Phoenixfire: A paranormal reverse harem romance (The Rogue Witch Book 8) Read online

  “He can stay new,” Eli said. “I’ll fix it so he never gets old.” His eyes glittered with rage, although he didn’t fight the grip Cash had on him.

  “Elias,” I said, and he whipped his head to look at me. His throat tightened around a swallow, and Cash stepped away. Eli’s muscles relaxed, the fight running out of him like water. It wasn’t worth the fight, the police headache afterward, and the kid looked like he’d wet himself anyway, so…

  “I think I’m good,” I said, stepping away from the register. The thought of spending money had just turned sour in my gut—all the happiness, the lightness of the moment had been sucked right out of me. The girl shot a murderous look at Gawky Guy.

  “I don’t blame you,” she replied, “Brandewith, go report to Tia in the back. I’ll be there in a minute. And don’t you dare for a second think to lie to her about what just happened.”

  He slinked off, keeping a careful eye on Eli as he went.

  “I can’t apologize enough for him,” the girl said, “does he know you?” She looked at me, then the guys.

  A non-fan. Thank god. It was good to be treated like normal people for once.

  “Yeah, but not personally,” I said, unsure of what to do with myself, other than stand there like an awkwardly-placed floor lamp in the middle of someone’s living room.

  “There’s some good shops all down the high street,” the girl said, giving me a tentative smile. “If you want to come back later, I’ll have these set aside for you. I can promise you, Brandewith will not be here.”

  “Thanks,” Cash said, taking a slow breath and pulling me close to him. His weight and presence calmed the fluttering nerves in my chest.

  We stepped out into the street, the fresh air of the day pouring over my skin and cooling the back of my throat as I inhaled it.

  I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day shopping anymore. It had been a stupid idea to begin with. Everything was different now for us; the truth about our relationship was out, and we couldn’t expect to continue on as we had been.

  For better or for worse, we were in the shit now. I just had to… deal with it. Somehow. And hope the guys were willing to put up with that kind of BS until we dropped off the news cycle, whenever that would be.

  Hopefully, with any luck, it would be soon.

  11

  Darcy

  It was obvious by the end of the day that we needed a break. Waking up to see my face splashed over local tabloids—something I’d never expected to happen—was the final straw for me. When we returned to the bus, Eli took one look at me and got on the phone to the label. He told them, in no uncertain terms, that the band needed a few days off to recover from the flu.

  Shows would be moved, fans would be disappointed, and tickets would need to be refunded. It sucked, and it made me feel even worse. But I was desperate for downtime, and so was the band. Normally I’d be able to just… deal. But not anymore.

  That saying about how you needed to break a few eggs to make an omelette, or whatever? I was learning what it was like to be the egg.

  We holed up in the fanciest hotel that Charlie could find, and decided that three days of eating room service meals and watching mindless British television would be the best thing for us.

  “I could get you a wig?” Ace offered as I lay on one of the couches. Eli and Cash had sprung for a penthouse suite with two bedrooms. There wasn’t quite enough room in one of the king beds for all of us, unless we really squished, which made me feel extra shitty. If we were on the tour bus, continuing on with things, we could all pile into the bedroom at the back and just deal. It felt normal, with the walls closing in on us and the bed running from one side of the bus to the other.

  Beds in hotels didn’t have walls though, which meant that whoever was on the end was likely to get shoved off in the middle of the night. And that made for grumpy werewolves.

  “A wig?” I asked Ace. He was curled up next to me, my head bumping his thigh. His fingers drummed on his knee for a moment before he smiled.

  “Yeah, a wig, to hide your identity. A wig, some sunglasses, and a ball cap. Isn’t that what all Marvel superheroes wear to disguise themselves?” he asked. I goggled at him.

  “Since when have you watched Captain America?” I replied. He scrunched up his nose and dragged his fingers through my hair. My eyes shut at the gentle touch. At least here, in this space, the world was being kept at bay. I could hide here. There was no one to disturb us, except for room service, and that was only when we called for it. I could breathe easily, for once.

