Some Kind of Monster

by Albany Walker

  “How much longer do you think it will take? Should we just go up to the room?” I glance at my phone, noting that I don’t have any messages or missed calls from the guys or Aeson.

  “It won’t be long. The Berserker was eager to be rid of the vehicle.” Grim’s fingers twitch at his side. It draws my attention, because he’s usually so very still and in control of his movements.

  “You good?” Taking a step closer, I invade his space.

  Grim’s fingers stop moving instantly and he dips his chin infinitesimally. “This building has seen more death than most.”

  I look around at the shiny checkered floor and all the gleaming surfaces. There isn’t a Magical stain left on the building, so I can’t feel the deaths in the same way I can when a ritual is performed to kill the Charmed. I would never guess that this place has a deadly history. “Did you want to go somewhere else?” I rest my palm on Grim’s chest. “I can call Gunnar and tell him to meet us at another hotel.”

  Grim places his hand over my fingers, trapping them against his chest. “No need. The divide here is just thinner. I can feel the spirits that linger.”

  “Ghost?” I raise my brows. “This place really is haunted?” Squinting my eyes, I look around again, this time hoping to see a specter like Redmon or Bloody Mary.

  “These are shades. They gather in places where the boundaries are delicate, and the living draw them in, much in the same way flames draw moths.”

  “Are they stuck on the other side?” The sharp sting of pity burns in the back of my throat. All I can imagine is a creature like Theius, constantly searching for something and never obtaining it, as though it’s just out of reach.

  Grim places his free hand on my chin, tipping it up so I can meet his gray eyes. “They’re merely shadows of the creatures they once were, Omnia. The in-between isn’t a place where anything can survive for long. It’s meant to be a stop, not a destination.”

  “Then why are they there?” I stare at the wall as if I might see the creatures of whom he’s speaking.

  “Most are too afraid to cross. Some are convinced they can find a way back. No one can force them to move on, not even me.” Grim releases my chin, but I tuck myself even closer to him.

  “What happens to their souls?” My voice is just above a whisper.

  Grim rests his chin on the top of my head. I feel a small sigh leave his chest before he answers. “They dissolve slowly over time, until nothing remains but the shades.”

  I shiver. “Why would they choose that?” I breathe.

  “They are trapped by the fear of where they would go if they crossed. We’re not talking about people who lived good lives, Damiana. Most of those shades are dark witches or humans who behaved more like monsters than any of the creatures you call your friends.”

  “So they choose this instead of Hell?” I lean back so I can see his face.

  “They choose this over the chance of going to Hell,” he corrects with all too knowing eyes.

  Chapter 5

  The front door snaps open, sending a loud crash through the lobby. Gunnar stalks in with a scowl on his face, not even acknowledging the fact that he could have broken the door off the hinges.

  He ignores the startled gasp from the front desk clerk and makes his way over to Grim and me. I’m still a little unnerved by the shade conversation with Grim, but I plaster a welcoming smile on my face to greet him. “Hey.” I pull free of Grim’s embrace as Gunnar steps up to us.

  Gunnar’s eyes scan over me. Satisfied by what he finds, he takes a look around the lobby. His lips dip into a sneer. “Tell me this is only temporary.”

  “It’s suitable for the day,” Grim answers. “What about the Nemean?”

  “He shifted the moment we parked the car.” Gunnar shrugs indifferently.

  I cover a yawn with the back of my hand. Sunrise is coming soon, and I’m pretty tired considering all I did was sit in a car for a few hours.

  “Let’s head up to the room. The Nemean will be along shortly.” Grim places his palm on my lower back and urges me toward the elevator.

  “Will it take him much longer?” I look between the two of them.

  “A few hours at most,” Grim tells me.

  “What floor?” Gunnar hits the up arrow on the elevator.

  I pull the keycard from my back pocket and flip it over. “Fourth, room four-eleven. A few hours… so he can’t” —I wave my free hand around and raise my brow— “just pop up like you two once he’s shifted?”

