Some Kind of Monster

by Albany Walker

  “Whoa, okay. That’s a lot.”

  He leans forward, and his voice becomes layered as if many people are speaking at once. “If I end them all, we will no longer have to be bothered by such nonsense.”

  “Grim,” I say slowly. “You don’t need to do that. None of these people are going to hurt us.”

  “I could end everyone.” Again, his voice is layered. I might finally be seeing why he inspires such fear. “If I kill them all, the witch will be dead, and we can go home. I like our home. It’s quiet there.”

  Holy hell, he’s not just talking about everyone here, he’s talking about everybody, maybe even the entire world. “We can go home right now, Grim, just you and me. We can take a break from all the noise.”

  The entire room is collectively holding its breath.

  “Doesn’t that sound nice? I could check on Dare, make sure she has enough to eat. See if Aeson stopped by…” I’m trying to remind him that there are far more people in this world whom I want to save than I would like to see dead, even if one of them is the bastard witch.

  “Yes, we can go home now. I will end them later.” His voice is his own, but cold and detached.

  “Or… just a thought, we could not end the world. I mean, I haven’t even had cake yet. How will I get to try cake if there’s no one to bake it for me? I don’t trust Kitten’s cooking.” I place my hand by my mouth like I’m whispering. “He burns everything, and Calix eats all those vegetables.” I know I’m rambling, but I’m trying to bring him back to me.

  I wave my hand. “We can figure that part out later. Let’s go home and let everyone else clean up this mess. You know I hate cleaning.” I wrap my arms around his body. He feels as hard as stone, but he embraces me back. I make eye contact with Calix and Gunnar, hoping my gaze tells them that everything is going to be okay.

  I don’t even have time to blink before we’re standing in my kitchen. All the lights are off and the drapes are pulled closed. I let out a sigh of relief, but I don’t unwrap my arms from Grim. I do, however, lean back enough to look up at his face. “How about some hot cocoa, Loverboy?”

  Grim looks around my darkened kitchen and his robe dissolves—I wonder if it will be cleaned of all the blood when he dons it again—leaving him in soft sleep pants, no shirt, and bare feet.

  “I think I would like to lie down.” My stomach drops. That’s not what I was expecting. Grim admitted he doesn’t require sleep like the rest of us, though there have been a few times I would argue I’ve caught him sleeping, or resting for lack of a better word, but never for long.

  “Okay.” I look toward the clock on the wall, noting the sun will be up soon. “We can do that,” I agree easily.

  Grim lifts his hand in invitation, and I immediately step forward and take his fingers in mine. He leads us through the house and up the stairs to my room. “Get comfy, I’m going to shower.”

  Grim lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses my knuckles softly before he releases me. I half expected him to join me in the shower, so it throws me off a little as I watch him move across the room toward my bed. Allowing him his solitude, I head into the bathroom, lighting a few candles as I go. The familiar fragrance of my house and the scents of the candles give me a sense of peace. Maybe coming home, even for a little while, was a good idea. I’ve only been away a few days, but I missed all the little things I’ve come to take for granted.

  Not wanting to waste too much time, I tie up my long hair in a bun and take a quick shower. It would still be damp tonight if I went to sleep with it wet.

  After toweling off, I blow out the candles and crawl into bed with Grim, naked. I curl my body close to his, laying my hand on his chest and my leg over his. He doesn’t even stir, but the slow thud of his heart under my hand tells me he’s okay.

  Sleep is slow in coming, but I lie still so I don’t disturb him, and say a little prayer to anyone listening that he will be more like himself when he wakes up this evening.

  I wake up alone, which is rather strange in and of itself. Since the guys have pretty much moved in, someone is usually around. “Grim?” My voice is raspy and low. I wait, but he doesn’t answer.

  Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I grab the robe Grim gave me. The material feels amazing against my skin, so I don’t bother with panties. I doubt anyone else is here anyway, especially with Grim’s presence—my baddies seem to keep their distance from him.