  “Don’t you think Finn kinda looks like him? I know Eli does. Has that whole stick-up-the-ass thing going on for him,” Ace said, keeping his voice quiet. The rest of the guys were playing cards around the table at the far end of the room, giving me space.

  “I heard that,” Eli said, not lifting his eyes from his handful of cards. He knew if he did, Cash and Charlie would cheat. The two were incorrigible like that, and worked together to scam the twins out of all their betting money. It was kinda sexy and kind of annoying, especially when things devolved into shouting and the occasional thrown chair. Handsome idiots.

  “They don’t look anything like Chris Evans,” I said, pinching Ace’s belly. He grumbled at me, and then bent down to kiss my forehead.

  “Yeah, not the actor, but, like, the whole coat hanger in their shirts, chests puffed out-”

  I groaned and smacked a hand against his mouth, hushing him.

  “Be quiet, before you give them ideas, and they start pounding on you more than they do on Cash.”

  “They only beat on me ‘cause they know I can take it,” Cash said, absently, as he stared at his cards with intention. Behind his hooded eyes, I knew he was planning mischief. With Cash, that was pretty much the automatic assumption. Was he half-asleep, sprawled on a couch in the tour bus? He was planning mischief. Was he eyeing up a new drum kit in the window of some random instrument store we passed? Planning mischief. Wrapping an arm around my waist, grinding his cock up against me while we were backstage in the shadows? Moved from planning mischief into executing it.

  The guy couldn’t help it. It was in his fucking DNA.

  I shifted, sitting up, so I could lean against Ace. His arm curled around my shoulders, and I soaked in his heat, letting my head drop against his chest.

  Perfect. Exactly what I needed. We’d had a good dinner in—steaks for the boys, pasta for me, because seeing them rip into red meat that near bloody was off-putting—and I was ready to nap as a London storm rolled in, misting up the windows and swamping everything with fog.

  Part of me hoped we could be in Europe for Christmas, maybe even in Paris. Somewhere far away from Seattle, where bad memories and Max haunted me. It would be my first major holiday without her. Before the guys, Max had pretty much been my only family. It was going to hurt, real bad.

  The buzz about our relationship would die down, maybe in a week or two—hopefully—and I could resume going out into public like a normal human being, without idiot fanboys and -girls making snarky remarks in my direction.

  The heat the guys were taking on social media… wasn’t pretty. A lot of ultra-conservative wingnuts were mad, along side of some very unhappy fangirls.

  For the rest, though? The rest of the fans just seemed happy for the guys. That was nice to see. It’s what they needed and what they deserved. After giving so much of themselves for so long to their music, and devoting a hundred percent of their lives to their fans? They deserved the support in loving who they wanted to love.

  That wasn’t selfish just because the one they loved was me, right? Ugh, things were so complicated sometimes.

  “I’m thinking too much,” I said to Ace, turning my head to press a kiss into the side of his neck. He shivered when I did, and I smiled. I loved having that effect on him. Knowing that just a touch from me was enough to turn him into a puddle was… it was just the best. I hoped I could always do that for him.

  Even the best hotels d
idn’t have drapery that was proof against a busy city with its bright lights and constant traffic. Staying in London was no exception to that rule. The clock read north of 3 AM when I woke up, a flicker of lights around the edge of the curtains. I sat up slowly, Eli to my left, and Ace to my right. The rest of the guys were in the other bedroom, piled into the other king bed.

  My stomach rumbled. It was the worst time to get a case of middle of the night munchies, but that was life. If I had to be honest, it was probably the guys’ fault. Eli’d put me to sleep with some enthusiastic fucking that had burnt up all my stores of energy. If I waited until morning to eat, I’d be sick from hunger pains.

  I snuck out of bed, crawling over Ace, because he was the heavier sleeper. He mumbled and rolled onto his stomach, shoving his face into the pillow as my feet hit the floor. I repressed the urge to tousle his hair, which would just wake him.

