Phoenixcry: A Reverse Harem Romance (The Rogue Witch Book 1) Page 7

  “Later,” he said. My fountain of knowledge had just run dry. Great.

  “I’m really flying blind here, Ace,” I whispered. He shifted even more in his seat and, for a moment, I thought he might crack and tell me.

  “I gotta go re-string my, uh, my bass,” he said and bolted out of the room. A second later he came back and grabbed his bass in its case, gave me a weak smile, and disappeared again.

  Eli turned around from the table, shooting me a disdainful look. I held up my hands to stop him from making any snap judgements.

  “Look, if you guys don’t give me the info I need to not piss you off or chase you away, I’m not going to be able to do anything but that,” I said. Eli’s eyes narrowed but Finn chuckled and elbowed him.

  “She’s got a point,” Finn said. “It’s not like any witch we’ve ever met knew enough about us unless they were, y’know...” He trailed off and didn’t elaborate what he y’knowed. I made a noise of frustration.

  “I’m going to go see Charlie.” Getting to my feet, I leveled Eli with a heated glare to match his. “I’m gonna tell you, in case no one else has or you’ve forgotten, there’s no other person at the label who has time to manage your little wolf pack project here. I’m all you’ve got. I can’t get reassigned to anything and you can’t have someone else. So can we please stop posturing and growling at each other and actually work together?”

  Finn froze, but Eli crossed his arms over his chest, looking more amused than mad for the first time. I don’t think I’d seen that expression on his face yet.

  “Is that what you want, little witch?” he asked, his voice almost a purr. The urge to take a step away from him fluttered in my belly but I fought it and stood my ground.

  “Yes, that’s what I want, you heard me the first time, unless you don’t have super hearing after all,” I replied, refusing to take the bait on his ‘little witch’ comment. He tilted his head to the side, a smile still on his face as he gazed at me searchingly.

  “Good to have you on board. It’s about time you made up your mind if you were staying or going,” he said, before looking back at the set list. “Let’s perform Falling Down right after that extended outro here,” he said to Finn, ignoring me completely.

  “Is that it?” I asked, incredulous at his instant dismissal. Who the hell did he think he was?

  “That’s all.” He didn’t even look at me; instead, he scribbled on a sheet of paper with a sharpie. Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes as I stared two holes into his back.

  “Was that a Devil Wear’s Prada reference?” I asked. Finn laughed but turned it into a hasty cough when Eli glowered at him before looking at me again.

  “We’re not stuck in the 18th century,” he commented. “We watch movies, just like you do. It’s as if you don’t know anything about werewolves at all.”

  I went still and his pupils dilated for a moment in realization. Finn was also looking at me. Shit, they knew. I waited for them to come down on me like a pile of bricks, to somehow take instant advantage of my lack of knowledge.

  “Well, that’s interesting then,” was all Eli said, before looking at Finn with a measured, meaningful look. “Go see Charlie, Miss Llewellyn.”

  Confusion, aborted-panic, and what was left of my pre-show burrito boiled around in my stomach. I opened my mouth to speak again, but Finn just raised his hand an inch, a clear sign telling me to shut up. My face tomato-red, I left the room in search of Charlie.

  Eight

  The opening band kinda sucked. The lighting crew was doing their best to make the band better than they were, but there were only so many strobe lights that could be packed onto a stage before it became a fire hazard. Candy Liu hadn’t been lying either about her invite list. The penthouse was packed, wall-to-wall with bodies, mostly girls, who were milling around and getting drinks from the bartender.

  I was nursing a soda, feeling vulnerable and out of place. Charlie hadn’t needed me, so I’d spent some time hiding out in a fancy bathroom that had marble walls and a little low sink that sprayed water upwards. I think it was to wash my ass, but didn’t dare try it.

  Fast-forward a few hours. The sun had set, the stage was lit up, sound-check had been done, and a horde of sweaty, well-heeled music fans were crowding into the great room of Penthouse Four. I’d lost sight of Candy earlier in the night, and the guys of Phoenixcry were holed up in their dressing room, taking quiet time before their set.

