Page 39 of Friends With the Monsters
“Listen, Kitten, we only have room for one drama queen, and that’s me, thank you very much. So take it down a notch, will ya?” I pat the sofa next to me, indicating he should come over and take a seat. “Jeez, you’re acting like you’re the one who’s been kept in the dark your entire life.” I roll my eyes. “Continue,” I order Grim, since he seems to be the only one actually providing information.
Gunnar stalks over and throws himself down on the sofa. I hear an audible sigh leave him once he’s settled.
“While the bond does happen occasionally, it usually only happens between one of the guardians and the ward, typically after spending years together. However—”
“You use a lot of transitions. Are you stalling?” I interrupt Grim. “It kind of seems like you’re stalling.”
Grim lifts his chin in the air an infinitesimal bit. “I am trying to explain our situation to you. Neither of these two seem to be willing to help, and you are interrupting me.” I watch as his light gray eyes swirl, until it looks as if he has tiny fissures of lava running through his irises.
I stand up and take two quick steps closer to get a better look. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. This wouldn’t scare anyone,” I motion to his body, “unless they were afraid of dying of lust, but that,” I point to his eyes, “is freaky as fuck, especially if you were still wearing the robe.” I tilt my head, imagining those eyes glowing out from underneath the cowl.
I plop back on the sofa. “You were saying?”
Calix stops mid-stride and turns his head slowly to look at me. “She has no sense of self-preservation,” he announces to the room.
I ignore him. I would only need self-preservation if I felt threatened, and I don’t.
“Our bond formed the moment you were born,” Grim continues, undeterred by my comment or Calix’s.
“So, you and I are bonded?” I eye him dubiously. Sure, I feel a connection to him; hell, he fed me for years. Not to mention he’s gorgeous, with a body to die for—quite literally.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Gunnar scowls at me.
I pat his leg. “Don’t worry, Kitten. I was just thinking.”
“Stop calling me Kitten,” Gunnar grouses.
“No,” I chirp back.
“Yes, you and I are bonded, but…you are also bonded to the Nemean and the Berserker.” Grim is acting as if he has the patience of a saint, dealing with all of us.
“Were you an angel?” I ask Grim.
“Can you focus for like five minutes?” Gunnar tilts his head back, groaning.
I glare at Gunnar. “I’m not sure if I even like you.” That earns me a scowl. “What’s a Nemean?” I purposefully turn my cheek to Gunnar.
“I’m a Nemean, but I do have a name, Death,” Calix deadpans, calling out Grim.
“And a Nemean is?” I wonder if there’s some book or something I was supposed to have.
“A lion.” Calix stands a little taller, his chest puffs out a bit.
“You!” I accuse. “You’re the lion from the woods? You ignored me.”
Calix has the good sense to look contrite as his eyes bounce around the room. “I wasn’t supposed to make contact with you.”
Gunnar snorts.
“You watched me…” I cover my eyes with my hand, not wanting to look at him or think about what he seen me doing. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because the thought of him watching me masturbate is kind of hot. Yup. Kinky bitch—party of one.
“Watched what?” Gunnar prods.
“Nothing, never mind,” I rush out.
“Then why is he smiling like that?” Gunnar doesn’t give up. I peek up at Calix from under my fingers, and he is, indeed, smiling. It’s lecherous.
I groan. “Grim, what does the bond mean?” I try to focus on the important topic.