  “Hey, you down here?” I call, as I make my way downstairs. Grim steps out from the doorway leading to the kitchen. I scan his face. His eyes are the same intense gray as usual, and he has a little more color in his complexion. “Hey.” I soften my tone.

  “Good evening, Damiana.” Grim’s voice is subdued. He’s a master at hiding his facial expressions, so it’s a big deal that I can see the dip at the corners of his mouth, even if it’s slight.

  I make my way down the remaining stairs and stop when I’m right in front of him. Grim’s stiff, and he almost looks wary. Before I have a chance to second-guess myself, I step even closer, wrap my arms around his torso, and nuzzle my face against his chest. Grim’s clothes are ridiculously soft, probably made from angel feathers or some shit.

  His arms come around my back, and he lowers his head until it’s resting on the top of mine. “Have you been up long? You could have woken me.”

  “I wanted you to rest,” he replies without answering my question. I stay wrapped in his arms. I don’t know how to bring up last night, or if I should ask him if everything is okay. I’m shit at this kind of stuff, but I really feel like him considering ending the world isn’t something we should just ignore.

  I lean back to see his face and admit, “You’re freaking me out a little, Loverboy.” Grim’s eyes close on a slow blink, and it takes a few seconds before he opens them again.

  “I apologize. I lost control last night. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so angry.” His eyes are trained over the top of my head.

  I reach up and palm his jaw. “Grim, I don’t care that you got angry, you’re allowed to have feelings. If you wanted to slaughter everyone in that room… well, except for Kitten and Calix, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have helped you if you needed me to. What’s freaking me out is how you were after… and now. Like you’re not really here with me.”

  Grim doesn’t move, but his eyes shift to look down at me. “And if I destroyed the world, what then?”

  “I’m not going to pretend that I would be happy about it. There are a lot of people I care about in this world, Grim.” I fist the fabric of his shirt. “But when it comes down to it, I care more about you. I would forgive you, still love you, even if you did do it. That probably makes me a psycho or unhinged or some shit, but it’s the truth. Want to know what else I know is the truth?”

  Grim barely moves his head an inch, but I see his tiny nod.

  “I don’t think you would do it, no matter how mad you were. We all feel like we want to set the world on fire sometimes. You just have the ability to actually do it. It doesn’t mean you would have gone through with it.”

  Grim wets his lips. “I’m not used to being so angry,” he admits.

  I tap my fingers on his chest. “Well, I used to be angry all the time, so I have lots of practice. Plus…” I waggle my eyebrows. “I can show you some really great ways to take the edge off.”

  The corner of Grim’s lips tip up, and he lowers his eyelids. I can just see the glow of those fiery embers stoking to life. It’s the first time since last night that I can take a deep breath. I didn’t realize how scared I was that something had changed within him or with us. His hands, which were holding me gently, caress me instead. He leans down and rests his forehead against mine, and I close my eyes. With a whispered confession, I give Grim my truth, and it rings with certainty in my soul.

  “I would burn the world for you too.”

  Chapter 16

  “It’s been days, and we still don’t know shit,” I grouse as I sulk.

 
; “Do you want to just go home and wait to see if Antonio shows up again?” Calix offers.

  “We don’t have to go home, but do we need to stay here?” I hate Kim’s house, and Torin seems to be getting his shit together with his pack, for now at least. The party that ended in bloodshed did wonders to convince anyone who wanted to challenge the alpha to back down.

  “We could find another rental if it’s a big deal to you.” Gunnar is cleaning a blade with an oil stained cloth. He even fixed Kim’s front door, and Calix jerry-rigged the kitchen table legs. The thought of Kim loading it up with groceries or food and collapsing the thing gives me secret joy.

  “I mean, do we need to stick around here? Do you think Torin still needs you? He seems somewhat stable.”

  Calix snorts. “He’s killed about ten shifters in the last four days. I’m not sure that’s anyone’s version of stable.”

  I wave my hand dismissively. “So he has a little pent-up aggression, better he takes it out on assholes than self-destructing.”

  “Torin mentioned last night he wanted to help us get rid of Antonio.” Calix looks slightly guilty. “I may have encouraged the idea so he would stop picking fights and find another purpose.”