  I leaned against a marble pillar that held the roof up, and watched the opening band tune their guitars after one song, barely even looking at the crowd as they did so. Rookie mistake, big time.

  “You look like you’re having fun,” Cash’s voice rumbled in my ear and I dropped my soda with a yelp, splashing us both. He jumped out of the way, and yanked me with him, his arm wrapping around my waist and hauling me off the ground. The breath was still shuddering out of my lungs when he set me down on dry ground with a grumble. “You’re easily scared.”

  “You’re forgiven,” I said with a glare. If he’d been Ace, he would’ve smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his head. I was starting to recognize a few of Ace’s tells. But Cash was different, and his slow smirk told me he wasn’t at all sorry, and I shouldn’t hold my breath for an apology.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked, nodding at the stage.

  “Could be better,” I said, trying to be diplomatic. He snorted.

  “Understatement of the year. But you’ve got good taste,” he said. “Want me to get you another drink? That’d probably be the right thing to do since I made you spill your last one.” It was probably as close to an apology as I was gonna get, so I took it.

  “Just a soda, maybe root beer?" I asked. He disappeared in the crowd without a word, and I wiped a few droplets of soda from my jeans. A song passed, and then another, and Cash still hadn’t returned. My anticipation melted into irritation, and I walked over to the bar, where I spotted Cash, and then Candy hanging off of his arm. She was staring up at him with adoration in her eyes, even as it was obvious that Cash was not into it. He reached up to put a hand on her shoulder and push her away gently.

  Nope, he wasn’t into it at all. A spark of fury lit in my chest at the sight. Candy was taking advantage of her position of power as the person booking Phoenixcry in order to hit on Cash.

  “Hey,” I said as I walked over, grabbing Cash’s hand. “I was looking all over for you, I was really worried.” I didn’t bother looking at Candy as I stood up on my tiptoes and brushed a kiss across Cash’s cheek. My heart beat slowed as the world around us melted away and he turned his head slowly to stare at me. Beyond the fuzz of noise, I could hear Candy’s gasp. Cash shook her off, his eyes narrowing at me before his arm slid up, up, around my shoulder. He pulled me in tight to his side. The press of his body, every muscle, molded against mine and I could smell the fresh linen-scent of clean laundry on his shirt, and beneath that something earthy, like water hitting heated rocks, on his skin.

  “Oh my god, seriously?” Candy looked at Cash, then me, then Cash again. She took a step back. “Well, now I know how you got your job,” she spat.

  “Not okay, Candy.” Cash held me tighter still, his fingers squeezing around the top of my shoulder. Candy shot me a venomous glare and turned with a scoffing sound, stomping off through the press of bodies. I felt Cash turn his face into the top of my head, and his words warmed me through my hair. “You okay?” he asked.

  No, I was not okay. My body felt flushed and trembly, and not because of Candy’s nasty implication I’d slept my way into my internship position. Cash’s closeness, the way he’d instantly protected me, was making my blood run wild and all I wanted to do was soak up the affection, even if it was a ruse to chase Candy away from him.

  How long had it been since I’d felt truly safe? Max was my best friend, and she’d held my hand through a lot of tough times over the last few years, but there was a marked difference from how Cash’s body wrapping around mine made me feel
. I got my hand up between us and pushed, gently, against his chest.

  “I’m good. You good?” Precious inches opened up as he unwound his arm from my shoulders with a low rumbling noise, deep in his chest.

  “I never got you your root beer,” he sounded remorseful, but as he looked at me I felt my cheeks warming, a heat flaring deep in my belly. Getting away from him was suddenly priority number one.

  “It’s fine, I’m not thirsty anymore.” I licked my lips and stepped back. His gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth and he inhaled deeply. His chest pressed against his shirt, and I was very aware of how good he made a cotton Henley look. His eyes tracked the movement of my gaze and his lips spread in a slow smirk.

  “You sure about that?”

  My cheeks went from warm to hot at his implication that I wanted him. The grip of his shirt around his biceps was the last thing on my mind.

