Phoenixburn: A Reverse Harem Romance (The Rogue Witch Book 3) Page 12

  I shook my head and started walking back. His fingers brushed over my back, warm, comforting.

  "I'll be with the guys," he said as I peeled off from him when we emerged back into the party. Noise and light assaulted my senses, my nerves were still fried from Ace kissing the hell out of me. Squinting, I pushed through the crowd until I got to the open bar that was situated right in front of a bank of floor to ceiling windows overlooking a lazy, glass-like river.

  Max was nowhere to be seen, and I edged up to a too-cool-for-me looking bartender, whose hair was faux-hawked and tipped in what had to be brushed on gold foil.

  "Hey have you seen this girl?" I held up my phone for him to look at my lockscreen, which was a photo of me and Max from the first show she'd been to on her trip with us. Goldielocks nodded, a swoop and dip of his head as he jerked his hips to the beat and poured shots.

  "That way." He pointed to the left. My eyes followed and I saw a set of doors leading out to a patio.

  "Thanks," I told Goldie as he lined up shots for a waiting band of aging rock stars that I totally recognized. One of them winked at me as I passed and reached out a hand to grab my hip but I jerked to the side to avoid him. He burst into laughter and nudged his buddy. Gritting my teeth, I weaved through people and walked quickly to the double doors.

  There were inset windows, and just outside—

  My heart gave a painful jerk in my chest and I slammed open the doors with both arms.

  Jake Tupper was leaning over Max, and I could tell from his body language he had a hand where he definitely shouldn't. Why she hadn't punched him or grabbed his balls, I had no idea.

  "HEY!" My yell echoed across the empty patio that was cleared of furniture for the night, the cement pavers damp from the light rain which had come down earlier. Jake reacted slowly, turning to look at me, his face going from leering to surly in a moment.

  Max gasped when she saw me and squirmed out from behind Jake, wobbling toward me on her heels. Relief was in every line of her face as she reached me and I shifted in front of her. Jake lifted his nose, and anger roared through my veins.

  "What the hell happened?" I asked her under my breath.

  "Oh god, I saw him harassing this girl and then she ran when I walked up and—" Max's words were slurred. She'd had way too much to drink and she grabbed onto my shoulder for balance.

  "What is this, the truck got stuck?" I asked.

  "Huh?"

  "Nevermind," I said, "Country song reference. Let's go inside."

  "She's a slut anyway," Jake's voice rang out, as he leaned back on the railing. Beyond him the river flickered with city lights. His words sparked an unholy anger in me and I stepped forward.

  "What did you say?"

  "You too. You're one too." Jake was just as tanked as Max, if not more so, and when he stepped toward me, his foot slid across a slick patch of wet cement and he went down on one knee with a grunt. He stared down at the ground in horror, as if he just realized it was wet. "Bitch," he hissed as he teetered and got back to his feet with no small amount of struggle.

  Definitely fucking drunk.

  "Alright, we're going inside," I said, turning and wrapping an arm around Max's waist. "Glad you texted me," I muttered to her as I helped her walk.

  "I think I'm drunk," she loud-whispered back.

  No shit, Max.

  "You can sit with the guys, or something, they're talking to Dana."

  "I just wanna go back to the tour bus, or Chelsea, Chelsea will make it better."

  Behind us, I could hear Jake cursing and shuffling. There was a metallic noise, and a loud clang. I turned my head to look back.

  Jake was sagging against the barrier rail, which was thin posts with wire cabling running between them. His brow was furrowed, his eyes half-closed as he tried to figure out that his hands needed to push him up so he could then use his legs to walk to the door.

  "Y'fucking cunts. . . fucking the whole band but not—" He made a heaving sound before he threw up all over himself, right down his tight jeans banded with lines of suede. I wondered if I would get in trouble if I just left him to wallow in his own vomit, but Max made a whining noise.

  "Oh gross," she said, "I think I'm going to—"

  I put a hand over her mouth.

  "You are not puking. You're fine," I said. "Don't look."

  She nodded, eyes wide, and then turned, slowly wobbling toward the door without my help. Jake made another, pathetic moaning sound, and I sighed. I wasn't responsible for him, but in a way, as the sober label rep, I was. For fuck’s sake.

