Phoenixcry: A Reverse Harem Romance (The Rogue Witch Book 1) Read online

  I glanced at my booth and then at Shara. She made a shooing motion with her hands.

  “I’ll watch it,” she promised. Aaron smiled at her and started walking away. I gave Shara a confused look, but tagged after him. We crossed the expanse of the floor; this venue was open with no seating and no mosh-pit.

  “I just wanted to grab you while things were quiet, cause I’ve been hearing from all the venues about how easy you are to work with.”

  “Oh. Oh? Really? That’s cool.” We walked to the edge of the stage, Phoenixcry’s gear set up on it and ready to go. They’d be in the green room, having their pre-show amp-up together. “Thanks,” I said lamely as he leaned against the edge of the stage, his arms crossed over his chest. I couldn’t get a good read on him.

  “Look, I’m gonna come right out and say it. I heard you’re doing an internship at XOhX, and that’s great, but we’ve been watching you and I think you’d be a good fit on our team. After this tour is done, we’re getting picked up opening for a stadium tour—” His words whited out in my ears as I stared at him, eyes wide.

  A stadium tour? For a moment, I imagined it, coordinating merch and backstage tour management on a larger show, and I trembled. That’s what I’d always dreamed of. The closest I’d gotten to a stadium show had been sneaking rock CDs into my room and listening to them on low so my parents couldn’t hear. The only music allowed in our house was classical, which after 19 years of it, I was a little over.

  “So yeah, what do you think? Our tour manager says you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you’d be working directly with him as his assistant. You’re not in this to be a groupie or get close to the bands, and you sling merchandise better than anyone I’ve seen. You’ve got a real connection with fans when they come up to you. That’s something, Darcy, and we don’t see it often. Somehow you manage to be extroverted and not make it all about you.” He uncrossed his arms, hands wrapping around the edge of the stage as he leaned forward.

  “I...”

  “Ginny’s not cutting it for us,” he said flatly. I frowned and glanced away, back to the merch booth. Thing was, maybe she wasn’t super focused, but Ginny still worked hard. Plus she’d had my back a few times when I’d needed help dealing with a creepy fanboy who thought it was cool to paw at the merch girls. My answer was going to be no either way, because I wasn’t leaving my guys no matter what, even if I was still half-mad at Cash.

  You can either be a broad or a bitch, Darcy. Willa’s words echoed in my head and I gave him my best, most diplomatic smile. His shoulders sagged; he immediately knew.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said.

  “We can get your internship switched,” he said, although his rueful smile said he knew it was hopeless.

  “That’s not the only reason I’m sticking with my guys.” I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. “Although I appreciate the offer. That’s pretty, wow, I feel like an idiot turning it down but...”

  “Phoenixcry is something special. Jakey keeps trying to play it down, but we all know they’re going somewhere fast. But,” He pulled out his phone. “What’s your number?”

  “You call him Jakey?” I asked, amused. That probably pissed Tupper off to no end. I gave Aaron my number and my phone buzzed at my hip.

  “You change your mind about world tours, just call me,” he said with a wink. “We’ll figure something out that works for you. Maybe you don’t need that internship and could jump straight on the payroll.”

  A pang of FOMO in my gut sounded off but I shook my head. A paying job? Still, not worth it. Plus, I’d worked hard for my degree. I wanted to finish it.

  “I really believe in the band I’m working with, but I am so appreciative of the offer,” I said. If Aaron was extending some sort of olive branch to me then I needed to take it, not just for a future job but maybe, just maybe I could wrangle something good for Phoenixcry in the future.

  “One more thing,” Aaron said as I turned to go back to my merch table. “Is Jake giving you a hard time?” His eyes were half-lidded as he surveyed me. My heart skipped up into my throat.

  “No,” I lied.

  “Mmkay.” He stood up and stretched. “I’m gonna go do my hand warmups. I’ll see you later, Darcy. You and the guys are welcome to hang on the bus if you want.”

  “T-thanks,” I said, and trying not to float, I walked back to the table. Shara was giving me a look, like she was about to burst with questions but didn’t want to be a total pleb about it.