  Gunnar crosses his arms over his chest and widens his stance. “No, he can travel much faster than a car, but it will still take him time to get here.” The burnished gold door slides back, revealing a smallish elevator car. I get a nudge to move forward and the guys both follow me inside. Gunnar hits the button for the top floor, and the door lingers open for just a moment before gliding closed silently. “I’ll see about getting us a better place to stay this morning,” he says, not in the least worried about Calix and how long it will take him to reach us.

  “I would prefer something more private.” Grim seems completely disinterested, almost apathetic, but for him to have spoken up, it must mean something to him. Gunnar jerks his head once, agreeing with Grim’s words.

  The elevator dips before coming to a halt, and then the door opens to a brightly lit hall painted a cheery yellow with white accents. “This way.” Gunnar points to the left. Our room is only a few steps away from the elevator. I shimmy myself between them and tap the keycard on the lock. Once it beeps and the light glows green, Gunnar reaches for the handle and pushes it open with a hard shove. It bangs against the wall.

  “Geez!” I glare at him. He looks a little sheepish for a moment, and then he lifts his hand in an invitation for me to enter ahead of him. I step into the darkness and my nose wrinkles. It stinks of cleaning supplies, creating an artificial clean smell, yet under that it reeks of staleness, almost like they’re using chemicals to cover up the scent of dampness and musk. Without any light, I can already feel how stuffy the room is. “Yeah, we definitely need someplace else to stay.” Disappointment seeps into my tone.

  Someone hits the lights and a lamp near the one bed glares to life. I look around the tiny room, noting the two little chairs—I really hope Gunnar doesn’t try to sit in one of those, it will break for sure—and the tiny table between them. “One bed?” Gunnar steps up behind me. “Big spoon,” he announces in the next breath.

  Grim steps around me and lumbers over to the long window, pulling the curtains back for only a moment before releasing the fabric with a flick. The closest thing to disgust I’ve ever seen is present on his face when he turns to me.

  I let out a small giggle at the absurdity of his reaction. Death is appalled by a fairly mediocre hotel room. Hell, this place is nice compared to some I’ve seen. But I doubt you can rent this one by the hour either like a few I’ve been to. Grim straightens and smooths his features.

  I wiggle my finger back and forth under my nose, blocking my nostrils. “It stinks.”

  “It’s the humidity. Everything is always damp,” Gunnar informs me, still standing near the doorway. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I do not want to get used to it,” I sneer. “At least it smells clean. I think they used an entire bottle of bleach in here.”

  Gunnar drops himself on the edge of the bed and the frame creaks. Those chairs won’t stand a chance. Might be funny if he ended up on his butt. “What are you smiling at?” He scowls.

  I wave my hand. “Nothing, Kitten.” The glower drops immediately at my nickname for him.

  “I left the bags in the car. Think you could grab them?” Gunnar tilts his chin toward Grim.

  “I don’t know where the car is.”

  Gunnar smiles, but it looks more like a baring of teeth. “Well, if you hadn’t disappeared so quickly…” He leaves ‘you would’ unsaid.

  Grim rolls his shoulders a bit. “How far is it from where we left you?”

  “About two
miles. There’s a truck stop service station. I parked it on the side, out of the way of the main lot.”

  “I’ll find it,” Grim states.

  A bang on the door startles me and I spin around.

  “That was fast,” Gunnar mumbles under his breath, as he hops up and walks the few steps to the door, opening it without even verifying who it is.

  Calix has both hands braced against the doorframe. His bare chest is heaving as he gulps in lungsful of air as if he’s been running. I move in his direction. “Are you okay?” He steps into the room, his nose wrinkling as he quickly glares around the space. Calix tosses the crumpled fabric in his hand on the bed. It takes a moment for me to realize it’s his shirt.

  “F-Fine,” he finally pants, making direct eye contact with me after he assesses the room, seeming to find it as lacking as the rest of us.

  Gunnar snorts and pushes the door shut too hard, so it slams. “Kitten, we need to use our manners,” I warn him, so we don’t disturb the entire fourth floor. The man-child gives me a slight eyeroll, and I snicker a bit. I do love his little tantrums.