  “I’m sure you’ve got a show to get ready for,” I said, turning back to the stage where the opener was trying to get the audience to give them an encore. Cash stepped up behind me, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him, his hand lifting to hover over my shoulder. I couldn’t breathe, my body screaming at me as I waited for his fingers to make contact, for him to touch me. He was a wolf. I was a witch. Whatever was happening? It needed to not.

  His hand brushed over my shoulder, only once, briefly, and he leaned in, to whisper in my ear,

  “Thanks for saving me from the kraken.”

  Then he was gone and I could breathe again. My eyes slid shut and I tried to control the shiver that his touch, his nearness, was waking up in me. It’d been so long since anyone had been that close to me in a way that was intimate. Cash was different from Creston, the guy that’d tried to take things further than I’d wanted, back at our coming-of-age party. Creston was the reason I’d been happily single for the last few years and hidden myself under layers of sweaters and knit beanie hats to avoid male attention. Jake Tupper reminded me of Creston.

  Cash should have scared the crap out of me just based on who he was, and the bad blood between us as witch and werewolf. So why hadn’t I run screaming away from him? Why had I even kissed his cheek in the first place? Questioning my judgement took up the crappy opener encore and when the lights went down again. About thirty girls near the front of the stage started screaming and I reached into my pocket for the earplugs that I always took with me to shows. I wanted to work in the music industry forever, and losing my hearing wouldn’t help with that.

  The first strains of the song I’d heard earlier that day in studio rang out in the darkened room, and the corresponding scream rocked me. The lights on the stage came up, and four of the guys were there. Immediately I sought out Cash with my eyes, wondering if the moment we’d shared earlier had changed him like I’d felt it change me. White and blue lights glinted off the curves of his shoulders, and down his arms as he powered into a thudding intro for the first song. His eyes were half-closed, but his head was tilted upward, as if he was feeling the music more than hearing it. I tore my gaze away from him and tried to focus on the band as a whole.

  In my on-boarding package, it had emphasized taking performance notes to the band after shows. We’d done a lot of critiquing throughout my music business program. I wasn’t going to let Willa down by coming away from this show without notes for the guys, especially since the label was probably already going to be mad that there was a show and no label reps there except me.

  Then Finn came on stage, reaching out to the crowd with one hand, and reaching back for his mic-stand with the other. He dragged the mic in front of his face, and I had to grab onto the pillar.

  If their power had overwhelmed me through the recorded track in studio, it was tripled in force when they were performing live. I could hear the drum-beat right inside my heart as if Cash was demanding I keep up with the kick on his bass drum. My skin tingled and I couldn’t look anywhere but at them. Finn demanded most of my attention, as he worked the front of the audience. I saw hands reaching up from the crowd, touching his arms, his belly, his chest. He didn’t seem to mind it, playing right into their hands, almost literally. For some reason, an edge of frustration was rising in my chest every time some girl grabbed onto his shirt.

  I looked away from him, because I knew if I saw one more person touch him, I’d march to the front of the crowd and… and...

  Eli, so serious normally, was transformed, his face light and happy, the first time I’d seen him really look like he was enjoying himself. He was pressed up against Charlie, back to back as they played, their guitar lines weaving around one another. I could feel every shred of the rhythm pulse, and I pushed away from the pillar, drawn by the music and the raw waves of power coming from the five men on stage. They soared into the bridge, the hook coming fast. Ace let out a whoop and jumped up on top of his bass stack, and the girls shrieked as he bent almost backwards, his back arching, bass pointing to the sky as he played.

  They were pure, unfiltered talent, and the overwhelming joy coming off of them as Finn’s vocals jumped up a step in the final chorus. I found myself holding my breath every time he caught his, and suddenly I was in the middle of the crowd, staring up at the five of them. Hands reached all around me, for the band.

  They were monsters, I had to remember that, but it was so hard when all they were doing was performing their hearts out.

  Finn grabbed the front of his own shirt and pulled, nearly ripping it. A girl next to me covered her mouth with both hands, gasping for breath. My head was pounding with blood and sound, and I reached up and tugged out my ear plugs against my better judgement. It was like I was compelled to make myself vulnerable to them. Was this how they seduced witches and ripped their throats out? A thought came to me, a memory that had been lost to time; the memory of being little and my older sister telling me whispered stories of werewolves and the dangers they presented.