  I walked back to him.

  "You're a nasty piece of shit," I said as I helped him stand up right.

  "Fuck off," he slurred. "Yer fucking the whole band and no-one knows it. Fucking. . . fuck."

  I tried not to roll my eyes. He was so drunk, I wasn't even scared of what he was saying. He wouldn't remember in the morning, and even if he told anyone, they wouldn't listen to him. Plus he was covered in his own vomit. That was extra points in the 'aint nobody got time for Jake Tupper right now' bucket.

  "I'm going to call you a cab. So you either shut your mouth or I'm leaving you here," I said. A breeze tugged at my hair and whipped his shirt, plastering it to his body. He swayed for a moment.

  He'd been so sloppy and slow I didn't react in time as he reached for me, his hand shooting out and tangling in my hair. He yanked me towards him and I went with a cry.

  Behind me, I heard Max's shout.

  I thudded against Jake's body. His twisted grin filled my gaze and his mouth opened. Laughter spilled out of him and I pushed, my hands coming up to shove between us.

  "Fucking bitch," he spat into my face, "I hope you drown."

  Even drunk, he was taller, bigger, and meaner than me, and when he turned, I went with him, slamming into the railing of the patio. The metal cables scraped over my spine.

  The world tilted sideways as he pushed me up. Panic flared in my stomach and my instincts screamed at me as I went over the railing.

  Light sparked from my fingers, hitting him as I fell. His body jerked, going stiff, and then he disappeared from view as I tumbled.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  Cold exploded all around me when I hit the water of the river and I flailed, opening my mouth to scream.

  Seventeen

  Cash

  Max barely got the words out before I had jumped over a low couch and was shoving my way through the crowd.

  Darcy went into the river.

  Max was shaking, her whole body one big shudder, but I saw Dana turn to her, the older woman immediately concerned, and the only thing that mattered was saving Darcy.

  "Move!" I snarled at a couple, and the crowd scattered, parting for me as I barreled toward the patio. The doors burst open as I slammed through them. I shrugged out of my leather jacket as I ran, the patio empty except for a groaning Jake Tupper, writhing on the ground.

  Other than his moaning, the night was quiet, my blood rushing in my veins and almost drowning out the sound of traffic. I listened hard.

  There was a light splash and a quiet gasp. I tossed my jacket and sprinted to the railing. The top of Darcy's head, wet, broke through the surface and she gave another, shivering, tiny gasp for air. I tossed myself over the fence and jumped down, hitting the water beside her.

  Breaking the surface, I reached for her. Her eyes were wide in her face and she scrabbled at me, wrapping her arms up around my neck and trying to climb my body before I could stop her.

  "Darce," I choked the words out from under her grip, "I got you." She coughed, sobbing for air, nearly cutting off my own supply. A normal person would never, should never, approach someone who was drowning like I had, but a normal person didn't have the strength of the wolves running through their veins.

  I flipped over onto my back and tugged her onto me, kicking my legs. The water was freezing cold, and she probably had only a few more minutes in the water before she was at
risk of hypothermia. Even in the summer you could get too cold, and the river was deep and chilly. She clung to my chest as I tried to find a break in the pier. Rounded logs braced as a retaining wall all along the shoreline for a good ten meters. I hissed out a curse and used one arm to drag through the water, pulling us toward the wall.

  Darcy shivered against me, her weight shoving me down under the water several times as I tried to keep her close and not let her drown me at the same time. My fingers hit wood and I moved, grabbing onto the firm edge. The cold wouldn't affect me for a few more minutes, but I could already feel Darcy stiffening up. I needed to get her out of there, fast.

  The pier went almost straight up, and I could barely see the cable fencing, swinging in the breeze.

  "We're going to have to go up," I said, shifting Darcy until we were both upright in the water. She was calmer, although her grip was still vise-tight on me.

  "W-w-what?" Her teeth gave a sharp chatter, and she shuddered, her hands beginning to shake. I was running out of time.

  My vision wasn't what it had been before we lost the heartstone, but I could still see well enough in the dark.

  "I need you to hang onto my back," I said to her, trying to be patient. "Can you get onto my back?"