  “Gahhh.” I toss my head back. “Shouldn’t he be busy finding someone to take over the pack for him? I thought he was going to go rogue wolf and shit.”

  Gunnar chuckles. “I thought you liked the wolf.”

  “I do,” I say in a rush. “But… should we be encouraging him to get involved with Antonio? What if something happens to him? It would be our fault, and then Calix would have to deal with the whole pack-needing-an-alpha issue again. It gives me a headache just thinking about having to deal with Kim again on a daily basis. I think I would just put us both out of our misery and kill her this time.”

  “I’m not going to throw myself at the witch so he can kill me, doll. Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Torin deadpans.

  “Are you part Brownie?” I scowl at him. The man, or should I say wolf, can move as silently as my best friend.

  “No.” He slaps the side of my foot that’s hanging off the arm of the chair in a teasing manner. “If a guy is in my city killing Charmed, it’s my duty to make sure he’s stopped.”

  I sit up and look around to see if he brought Kim with him. I really don’t understand their relationship. She seems to worship the ground Torin walks on, and he just tolerates her, for lack of a better word. “But we’re here to take care of it for you, so you don’t need to worry your big head about it.”

  “My big head? If your eyes were any bigger, you would look like a kewpie doll, doll.” I swear to the stars, Torin is like the big brother I never knew I had or wanted. I reach up and touch under my eyes and frown.

  “Do you really think it’s a good idea to insult her, considering the last guy who did is stuck in some sort of purgatory, reliving his death over and over?” Calix drawls. I don’t think any of us expected the familial relationship Torin and I have apparently forged almost overnight.

  “If Death wants to take me.” Torin widens his arms and plops on the sofa opposite Gunnar.

  “See? You do have a death wish.” I point in his direction. “And I don’t look like a doll. Unless it’s one of those creepy dolls. I would be okay with that.” I nod, but they all ignore me.

  “Where is the reaper anyway?” Torin looks around.

  “He’s everywhere,” I whisper, and wave my fingers under my chin.

  “Shower, I think,” Calix supplies at the same time.

  “So, any news on the witch?” Torin makes himself comfortable, draping his arm along the back of the couch.

  “Nothing from the Pixies.” Gunnar puts down the blade he was working on and picks up another from the coffee table.

  “Grim hasn’t been called away, so we’re not even sure if the guy’s still in the area,” I mutter dejectedly. My Loverboy is still a little more reserved than usual—similar to how he was when he first revealed himself to me—but he’s coming around slowly. This wouldn’t be a good time to push him, though. I don’t think it would end well for anyone involved.

  “I wish we knew a way to track the asswipe down before he killed someone else, instead of always being one step behind him,” Calix grumbles, summing up exactly what I’ve been thinking.

  “I have a pretty good relationship with most of the Charmed around the city. Let me see if I can find anything out. You said this guy’s name is Antonio and he runs with the witches, right?”

  “Yeah, he was working with the head of the coven, kept a pretty low profile.” Gunnar examines the tip of the blade he’s cleaning, his eyes going unfocused. “Fuckers were killing right under my nose and I didn’t even know it.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out. A few of the guys mix it up with the witches. Some of them even come to the pack looking to get changed into a shifter for a more permanent magical solution. Might be a good enough incentive to loosen lips.”

  “Couldn’t hurt; it’s worth a shot,” Calix agrees.

  “How exactly does that work? The change, I mean?” It seems like the witches should just all become shifters instead of killing people to get powers. Torin tilts his head to the side, examining me then Calix.

  “Lycanthropy is contagious. All it takes is a bite for them to become infected,” Calix informs me.

  “Why doesn’t she already know this?” Torin questions.

  “I never asked,” I counter, defending Calix when it feels like Torin is accusing him of something. “Plus, Calix is the first shifter I ever met. Well, that I ever got to know anyway. I may have met others.”

  “What, were you living under a rock?” Torin snorts.

  “No, but none ever came to me. Forea’s not a shifter, right?” I ask Calix.