  The song ended in a clatter of drums, and cymbals, shaking me free of my thoughts. My chest expanded and I breathed for what felt like the first time in four minutes.

  “They’re fucking amazing, huh?” A girl next to me said, since we were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder. “I go to all their shows, but I haven’t seen you at one before.” She eyed me up. “You a band-wagon hopper?” She tilted her head and wrinkled her nose.

  “I—I... no,” I said with a swallow. “I’m from their label...” I trailed off as her eyes widened.

  “Oh shit, seriously? You’re with the band? Can you get me into their dressing room?” She stood up on her tiptoes, almost nose to nose with me and I pressed back and away from her. Opening my mouth to shut her down right then and there, I was drowned out as Finn hollered into his microphone, and the girl turned away from me to cry out in response.

  “How’s everybody doing tonight?” He asked, and the screams around me were deafening. He threw back his head and laughed, looking at the other guys. Eli was furiously tuning his guitar, his pedal muted so the audience wouldn’t hear it. Trying to focus on the small aspects of their performance was going to keep me sane.

  “We’re Phoenixcry,” Finn said, and grinned when someone yelled out “we know!” in the back of the room. “And we’re so fucking happy to be here with you tonight. Thanks to Candy for throwing a crazy party, and don’t forget to tip your bartender. Now, let’s jam!”

  Cash stuck his hand up in the air, fingers wrapped tight around a drumstick.

  “And one, and two,” he yelled, voice carrying despite the fact he didn’t have a mic. His arm came down, striking one of a set of toms hard. The band jumped into another song, Eli taking the front of the stage as he picked fast through a rising and falling guitar line. Caught in the magic he was making, I stared at him with my fingers clutching hard at the neckline of my shirt. His eyes shut tight as his left hand fretted up and down the neck of this guitar, until Charlie shoved him out of the way with a laugh as the intro solo wrapped up. Eli shoved him back, a matching grin on his face. The girls around me cried
out, clearly loving the play-fighting.

  Finn burst in between the two of them, racing forward and standing on his toes right at the edge of the stage. He loomed so far forward I thought he was going to tumble straight into the crowd.

  “I’ve got a dirty little secret,” he sang, his hand out in front of him. A girl grabbed for it, and he hauled her right up on stage. His arm came around her waist, and he held her close as he sang.

  She looked like she was going to faint, and that’s when I felt the loosening of my shirt at the neck. I looked down. My fingers were still wrapped around fabric tight.

  I’d ripped my shirt.

  Fuck.

  It was warm enough out that I hadn’t brought a jacket to the party, and now I was stuck with a ripped neckline. The panic was enough to break the tight hold the guys’ music had on me, and I swallowed down the impulse to flat-out cry (why were my emotions so haywire?). Instead I turned and worked my way out of the crowd, as it filled in the gap behind me instantly. The air was so cold when I emerged on the other end of the mass of people that I shivered.

  “You gonna be my dirty little secret, baby?” Finn’s voice tugged at me, so insistent, and I turned to watch them from the pillar I’d been leaning on at the beginning of their set. His hand was raking through his hair, and he pointed behind him. “Cash Legend, on drums, everybody!”

  The guitars cut out, and Finn stepped to the side as the lights flooded on Cash. His arms blurred they moved so fast, glimmers of light sparking off the edges of the cymbals as they shuddered and shook with each hit. Ace was playing along with him, changing the tone of the beat with his bass, and I was caught again. The music had me, the drum beat in my head, in my heart, filling every inch of my body with thrumming heat. The song ended, and immediately raced into another one, and I breathed along with Finn, my fingers clenched tight and aching to hang onto each lick of the guitars and the raging beat of the drums behind them. One song melted into another, until Cash was throwing his drum-sticks into the crowd and the boys were gone from the stage. I gulped and shook my head, and edged around the crowd, ducking behind the curtain to the backstage area. There was a bouncer there, one of Candy’s crew, but he recognized me and let me pass.