  “Took you long enough,” Gunnar goads Calix, even though he’s only been here a handful of minutes himself, and he told me it would probably take Calix hours to arrive.

  Calix turns slowly to face the other man. There’s something exceptionally graceful about the way Calix moves. It’s even more pronounced now. I’m not sure if it’s because he just came out of a shift or not. He tilts his head slightly and lowers his chin. “I can’t just snap my fingers and fucking appear.” Calix’s voice isn’t much more than a growl.

  He’s usually laid back, making a joke out of how easy it is to rile up Gunnar, but he seems pretty on edge himself right now.

  “Grim, did you say you were going to get the stuff from the car?” I interject to de-escalate the situation like a fucking adult. That’s all we need, them trashing a hotel room like a bunch of teenagers. I don’t know if I should feel proud of myself or check to see if someone delivered my AARP card for senior citizen discounts in the past few weeks.

  I cut my eyes to Gunnar, as if he’s the one to blame for my newfound maturity. The look on my face must say a lot, because he jerks his head back and looks around a little confused as to why he’s on the receiving end of my ire. Wisely, he doesn’t poke at Calix again, and it seems to work. Calix, still breathing hard, returns his gaze to mine.

  I school my features and wait for Grim’s response. “I will shortly, now that the Nemean has arrived,” he answers, then lifts one elegant finger into the air and makes a small circle. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “What?” My mind immediately starts constructing scenarios of him telling me he’s leaving for good.

  “This hovel.” Grim pulls his shoulders back as if he’s waiting for someone to argue. I don’t acknowledge the relief I feel when I realize my thoughts were misplaced. I don’t want my first thought to be that they’re going to leave me when shit like this happens, but I don’t think pretending it didn’t happen is the right thing to do to make it stop.

  “I’ll get us an Airbnb,” Gunnar says, returning to the end of the bed where he was sitting before Calix arrived.

  “Something with more privacy. You should have seen the receptionist’s face when I walked in. She had her hand on the phone, ready to call the cops on me, I’m sure.” Calix heads straight to the bathroom, not waiting for anyone’s reply before closing himself inside.

  “Walking around half naked in the middle of the night probably didn’t help your case.” Gunnar leans back and folds his arm behind his head, relaxing.

  “She’s lucky I was only half naked,” Calix retorts loudly through the door.

  “So are you,” I mumble under my breath. All three of them make me irrationally territorial. I thought after a little time passed, it would get better, but I’m still waiting.

  “Don’t worry, Dami. I like my parts right where they are, and fortunately for me, I know you do too.” Calix struts out of the bathroom. His hair is damp around his face as if he may have splashed some water on himself. There are a few drops of water sprinkled on his chest too. I get distracted for a moment.

  “I never threatened to cut your parts off.” I try for an innocent sulk, but I know I fail miserably. “I just told her what would happen if she bumped into you again.” He’s referencing a night a few weeks ago. We went to check out Vanessa’s old club. There’s a new witch running it now, and we needed to make sure she wasn’t up to the bitchy dead witch’s antics.

  Calix tosses his head back and laughs. I rake my eyes over him. Damn, he looks delectable. His easy grin has returned, and he looks at me with a twinkle in his eye. “You told her if she needed a dick so badly, you’d ‘saw one off and shove it in her head.’ I’m just relieved to know you weren’t talking about mine.”

  “Of course I wasn’t talking about yours,” I scoff quietly. Hearing him say it out loud, I have to admit it does seem rather harsh, but she did brush up against him three times. I think I showed restraint. I mean, I didn’t do it, did I?

  Grim walks over and places a soft sweet kiss on my temple. “The sun is almost up. Get some rest. I will return soon.” I lean against him and gather a bit of his shirt as I give him a tight half hug.

  “No staying gone forever without checking in,” I warn, taking in a deep breath of his unique scent. He still makes my mouth water, but I haven’t been eating very much. I feel like something inside me shifted when I consumed those souls the night we killed Vanessa. I won’t allow the fact that she offed herself before we could do it sully the memory of her death.