  "I'll d-drown." Her fingers were shivering as she tried to crawl up me, her shoes scraping over the heavy, sodden denim of my jeans.

  "No, you won't. C'mon Darce, work with me, I gotta get you up out of here, and the only way we're doing that is if I have both of my hands free."

  "H-h-how?"

  Shifting her, I eased her around to my side, and let her loop her arms around my neck so she could hang on tight.

  I could climb ten feet up some logs. My muscles were going to hate me in the morning, and thank fuck Tupper was out of it enough, because this wasn't a feat that a human could accomplish.

  "Hang on," I said, "tight." I wrapped my fingers around the slight lip above me where two logs met, and flexed.

  My muscles screamed, the water fighting me, dragging us down. Darcy's weight as she frogged onto my back threatened to keep us in the river.

  She shuddered.

  A flash of rage at the idea of losing her flooded through my system and I snarled. We broke out of the water, two feet, and I reached. I could feel my fingers tearing, the skin ripping and my nails breaking as I hauled us up, hand over hand, wrapping my grip around knots in the wood, old, jutting nails the size of my thumb, anything. The smooth edge of cement met my fingers as I reached up.

  Warmth wrapped around my wrist and I looked. Eli was there, eyes dark and furious in his face. Relief filled me. The pack was with me.

  With a growl he pulled, and up we went, my feet scrabbling for purchase. Darcy whimpered, shuddering and shivering against me, but she hung on.

  There was a precarious moment when I threw my leg up over the edge, and she slipped sideways with a cry. Eli let go of me and lunged for her, tugging her up and under the wire railing.

  I let out a breath and pulled myself the rest of the way, rolling over onto the wet cement. My breath heaved out of my burning lungs.

  Finn was swearing, shrugging out of his jacket to wrap it around Darcy, who shook in Eli's arms.

  "Let's get her to the van," Charlie said. He held my jacket. Ace's eyes were on Jake Tupper, still lying on the ground.

  "What about him?" Ace's voice was so cold and filled with venom that my head lifted off the ground.

  Doors behind us opened, and the noise of the party spilled out. I glanced over.

  Chelsea stood there, Aaron at her side.

  "Max is with the rest of the guys," she said as she walked over to us. She was wearing a neat, silver mini-skirt that showed off her long legs, and when she stepped up to Jake he made an appreciative, low whistle that croaked half-way through.

  "I'm guessing he had something to do with it." She crossed her arms, and glanced at Darcy. Eli had picked her up, cradling her against him, letting his heat soak into her. It was a good thing that werewolves ran hotter than normal; she'd need every bit of warmth to keep her safe. Darcy's eyes were wet, lashes clinging with tears and river water as she nodded.

  "We've got this." Aaron was curt as he came up to stand next to Jake. "Tupper," he said with a shake of his head.

  "W-what're you g-gonna—" Darcy broke off into a wheezing cough and Eli held her close. I got to my feet, legs cramping with cold and exertion.

  "Shit, your hands." Charlie's eyes were glued to my bloodied fingertips.

  "They'll heal."

  "Take her to the bus," Chelsea said, giving Jake a slow, sweet smile that promised nothing. "I think it's time Jake forget a few things. Permanently."

  Darcy made a questioning noise, but Finn hushed her, crowding her as Eli held her close.

  "C'mon." Ace's eyes were ice-cold as he glared at Jake. "There's a gate over here." He waved toward a break in the fence that led to a small path along the side of the old brewery.

  We walked, shoes crunching in the gravel. Darcy stared at me over Eli's shoulder, her eyes half-closed.

  "Fast moves," Charlie commented quietly as the patio disappeared behind us and we broke out into the parking lot. Our bus was running, security guard's eyebrows raised as we approached. He didn't say anything, but the door to the bus opened for us. Eli went in first, carrying Darcy up the stairs, trailing droplets of water.

  "Get her in the shower," Finn said before jerking his head at me. "You too."

  "I'm fine."

  "I'm not risking it," Finn glared at me. The fight was going out of me anyway, after the struggle to get Darcy out of the water. I grit my teeth and followed Eli back to the bathroom.

