Page 15 of Friends With the Monsters
“Why not?” My back goes ramrod straight.
“I can’t tell you.” I can’t tell if he’s lying or not. Strange.
“Can’t or won’t?” I find myself asking again this week.
“It’s…complicated,” he offers.
I let out a dark chuckle. “That’s a vague book status, not a real answer.”
“What is vague book?” The hood tilts.
“It’s not a real thing, I was making a joke about Face…never mind.” I roll my eyes, a little irritated.
“I can visit you now, though,” he volunteers. I let out a sigh, feeling like I’m being left out, but it’s always been that way. I accept the monsters—accept I’m one, too—but they still treat me like I’m different.
“Fine.” I huff, standing and snatching my mug. I’m regretting the hot chocolate. It isn’t sitting right in my stomach tonight.
“I don’t think anything you said is necessarily weird,” Grim tells me as I rinse out my mug and place it in the dishwasher. The way he worded his statement once again leaves me unable to read if he’s telling the truth or not.
I look up at the ceiling. “It’s more a vibe than anything else. I feel like something has shifted. It’s hard to explain.” I can think of a few, more-subtle details, such as the way Gunnar knew right where my dishwasher was. How something about him felt familiar. There was even something about the lion that called to me, but I don’t know how to put it into words. I’m probably overthinking this whole thing.
“You should always listen to your instincts,” Grim advises, bringing his mug over to the sink. I take it from him and rinse it, placing it in the washer next to mine.
“I feel like that should have been said with more dramatic flair, and maybe some ominous music.” I turn to look at him. “You should lose the robe.”
He smooths his hand over his chest and stomach. “You don’t think this look works for me?”
“Depends on what you’ve got going on underneath there.” I fold my arms over my stomach and squint my eyes. “Most images depict you as a skeleton, but I saw your hand,” I remind him.
“You did,” he confirms. I stare over at him. I think he’s staring back, but he could be looking out the window for all I know. I give him a shrug, if he wants to wear the robe, so be it.
“Want to play a game or watch a movie?”
Grim shakes his head a little. “I wish I could, but I need to go. Duty calls.” Truth.
I deflate. “Really? But you just got here.” I sound needy, but I don’t care. I’m lonely.
Before he can answer, I feel the awareness of the rage seeping into the room. Looking behind him, I see a slight shimmer in the air.
“You don’t carry the sins,” I observe, looking back at him. It’s the first time I’ve actually thought about the sins he usually brings to feed me, and how I haven’t felt them since he first arrived.
“No, they are attached to souls on the other side.” He takes a step back, getting closer to the shimmer.
“I really am grateful. Thank you,” I murmur with complete sincerity. He’s been coming to me since I was far too young to find more sustainable meals on my own. He doesn’t respond.
“Don’t be a stranger.” I wave as he takes another step back, disappearing along with the mouthwatering essence that came the same time the shimmer appeared. I just ate, but my stomach grumbles at the missed opportunity.
I glance around the empty room, it’s still early. Maybe Theius or Samson will stop by. I sure don’t feel like going back to the club tonight.
Instead of watching a movie, I throw on a sweater to head outside. Living way out here makes it easy for my friends to visit, but the isolation gets to me sometimes. I slide my feet into my boots and decide to go find Forea, the heart of the forest. She’s always in the woods. Maybe she’ll even know about the lion.
Chapter 6
Itrudge through the woods, my boots growing heavier with every step. The ground is sodden with recent rain. I find myself walking next to the narrow path, rather than walking on it, to avoid the deeper mud.
The calls of frogs and crickets keep me company as I move deeper into the forest. I hear and feel the thump of a fast-moving animal before I can see it. Within seconds, I spot a large buck leaping over fallen trees and brush about fifty feet to my left. I must have spooked him, even though I’m trying to be quiet. “Well, at least I know the lion didn’t eat you.” I continue walking once he’s disappeared, being mindful of how much noise I’m making as I go.
A clearing eventually comes into view, one that always seems to be bathed in moonlight no matter how cloudy or overcast the night might be.