  “Jake won’t even let me talk to them,” Shara hissed at me. “What did he say, what did he say?” She apparently was giving up on the not looking like a pleb thing. I cut her some slack and grinned, but froze for a moment. If I said anything about Ginny. Fuck.

  “He asked me if me and the guys wanted to hang on the bus tonight,” I said. “He likes them, and thinks they’re doing good.”

  Shara’s eyes narrowed.

  “Really? Oh my god, Jake’s going to shit a cat.” Her frown turned into a smirk. “Good.” She looked so pleased that I had to laugh. I collapsed on the chair behind the table with a sigh.

  “Is it doors soon?”

  “Mmm, yup. Prepare yourself, here come the fanboys.”

  I heard the yell of ‘DOORS!’ A fog machine shot out haze from the front of the stage, the lights glistening and shooting through the thick air. A prickle of nerves ran over my skin, like it always did when the crowd started to come in and I had to fight between watching out for someone who didn’t fit and seemed dangerous, and doing my job as manager and merchant girl. With a sigh, I got to my feet.

  Sometimes it felt like the nights were starting to melt into each other, but in a good way. Shara offered me her water bottle but I shook my head. Last thing I needed was to get tipsy and set some Phoenixcry merch on fire by sparking up.

  My phone buzzed and I pulled it out, checking it quickly. It was Aaron.

  I forgot to say you’re a class act. Loyalty is everything in this biz. Take it from a road warrior.

  My cheeks flushed hard and I tucked my phone away, unable to keep the grin off of my face. I wanted to text Max but it felt like bragging. She’d even stopped commenting on my Insta photos and we hadn’t Snapchatted each other in forever. I was at the point I didn’t even want to send her a filtered image, I just wanted to see her. (True trust and love, in my opinion, was sending someone a pic of you without cat-ears hiding half your face.) I sighed and as the pulse of the house music rolled out and two young guys started walking toward the merch area, I put a big smile on my face. Work first, feelings later.

  Twenty-Five

  Half-way through Phoenixcry’s set, Finn stood on the edge of the stage, arms outstretched. I saw the wave of hands from the audience, reaching back to him, and he grabbed fingers, squeezing hands, sharing the love in his heart out with everyone there. It was hard to watch, knowing what I did, knowing that at any moment, we’d turn a corner, and they would be there, hunters, cutting the guys down when they were defenseless and unable to shift or fight with their full strength. Sometimes it was a far away worry, but for some reason that night it was nagging at me.

  It made me wonder, already the guys in the pack were so strong, what would they be like if they were still close to their heartstone? The thought made me shiver. The power in their music would likely be stronger too. As it was, even being steeled against it, their magic still hit me like a sledgehammer. It was constantly leaving me feeling a bit drunk and wobbly until I got myself under control after the first song. My family would have been disgusted with me, and that thought made me want to throw myself into the music world, the werewolf world, even more. I’d thought my family had just been bad to me, but with each day I spent with Phoenixcry, on the road with people who actually cared for me and appreciated me for who I was I realized that the real monsters in this world were my family and witches like them.

  “They’re so good,” Shara said next to me. The merch booth was quiet, and Ginny had gone to
get us snacks from the bar, on her. That was good because my wallet was squeaking from how empty it was.

  “Mmmhmm,” I said, letting my gaze wander over to Cash at the back. He had his hand on one of his cymbals, holding it to still the vibrations after their last song ended.

  “So, we don’t normally do this,” Finn said, raking a hand through his hair and taking a quick swig of water from a bottle. When someone reached for it, he laughed, and squirted it over the crowd. The resounding shriek echoed through the room. He grinned and stepped up on one of the stage risers. He sounded slightly breathless as he spoke, and I knew his adrenaline had to be running on high-speed. He said performing felt like falling, in the best way, when he was on stage surrounded by his pack and connecting with a willing and excited audience. “So we don’t normally play new stuff until we’ve had a while to practice it, cause that’s just not how we roll, but we wrote a song today, real quick in the green room. When something comes together so quick like that, you know it’s going to work.”