  "You think you can undress yourself, doll?" Eli slipped into old slang that we used to use on girls back when we were teenagers, running wild. His fingers pushed her wet curls away from her face and he sighed when she tried to get her jeans undone, her hands refusing to work.

  "I can do it," I said, "Shower's big enough for two." Eli raised an eyebrow at me, but nodded, reaching into the bathroom to get the shower running hot.

  "D-didn't want it," she mumbled, as I helped her out of her jeans, peeling the soaked, thick fabric down her legs. I paused to fight with her shoes and socks, and then she stepped out of the puddle of denim with relief. Finn pulled the wet, dirty clothes away. My fingers hesitated on her underwear, but she stood there looking like a drowned kitten, pathetic and miserable.

  "What didn't you want?" I asked, distracted.

  "First time you saw me all, in my everything, like this, didn't want it." She was still stumbling over her words a little, but the bus was warm, and I was hoping she was feeling a bit better.

  "It's not like I haven't caught looks of you, when Finn's laying you out, or Ace," I said, trying not to think too hard about the noises she'd make when one of my pack-mates had her sprawled on a bed, their mouth on her neck or between her thighs. Heat sprung, unbidden, in my groin and I shifted.

  Safety first, you selfish asshole, I told my cock. Darcy swayed and had to grab onto the side of the bathroom wall, wrapping her fingers around the doorframe to stay upright as I helped her out of her underwear.

  It wasn't a time for skimming my fingers along her calf muscles, or wrapping them under the soft curve where her ass met her thighs, or leering like a dog at the V of her mons. She was soaked to the bone, streaks of pink on her pale flesh where my cuts had bled on her. I needed to get her clean.

  Elias stepped out of the small bathroom.

  "It's hot," he said.

  "She can go first." I stood, helping her pull her top off. It slapped wetly on the floor. She reached back to undo her bra, and made a face when she struggled. Eli politely, or out of an overwhelming attempt not to give into his desire to ravage our half-drowned mate, averted his gaze.

  "Turn around." I gently moved Darcy, shifting her until I could undo her bra for her. It joined her shirt and I guided her into the bathroom. Her foot caught on the lip of the door, and she nearly f
ell.

  "Hate myself," she mumbled as I got her into the shower. She exhaled in pleasure as the hot water hit her skin, steam billowing up. I reached for a towel to wipe off my hands, the cuts and scrapes already stopping their sluggish bleeding. They'd fade by morning.

  Darcy sagged against the far wall of the shower and I gave in and let myself drink up the sight of her, naked, with water sluicing over her skin.

  I was a good guy, but I wasn't a saint, and I'd spent weeks watching Finn and Ace make time with her while I stuck my foot in it constantly, variating between pissing her off and hurting her feelings.

  Her eyes closed and she shivered. The water would be enough, but a possessive desire to be the one who warmed her ripped through me. I shucked myself out of my clothes.

  "You mind?" I asked, the air making my skin prickle with goosebumps. She cracked an eye at me, and shook her head. I stepped into the shower and closed the bifold glass door behind me, trapping us both in the steamy, wet heat.

  I was inches from her, towering over her curving, short frame, and my tongue was tied. I wasn't a pup, like Ace, inexperienced with women and barely able to talk around them. But there I stood, so close to the one thing I wanted more than anything and didn't deserve, unable to speak.

  Her eyes flickered open and a frown crossed her face.

  "What's that?" she asked, and I looked down. When I wore shirts, it was hidden, the scarred patch of skin that wrapped around my rib cage and framed one side of my belly.

  "I tangled with something I shouldn't have," I said, waiting for her to make a face, or wrinkle her nose, or something.

  "I thought werewolves healed fast," she commented, voice sounding tired.

  "When you're away from a heartstone for awhile, and your body has a straight choice between keeping you alive, or healing you, it picks keeping you alive," I kept my words light. Truth was, I'd earned that burn doing good, and I didn't regret it. It was half hidden by my arm most of the time anyway, and I could still wear a tank without people looking at me funny. It should've healed on its own, and it had, slowly, over time back when I was around the heartstone, because a burn from a magical creature took decades sometimes to get better. If I ever got to be near a heartstone again, it would keep healing, the scar fading as time wore on. For now though, I'd wear it like a badge of honor.