Friends With The Monsters - Albany Walker Page 0,29

he woke up at my house, he’s somehow blocking me. Interesting.

I lean my upper body toward him and whisper, “Do you really want to know?”

He takes a slow step in my direction and his eyes dilate. I know I have his attention. “Yes.” He nods.

“Then tell me what you are,” I demand in my normal tone, leaning back again.

“You can’t tell yet?” He seems almost surprised. A small grin lifts one side of his mouth before he smothers it with a frown.

“I thought you were human when you were all bloody.” I shrug my shoulders as I remind him that I’ve seen him when he was vulnerable. “But it’s obvious you’re not. You healed too fast.” I tap my finger on my chin thinking. “You don’t taste like one of my baddies.”

“One of your baddies,” Gunnar repeats, dumbfounded. “What are your baddies, and how many do you have?” His voice is deeper.

“Oh, lots. Tons,” I confirm.

“Tons?” He swallows.

“Well, not tons really.” I roll my eyes. “But lots.”

“And what do those baddies taste like?” Gunnar lifts his chin and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Like darkness and nightmares.” I smile.

He blinks at me for several moments. Eventually, I frown. He seems really weirded out. “So…” I prompt, trying to encourage Gunnar to talk again.

He shakes his head like he was lost in thought. “What do I taste like?” He turns his head to the side and waits for my response like he’s scared to hear it.

“I can’t get a good read on you. When you were injured, you tasted like pain.” I purse my lips. “You must be blocking me somehow now.”

He stands up a little taller. “Oh, well, okay then.” The middle of his forehead wrinkles over his nose. “And the baddies?” he asks again.

“I already told you about my friends.”

“Your friends,” he repeats slowly.

I throw my hands in the air. “Why are we talking about this? It’s not like I go around tasting my friends for sins.”

“You brought it up,” he defends.

I glare over at Gunnar. Should I just ask him why he’s having someone watch me? No, this is entertaining. “What are you?” I inquire again, reminding him if he wants me to talk, he has to give me information first.

“Human…mostly,” he hedges.

“Liar,” I singsong. Even if I don’t know what he is, I still know a lie when I hear it.

“I was… a long time ago.” Gunner opens and closes his fists several times.

“That explains a little, but what are you now?” I tilt my head, examining him.

“A Berserker,” he grumbles out quickly.

Chapter 9

“A Berserker?” I roll the word over my tongue. I’ve only heard that name once before, when Grim was talking to the man outside my house. I’ll have to ask Aeson for details, she’ll probably know. I’m sure not going to ask him.

“Now, tell me more about your friends.” Gunnar walks over to the desk and pulls out the chair.

“I thought you wanted to talk about the wards?” I remind him.

He waves his hand as he sits and the chair squeaks in response. “I’m more interested in these baddies.”

“Why do you want to know about them?” I narrow my eyes on him.

“Just curious. I don’t call my friends ‘my baddies.’” Gunnar drags himself closer to the desk, his knees slamming into the underside. “Mother—” He tightens his mouth and adjusts his legs again. Not his desk then after all.

“Do you not believe I have friends?” I lift my chin in the air. I may not have any human friends, but my friends are better than humans anyway. Humans scare way too easily.

Gunnar holds his hands out defensively. “I was just curious. I was thinking they were your… never mind,” he concedes. “I got off track.” Gunnar makes a circle over his temple with his pointer finger.

I nod my head and agree. He has. If I want to get more information out of him, I should probably be a little more cooperative, too. “I really didn’t know about the wards. I just felt a thickness in the air.” I run my fingers over my thumbs and palms, thinking about another way to describe it, but come up empty. “It made me curious.”

Gunnar makes a sound between a snort and a huff. “Considering the wards are designed to do the exact opposite of making people curious, it’s no wonder they didn’t deter you.” He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What’s the big deal? I don’t care about Vanessa and her miscreants.” I eye the small sofa,