  “Forea, you know Forea?” Torin’s eyes are wide with disbelief.

  “She lives in the forest near my house.”

  “She’s in every forest. And no, she isn’t a shifter,” Calix answers.

  “But you’ve spoken to her?” Torin presses with a little bit of awe in his voice.

  “Yeah, I feel like she speaks in riddles half the time though.”

  “So, wait.” Torin sits forward and places his elbows on his knees. “You’re saying Forea came to you, and others have too?” He looks over at Calix for an explanation.

  “Lots of baddies visit me all the time. Well, I haven’t been getting as many visitors lately,” I reply, then lower my voice, “but I think Grim scares them a little.”

  Torin barks out a short laugh. “Ya think?”

  I ignore him and get back to the topic at hand. “How do people know about shifters so they can ask to be changed? Isn’t there some rule about secrets and shit?”

  “We keep it under wraps, but there will always be people who believe there is more to the world than what is easily seen.” Torin makes it sound simple.

  “Why don’t the witches just become shifters then, instead of stealing powers?”

  “They can’t and don’t turn everyone, and not everyone wants to be bound to an animal.” Calix shrugs. “They think they’ll remain more human using witchcraft, plus just being a shifter doesn’t make you magical. Charmed, sure, but Torin can’t cast a spell to make himself more handsome or to stop aging.”

  “Yeah, I come by all this naturally.” Torin crosses his eyes and purses his lips. I snort at the way he’s making fun of himself. I may have three mates, and I’m not looking to add more, but I can admit he’s damn good looking. Much more so now that he’s not all skin and bones. He certainly has the silver fox thing working for him.

  Grim enters the room and walks over to sit on the arm of my chair. His posture is perfect, and even in dark jeans and a t-shirt, he looks like he’s posing. I smile up at him. “You were in the shower for a long time, everything okay?”

  “Adequate, considering I was alone.” My eyes bug out a little. Did he just tell me he was in the shower jacking off? I’m probably just reading too mu
ch into the statement. I have such a dirty mind.

  I stifle a giggle and glance over at Gunnar who’s shaking his head with a sneer on his lips. He’s thinking the same thing as me.

  “Torin was just offering to talk to a few of the local witches,” Calix says. He probably knows that this conversation could devolve into sexual innuendos quickly. He knows me too well. We really were all made for each other.

  “Isn’t that nice of him to offer a hand?” I roll my lips in to hide my smile. I really can’t help myself from teasing.

  Calix turns his head slowly to stare at me. I know exactly what he’s thinking: ‘Really?’

  “I suppose. Antonio may already be cultivating a new relationship with other witches,” Grim muses. “Although his hand won’t be needed. Your hand, however…” Grim grabs my hand and places it on his dick.

  “Jesus!” Gunnar barks.

  I just toss my head back and laugh. Grim is definitely feeling better if he’s actually comfortable enough to joke and tease around Torin, even if his humor is super dry.

  I give him an affectionate little stroke and promise, “Later,” before removing my hand from his crotch.

  Torin has a strange mixture of emotions on his face when I look up. The subtle tipping of his lips says he gets the humor of the moment, but the way his eyelids are a little low, paired with the crinkling high on his cheeks, tells me it’s more of a wince than a smile. I want to reach over and grab his hand to tell him that I was blessed with more than one mate, so maybe he will be too, but I bite my tongue. That’s not something I would want to hear if something happened to one of my guys. It might actually make me go on a murder spree.

  I clear my throat. “Anyway, talking to the witches is a start. It’s better than just sitting here on our butts.”

  “Ah, but it’s such a nice butt,” a feminine voice purrs.

  I jump up and bellow, “You! Where the fuck have you been?”

  Aeson looks completely unapologetic as she saunters into the room—all five plus inches of her, give or take. “I missed you too, Dami.” She stops a few feet shy of Torin and lets her eyes roam over him as if he’s a snack and she’s starving. Placing her hands with red tipped fingernails on her hips, she says, “Well, hello there, big boy,” in some sort of mock, Betty-Boop accent.