  Eli sat up and swung his legs out of bed as I got to the door, his naked body pale in the dim light.

  “You alright?” His voice was rough with sleep, and he walked to me, reaching for me. I let him pull me in for a close hug, shutting my eyes at the soft warmth of his bare skin on mine. “You’ll be cold,” he said, tugging a robe off the back of the chair next to the door, and sliding it over my shoulders. His fingers lingered at my waist as he belted it on me.

  “What?” I whispered, as Ace turned over on the bed and somehow mushed himself further into the pillows. I caught Eli giving him an affectionate, warm look, and my breath hitched. There was no way to accurately convey the love the pack had for one another. I wondered if they loved each other more than me.

  I wouldn’t be able to blame them if they did. They’d been together longer than I’d been alive.

  “Eli?” I pressed him, and he bent, brushing a light kiss across my forehead, pushing away my hair as he did.

  “You look like you’ve got plans,” he admitted after a moment. “Want company?”

  “I’m just ordering room service in the middle of the night, like the decadent princess I am,” I said, turning from him and walking into the living area of our hotel suite. The door clicked shut behind me, and Eli joined me as I perched on the edge of the couch, picking up to phone in my order. “Want anything?”

  Eli shook his head, no, and relaxed until I was all his again, sitting in the same spot that Ace and I had been in earlier that night.

  “I feel like we’re still running,” I whispered into the quiet dark. The lights from outside leaked into the room, pouring dim blue hues over the furniture and us. “I don’t even know how I feel. Confused, mostly. I feel like I’m holding you guys back.”

  “Because of a few missed shows?” Eli asked, with a roll of his eyes.

  “It’s more than that; it’s your relationship with your fans. That’s important to you-”

  “Well, at least you’re talking your nonsense at me, instead of keeping it bottled up,” Eli said, his voice edging on flat.

  “Eli.” I glared at him. “Why can’t you take this seriously?”

  “I do,” he said.

  “Then consider how I’m feeling,” I shot back, the irritation in my chest fizzing angrily.

  “Maybe consider how we’re feeling first?” He tilted his head, his blue eyes dark in the low light. “Maybe we always wanted this, and, now that it’s here, we’re not afraid to face it head-on.”

  My phone was plugged in on the coffee table, and I grabbed it, pulling up Twitter. The angry messages weren’t hard to find. It only took me a second.

  “This?” I asked, shoving it in his face. “This is what you wanted?”

  His gaze dropped to the screen I held in my hand, and, for a moment, uncertainty flitted across his face.

  “I wanted to love you,” he said, “without worrying about what anyone thought. And I’m not. I’m not worrying. What they think doesn’t matter. We’re not hurting anyone. We’re loving you, and you’re loving us. If they want to burn our albums, or write us off, then let them.”

  “But music is your dream,” I said, my hand dropping into my lap, swallowing the feelings down. “And I’m stopping you from reaching that potential.”

  Eli’s eyes blazed, the only thing about him that told him I’d crossed some sort of line.

  “So what do you want to do about it?” he asked, his voice dangerous, soft, raising the hair on the back of my neck. “You wanna leave?” The words hung in the air, so corporeal I could almost see them. I felt a desire to backpedal, hard, because that wasn’t what I meant.

  I didn’t know what I’d meant. It had just… popped out of my mouth.

  “I just don’t want… this,” I said, poking my phone with one finger. Eli’s expression softened, and he exhaled. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.

  “You could go, you know,” he said. “We wouldn’t… we’re not your captors, Darce.” I edged closer to him, my knee nudging his.

  “I wasn’t trying to say you were.”

  “Yeah, you weren’t,” he sounded gruff and irritated with himself. “But I nearly ordered you to stay.”

  I bit my lip. He glanced at me, and I cocked an eyebrow.

  “Oh, really.”

  He gave me a rueful smile and shrugged one shoulder.

  “I’m not good at letting go of the things I’ve been fighting all my life to have.”

