and absorb the small moments. With my hand still wrapped around his length, I shift to stroke him. Grim’s jaw tics, telling me he’s grinding his teeth, but it still doesn’t spur him into action.

  Resigned to let him move at his own pace, I settle for touching him. Grim’s eyes darken when I release him and reach up to slide the buttons of his shirt open. Normally, I would just rip it apart, since it’s not like it would be hard for him to replace, but I take my time brushing my fingertips and knuckles against him as much as possible. His finger continues to keep the cadence of my pulse, but his eyes are locked on my face. I keep peeking up at him after every button slips free until the shirt splits, leaving his chest and torso completely exposed.

  A small sound of appreciation escapes me. Every inch of Grim is perfection, and when I call him the Angel of Death, I’m not joking. He must have been created by God. A very light dusting of dark hair begins just under his clavicles and flows over his pecs, tapering down his abdominals and eventually thinning into a line I would easily call a happy trail before it reaches his pubic hair.

  His pants are loose enough that they expose just a hint of the thicker hair leading to his heavy cock. “Do you wear anything under your robe?” My voice is husky. I can’t help but think about how he usually chooses light clothing.