  “Never forever.” He cradles my cheeks and slides his lips over mine in a delicate dance of destruction. I lean up on my toes to steal a few moments more as he begins to pull away.

  Before I open my eyes, I hear the bathroom door shut loudly. It’s not slammed though, so I’ll take that as a win. I don’t need to look to know it was Gunnar. He’s still not okay with open affection, unless it’s him showing the affection, that is. Then he doesn’t mind at all.

  Chapter 6

  I’m used to waking up hot—horny too, considering I’m between at least two very sexy men—but this is damn near ridiculous. The room is so hot, I’m literally damp with sweat. I went to bed in just my t-shirt and panties since Grim hadn’t returned with my things when I climbed onto the lumpy, overused bed.

  I push my arms against Gunnar’s chest, vying for enough space to free myself from him and Calix. He doesn’t even budge, the big bastard. Instead he lets out a rattling snore. “I’m cooking. This is how I’m going to die. Stuck between you two like some fucking hog on a spit.”

  “Shush.” Calix strokes his fingers mostly over my hair, but he misses and ends up dragging his sleep heavy hand half down my face, pulling down my lips.

  “I can’t shush, I can barely breathe,” I growl out dramatically.

  I feel Calix pop his head off the pillow. “What’s wrong?” Instead of releasing me, he gathers me even closer against his body.

  “Let me up. It’s too hot.” I groan and start to wiggle. I seriously need out of this bed. His weight slides off me and I bolt upright. “Stars, is the air even on?” I utter Grim’s curse, looking around the room to see if the bed has somehow been teleported to a dimension of Hell.

  “It’s the South.” I look over my shoulder and watch Calix wiggle a bit, getting comfortable again. He’s only wearing his white jockey undies. It’s a fucking sin he can make them look so good. The bulge he sports would be hard pressed to look anything but delectable in any form of underclothes.

  Shaking my head, I scoot off the end of the bed. The slight whirl of air circling my skin causes gooseflesh on my arms. I make my way to the bathroom, tugging my damp shirt off as I go, and toss it on the worn carpet.

  The hotel room curtains are heavy, leaving the room fairly dark, but I’m still able to see myself in the small oval mirror over the pedestal sink. My hair is a matted mess and slightly damp at
the back of my neck and around my temples. “Damn.” I flip the tap on and cup the cool water in my palms to splash on my cheeks. After the third time, I decide I need more than a couple handfuls. Abandoning the sink altogether, I head to the shower instead.

  The cold water makes me shiver at first, but it’s such a relief that I let the water soak my hair and back before warming it up a little bit and continuing my shower.

  I use the entire tiny bottle of conditioner on my hair, making sure to coat the ends the most. It’s still going to be a bear to brush, but it’s better than nothing. The room darkens slightly, so I peer over my shoulder to see Gunnar leaning against the doorframe. I open my mouth to ask him if he would like to join me, but he lifts his finger to his mouth, silently telling me to be quiet.

  I arch an eyebrow in challenge, but before I can respond, he steals my words by sliding his big hand to the front of his boxers and gripping his dick. Forgetting all about my objection, I watch him, transfixed on the movement of his arm as he watches me while giving himself a few lazy strokes.

  Gunnar pushes away from the doorframe and hooks his thumbs into the waist of his shorts, pushing them down his thighs. He’s already hard, and his dick pops up a tiny bit when freed. Not taking his eyes off me, he taps the door closed a little, making sure to leave it open enough so the small bathroom won’t be left in complete darkness.

  I slide the shower door open and stand back, allowing him entrance. Gunnar lets out a small gasp when the water hits him. It’s not nearly as cold as it once was, but it’s nowhere near hot either. I open my mouth again, but he steals my voice by slamming his lips against mine in a punishing kiss. I rip my face away from him and glare, but he ignores me and crowds even closer until my back is against the white tile of the small cubical shower.

  No longer even registering the temperature of the water, Gunnar strokes his fingers up my body. His touch is rough, as even the skin on the palms of his hands is scarred and callused, reminding me there isn’t much that’s gentle about the beast in front of me—other than his heart that is, and only when it comes to me.