  “So, your music?”

  “It’s not going anywhere, and, I hope… you aren’t either.” For a moment he looked scared, like he wasn’t sure of me. I raised a finger to run over the nearly imperceptible marks he and the guys had left on me, my neck almost smooth despite them.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes following the path my fingers took.

  “How does that work, anyway?” I asked, because the mechanics of breaking the kind of bond we had… it made me sick to think about it, but I needed to know right then and there. I didn’t think I’d ever stop loving them, but not knowing was making me feel kind of trapped.

  “We’ll always feel you,” he said, “but time heals all wounds, even your heart being ripped through your ribs.”

  “Has it ever happened?”

  “A bonded leaving her packmates? Not that I’ve heard of. But we’re not holding you here. If you didn’t… love us, we wouldn’t want you to feel obligated-” he spread his hands and fell quiet, staring at his fingertips.

  I grabbed one of his hands. Uncertain Eli was… new. I wasn’t sure I liked seeing him unsettled.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.

  “Wouldn’t blame you if you did, darling,” he said, lifting a hand to my cheek. His fingers were rough and shaky on my skin. I turned my head and kissed his palm, wanting to ground him, let him know that what we had was real.

  “You’re worth a world of trouble,” I said. His eyes glittered, and it looked like he was going to cry. He blinked rapidly. Threat averted.

  “Then why are you acting like you’re not?” His words were hurt, and I pressed close to him, pretty much shoving myself into his lap.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right.” I kissed him, his lips firm for a moment before he gave way to me, his lower lip heavy and hot between mine.

  He was right. I was worth it. They’d chosen me, and I’d chosen them. We were in this together. It wasn’t anything like a marriage vow, but better than, even. The thought of living without them, or leaving them behind while I ran because of my own crazy feelings…

  It felt like I was dangling on the edge of the cliff, and the only thing holding me back from the precipice was them.

  “I’m worth the trouble,” I said.

  “Damn straight,” he replied, his breath heavy in his chest. He gazed at me, his knuckles running up and down my spine through the robe. Warmth blossomed in my belly, turning hot, hot, hotter as the seconds sped by.

  “I’ve got room service,” I said, when Eli’s look turned sly and meaningful, his hand palming the curve of my ass.

  “Mm,” he said, the noise not an agreeme
nt. He kissed the side of my neck, and I shivered.

  “Seriously-”

  The knock at the door cut me off, and I groaned, pulling away from him.

  “Get dressed,” I said, giving a purposeful look at his cock, half-hard and rising to the occasion. He grabbed a pillow and moved to put it in front of his junk. “You are not going to sexually harass our poor room service person,” I hissed. He snickered and got to his feet, taking lanky steps toward the bedroom.

  Idiot. I went to the front door, tugging my robe more tightly around my body as I did so. There was a stack of small bills on the entryway table for tipping, and I grabbed a few.

  “Thanks-” I said, as I opened the door. I didn’t have a second to scream before Craig had me up against the wall, his hand clapping over my mouth, muffling any noise I tried to make.

  His eyes were dark, unshed tears at the edge of his lashes. He looked unkempt, his clothes worn out and filthy.

  “Where is she?” he demanded, his body pressing against mine so hard my ribs protested. “What the hell did you do to Max?”

  12

  Darcy

  The thing about having a pack of werewolves for lovers? They don’t miss anything.

  Eli burst back into the room, naked, Ace right behind him in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. Craig wrapped an arm around my throat and yanked me back into the doorway. I could feel the hard slam of his pulse where his wrist connected with my skin. I gasped and twisted in his grip. The other bedroom door shot open, and the rest of the pack piled out, Finn nearly skidding into Cash when he stopped short at who was holding me hostage.

  Charlie met my gaze as he slipped past Finn, his lips tilting in a smirk.

  “Fry ‘im, sweetheart,” Charlie said. My mind went from blank panic to having a full plan formulated in a second, and my power crackled to the surface from its dormant, sleeping place inside of me.