Friends with the Monsters (Friends with the Monsters, #1)

by Albany Walker

I always felt a gnawing hunger aching in my stomach, yet no matter how many bottles of milk or jars of food my mother tried to feed me, I could not eat.

I have other companions who hide themselves from me, too, one of whom only comes when I truly am sleeping. He sneaks into my house, leaving me little trinkets to tell me he’s been here.

I brush his long dark hair away from his face, revealing several scars marring his features. He’s rugged, but achingly masculine. There’s a thick white line through both of his lips, disfiguring his mouth a bit, but it doesn’t detract from how handsome he is. He’s battle worn, and his scars show just how many conflicts he’s survived.

I’m too blunt, too set in my ways to have only one man warming my bed.

I leave him alone in my bedroom before I decide his wounds definitely don’t look that bad and ask him if he would like help washing his back.

“Are you a government experiment gone wrong? Just escaped their mind control and gained your freedom?”

Her emotions are justified, so the smudge left on her soul for the searing hate she’s feeling doesn’t so much as leave a mark, but more of a scar. This is something that will shape the rest of her future.

“We can’t all be here at once. There are others that have been waiting their turn.”

“You’re asking Death if he wants hot cocoa?”

“Grim is fine.”

one sleeve pulls back enough so I can see some of his human looking hand.

“I won’t yak in your kitchen,” he tells me, and I’m certain I can hear his smile this time.

“You should lose the robe.” He smooths his hand over his chest and stomach. “You don’t think this look works for me?”

another man appears right next to him out of thin air.

“That’s just an Aeson thing. Most people don’t eat off other people’s faces.”

“You could eat his face off, since everyone talks when you’re munching on their eyelids.”

“Then you can eat his face, or I’ll do it for you.”

I know for a fact Aeson hasn’t chewed on anyone who didn’t deserve it.

Who knew what a thrill it would be to have someone stalking you?

Grim, who’s completely cloaked in his robe. The only new addition would be the gleaming scythe curved over his head.

His voice is layered, making it sound as if several people are speaking at once.

“I want you to tell the Berserker that I know the pact has been broken. Without the covenant in place, all deals are off.” Grim takes a step closer to the man. “He broke the decree, and now he will deal with the consequences.”

He’s pushed up his sleeves, baring his forearms: the sexy man equivalent of exposed cleavage.

“Calix.

“Is an hour long enough to wait before I call?”

The man grabs his chest and starts coughing violently. Even though I don’t want to, I release the hold I have on his soul.

The first time I ripped out someone’s soul was by accident.

I had eaten her soul instead of her sins. It was a very effective lesson on meal planning.

“If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask. Not almost get some idiot killed to get it.”

“A Berserker,”

I think I would like to tame him.

“I want you around,” he answers quickly, then his lips thin. “I mean, I want you to be safe. People are willing to do stupid things for power.”

“Anyone with any supernatural senses can tell you’re powerful, Damiana,”

I watch Gunnar’s back as it expands, and I can see a fine tremor work its way down from his head and chest. What the hell is that?

The veins along the sides of his neck are standing out thickly, and his eyes seem to almost sink in deeper, making his brow even more pronounced.

my lady.”

sharper than normal teeth.

“You will go where I think you’ll be safest,” Gunnar argues.

“Gunnar, you better quit putting your hands on me without my permission.”

my lady.”

“Go home, Damiana. I’ll come to you when I can.”

corrupted humans

“Witches, I suppose,” he drawls,

It’s only when he opens his mouth that you get to see what he really looks like.

“Dirty magic,”

He usually just sticks around for a game of cards, and then he’s on his way to haunt parks and children’s yards.

Theius

maybe three and a half feet,

shaggy, grayi...

His claw-tipped fingers