  He lifted his head, eyes squinting against the light, and I swore for a moment he was trying to look to the back of the room where I stood. My heart beat double time in my chest.

  “So what do you think, you wanna hear it?” Finn’s question was answered with an enthusiastic cry from the audience, but he stepped back and shook his head. “I dunno guys, I don’t think they really wanna—” He was drowned out by a roar that shook the rafters. Shara grabbed my wrist.

  “Oh my god, he is so fucking good. Are you two like a thing or is he single?”

  “Uh, what?” I looked at her. She grinned and winked at me.

  “Dunno, you just seem close.”

  I held my breath for a moment, but Finn saved me without knowing it.

  “Hit it, Cash!” He yelled, and any answer I could have given Shara would have been drowned out. The drums came to life, Cash’s arms flicking out, their movement fluid and almost elegant. Ace jumped up on a low riser, shoving his bass into the crowd as he bent into them, locking into the beat Cash set with his drums.

  I could hear Eli and Charlie, Eli’s lead guitar skating close to Charlie’s rhythm and before pulling away from it in a way that made my heart soar and the breath catch in my throat. Finn stepped up, pulled the microphone to his mouth, and the world dropped away from me.

  “I've never said those three words so fast, ’n now I can’t let that moment pass,” he sang, eyes closed for a long moment. “I’m in my head, reliving every kiss, and the worst part is, I can’t say sh-,” the curse word vanished as he tugged his microphone away at the last moment, his own subtle nod to the all-ages crowd. Another breath, and more lyrics, building up in a crescendo of emotion inside me. The swell of his voice almost cracked on a high note. Anxiety built in me, like I was afraid he would break and drop the note, but he reached out and a fan grabbed his hand and he seemed to hold the words. His eyes opened and he smiled down at her. I could barely see the top of her head. He let go of her to pull back from the crowd. His back arched, his shoulders dropping, and I saw him inhale.

  “She's got the sweetest of hearts, it's the deadliest of sins. She's got everything,” he sang, stealing my breath, because I knew he was singing about me. Eli stepped up to a back-up mic, his fingers flashing along the fretboard as he sang the repeats. I grabbed the edge of the merch table. It’s one thing for someone to tell you they love you, it’s another for them to sing their heart right in front of you, stripping themselves bare and vulnerable, telling everyone in the room that you were the only thing that completed them. He’d written this song for me. They, the pack, had written it for me.

  “Now I'm in her hands, and she's pulling my strings, she’s my everything, my everything, everything…” He trailed off and fell back, Charlie stepping to the front of the stage as the song shuddered into the post-chorus. The lights flashed and dipped, flickering off his skin, licking at the stubble along his jaw, as his dark brown hair got in his eyes. He shook it away, and stepped back in time for Finn come back in front for the second verse.

  I had to look away. It was too much. My fingers trembled and I felt like I was going to be sick.

  It wasn’t fair. What we had, this small thing that had taken root under my heart, would never be forever.

  “I need a minute,” I said to Shara, and pushed past her, going out the back door. The hallway to the lobby was empty, and I pressed my face against the cool, painted cement brick that made up the wall, my eyes closed. “Get it together,” I whispered. A flash of light lit up my vision through my eyelids, and I cracked my eyes open. I stumbled back. Lightning flickered along my hands, up my wrists; thin webs of blue light hummed in the dim light of the hall. They crackled and popped when I lifted my hands so I could see them better. In a panic, I shoved my hands, palm-first against the wall. The lightning disappeared with a soft phut noise. Terror ate at my belly, coiling around my spine and made me freeze for several long moments until I heard laughter. Looking up, I saw a couple come out of the doors, leaning against each other. I dropped my hands, and my head, and steadily walked past them, determined not to make eye contact.

  “There you are,” Ginny said as I came back. There were two bowls of nachos balanced on one of the folding chairs. “You okay? Shara went to get you water, real water, not our fire-water.”

  “I’m fine, just felt weird for a sec.” Globs of cheese ran, thick and congealing over the nachos and my stomach turned over. Ginny pressed the back of her hand to my forehead to check me for a fever.

