Friends With The Monsters - Albany Walker Page 0,52

wishful thinking on my part? “You better not do anything to scare my friends away, and I’m still not cleaning up after you,” I warn.

I’m smarter than this. I shouldn’t be letting them stay, but there’s some part of me that wants them to. Stupid loneliness.

Grim pulls out a stool from under the island, and he places his hand on my back, urging me forward to sit. I jerk away from him a little. I’m not ready for him, or any of the others for that matter, to touch me.

My hormones and head don’t always agree on the order in which I should get what I want. I’m hoping my head will win this battle and hold out for answers, while my body just wants to jump any one of them right here in the kitchen.

I eye Gunnar while he starts helping Calix put away the groceries. Something about him puts me on edge more than the others. I’ve never been one for an angry fuck, but I feel like I could give it to him good.

Grim doesn’t acknowledge the way I spurned his touch. He just pulls out the stool next to me and takes a seat. He inspires a different kind of lust. He’s always so calm and in control, and I’d like to see him tied to my bed, with my black sheets under him and the black blindfold over his eyes. Nothing else. I bet I could make him squirm.

I put my elbows on the counter and cover my eyes with my fingers, while massaging my temples with my thumbs. “What were we talking about upstairs?” I blurt. I have to get these thoughts out of my head.

“You asked why you can’t always sense the truth from us,” Grim supplies without an ounce of hesitation.

“Right, right, and you said you had a theory,” I murmur, recalling the beginnings of the conversation, and urging him to continue.

“Telling whether or not someone is lying to you is a defense mechanism. Maybe some part of you knows you don’t need to use that awareness with me, us,” Grim concludes, amending his slipup.

“Or, you could be blocking me somehow. I just learned about wards, there are a lot of things I’m sure I don’t know about.”

“Wards are cast by witches,” Gunnar states, sneering the last word. “We aren’t witches.”

“You work for one,” I reason.

“I don’t work for her. We have the mutual displeasure of working together. Believe me, it’s not something I enjoy.”

I again try to tell if he’s being truthful, but I can’t. “Why work with her at all then?”

“The witches need to be kept in line, and I’m the one who has to do it, for now,” Gunnar replies.

“Wait, didn’t you say a coven ambushed you? That’s how you ended up hurt here.” I look at the others for confirmation. “A witch’s coven?”

“Yes.” Gunnar scowls and I hear a distinct snicker from Calix.

A loaf of bread goes sailing right over the spot Calix’s head was moments earlier and splats into the wall. The bag explodes on contact, sending crumbs and slices of bread to the floor. Calix pops right back up and puts another roast into the freezer.

“Not all covens take kindly to being watched,” Gunnar continues, as if uninterrupted. “I got a little lazy,” he admits, while brushing is hands together. “But rest assured, I took care of that threat.”

“A little lazy? Last I heard, you haven’t even left the city in years. You’ve been sending your men out to keep an eye on the other covens,” Calix challenges.

“Vanessa’s coven is one of the largest in the country. Hers is the gauge which the others in the region use as a guide,” Gunnar defends indignantly.

“And it had nothing to do with the fact that you didn’t want to get too far away from Damiana?” Calix taunts.

Gunnar takes a step toward Calix. “Knock it off.” I slap my hand on the top of the island. The sting on my palm is welcome.

Gunnar levels a nasty look at Calix but resumes putting away the groceries as if he’s accustomed to the domestic task.

I feel the heat of Grim’s arm as he lays it across the back of my stool. “While we were chosen to be your guardians, we also have other duties,” he adds.

“I can pretty much guess yours.” I give him a little snort. “What about you, Calix?”

“I keep the beasts in line.” He leans his hip against the island. “The largest shifter population is in Russia, so