  “Tour crud,” she said, “it gets us all. You should go to the green room, lay down.”

  “Here’s the water.” Shara appeared, bearing two bottles of cold water. I took one and twisted the cap off, gulping down half of it to drown the queasy feeling in my gut. Finn and the guys kept performing, having no idea I was going through a panic attack at the back of the performance hall over them. I closed my eyes as I felt the cold water trickle down and settle in my stomach.

  “Better?” Shara asked when I looked at her. She shared Ginny’s worried expression.

  “I still think you should go lay down. Don’t stress it. We’ve got you covered.” Ginny held out her hand and I undid the money belt around my waist, passing her the small, black apron.

  “Don’t tell the guys,” I said, “just come get me when their set is over?”

  Ginny sighed.

  “Okay. But that doesn’t give you long.”

  “All I need is twenty minutes, tops.” To retch back up all that water I just drank. I didn’t add that though. They probably still wanted to enjoy their nachos and not think about me puking. Ginny felt my forehead again and frowned. “I’m good, just need a quick cat-nap.” There was a burst of applause and I flinched, and gave them both an ironic, weak little salute before walking swiftly to the backstage exit. I flashed my backstage pass to the security guard there, and in a few moments I was in the muffled quiet of the green room. The other bands preferred to hang out on their tour bus before their sets if they weren’t by the merch tables or signing autographs, so I had the whole room to myself.

  I sank down onto the couch, guilt and shame weighing me down there as I stared at the floor. How long could the guys run until the hunters caught up with them? For six months? A year? Forever? I toppled over and curled up. If I’d paid more attention when I was younger, if I’d tried harder, maybe I would’ve been able to cast the spell to create a heartstone. It was probably complicated magic, but I would have been able to try at the very least.

  A few hot tears leaked from my eyes. My powers had never been very strong, and now they seemed to be going haywire. I tried not to think about it.

  But if I’d been any good at magic, would I even have run away from home to begin with? Frustration mounted inside of me. I couldn’t even feel pathetic and useless without my brain playing devil’s advocate. One of the guys had left their hoodie slung over one arm of the the couch. I reached for it without thinking, and pulled it over myself. Cash’s scent hit
me hard. I doubled over, pulling it into my face, and the tears came to me then, fast and hot. I cried it out, the immense grief of finding a place, a home, and knowing that it was going to be taken away because how long before I was found out by someone my family knew? How long before the hunters tracked us down? How long before the residual power of the heartstone, singing in my pack’s bones faded away and they lost everything that made them who they were, including the ability to fight and heal?

  Misery gripped me tight and I let it, until the pain bled out and I lay there, staring at the ceiling, Cash’s hoodie pulled right up to my nose. I closed my eyes. It was better, maybe, not to think for a little bit.

  Twenty-Six

  The brush of cool air on my cheek woke me. My eyes cracked open, salt-crusted and dry. Finn hovered over me, his expression worried. Shara and Ginny had sent him, or he’d figured it out and come on his own. Either way I was grateful.

  I sat up before he could ask, and held my arms out. He came to me, pulling me into a tight, warm embrace. I shivered but didn’t have the energy to speak.

  “What’s got you so worked up? Shara told me you weren’t feeling good,” he said, breaking our silence. Several more minutes passed, and his hands stroked my back.

  “Just thinking about stuff.”

  “Sounds like the wrong kind of stuff to be thinking about.”

  “I miss Max,” I admitted. He pulled away and shrugged one shoulder.

  “Well, when we loop back down you could see her, I know it’s not much, but sweetheart, you rarely mention her. I didn’t realize you were so upset about it.”

  “It’s just, she broke up with her boyfriend before I left, and now here I am, on some glamorous tour, or what everyone thinks is a glamorous tour because they have no idea that it’s really just a lot of hard work, and I feel bad about messaging her. It feels like a humble brag. ‘Oh I wish I was there at school with you instead of touring the country.’ Ugh. I don’t want to say that to her.” My teeth clicked shut. “Rambling, sorry.” Finn sat back and stretched his arms above his head, pulling me in to rest against his side.