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

by KT Strange

  “They’re passionate,” I said, and Willa made a noise of agreement.

  “Well is the beefed-up security helping?”

  “Yeah, no more incidents. It’s going okay. Plus, the security guards make the guys look small, and it’s hilarious.” I sat up, waffling internally before saying it. “How are you?”

  “Barfing. At night. It’s rude. Like, it’s not even real morning sickness. Just all the rest of the day sickness. Thanks for asking, though.”

  “How’s Troy handling his right hand going on maternity leave in a few months?” Willa was one of the closest things to a friend I had now. It hurt to think she was going through her pregnancy alone.

  “Not well, but I told him it’s too bad. I think he feels guilty, because he went with me for my last ultrasound. The tech thought he was the dad, and he wheezed. I thought he was going to have an asthma attack right there in the office.”

  “Does he even have asthma?”

  “No, that’s the funny part.”

  “You have a weird sense of humor.”

  “I don’t miss him, you know? He was gross. It was a gross mistake. I shouldn’t have slept with him, but boom there it is. And now I’ve got this tiny creature inside of me and… I feel okay. I really do. You sound worried.”

  “Of course I’m worried.”

  “Well, that’s sweet, but don’t. I’m doing good.” Willa did sound okay, happy even, her voice warm and content.

  “Okay, but if you need anything-”

  Finn popped the door to the back bedroom open and grinned at me.

  “Willa?” he asked. I nodded.

  “Tell her it’s totally fine if she wants to name her kid after me.”

  “I heard that,” Willa said dryly. “I’m not naming my boy Finn. That was Finn right? He’s the only one egotistical enough to say something like that. Tell him maybe if it’s a girl, though-”

  Finn groaned before shutting the door as I flipped him the bird.

  “Things going okay with you two?” Willa asked, like she wanted to pry, but also wanted to be respectful.

  I took a breath, wanting to tell her everything that was going on—with me, with the whole band… but I hesitated. She didn’t need to know that.

  I just wanted her to. I needed someone to fill that aching, bloody space Max had left when she’d died.

  It wasn’t fair to Willa to treat her like a replacement though, and I was pretty sure she wouldn’t understand.

  “You know, you go to bat for that band like no intern I’ve ever seen,” Willa continued, like she hadn’t asked me about my relationship. “That impressed me… after you got over your initial temper tantrum.”

  “It was not a temper-”

  “It so was,” Willa said, and I could hear her smile on the other end of the line. I whined. “See? Temper tantrum.”

  “I just didn’t know what I wanted.”

  “Nobody ever does. I mean, we think we do, but… yeah, no.”

  “This has to be costing a fortune,” I said, “shouldn’t we be talking actual business?”

  “You’re doing great. How are the radio spots going?”

  “They’re good. The guys are being charming. We’re leaving a lot of signed CDs behind and other swag. Other than that blip at the first show, things have been pretty peaceful. As you’ve seen, our merch sales are insannnnne,” I said, rolling over to grab my tour binder with all the paperwork. Tablets and laptops were great, but paper never ran out of batteries. I flipped through it, looking for our sales figures.

  “Marty Parker wants to produce their next album,” Willa said, dropping that bomb on me like it was nothing. I nearly dropped my phone.

  Marty Parker was the pop producer from Sweden. He had more hits in the last five years than anyone. Everyone he produced was either T-Swizzle-massive or became as big as her after working with him.

  “Whoa! What, seriously? But, uh, he doesn’t do rock-”

  “He wants to try his hand at it. Something about the raw charisma the guys exude convinced him. He was at the London gig and got caught up in the fan riot. Apparently he thought it was hilarious.”

  “He has a weird sense of humor; someone could have been hurt,” I said, but still… wow. “Do you want me to tell the guys?”

  “Maybe not yet. Let them get through a few more shows.”

  “I don’t like keeping secrets,” I said, my voice soft.

  “You’re keeping some pretty big secrets right now, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice funny. I felt a weird sense of something coming at me, like a train, hurtling toward me at a speed I couldn’t stop.

  “Uh-”

  “So, how long have you been fucking the whole band?” Willa, to her credit, didn’t sound mad, but more amused. Horror filled me anyway.

  “Um-”

  “It’s fine. Just maybe be more discreet? Like, the merch girls heard you.”

  “Oh my god.” I clapped a hand over my mouth.

  “Soooo… anything else you want to tell me?”

  “Oh my god.”

  “Chill. It’s kinda hot. They’re good in bed, right? Like, please tell me they’re treating you well and this isn’t some sort of weird gang ba-”

  “Oh my god! Stop, stop, stop!” I shouted. The door burst open and Finn stood there, his eyes wide.

  “You okay?”

  Charlie half shoved him to the side.

  “Darcy?”

  “I’m fine,” I hissed at them. “This is your fault. Get out.” When they stood there, I growled and reached for my sandal, abandoned on the end of the bed. Both guys opened their eyes wide and ducked, slamming the door behind them. I scooped up my phone, I’d dropped it in the heat of the moment.

  “You alright?” Willa sounded like she was laughing.

  “I’m not sure who I hate more right now—you, the merch people, or my idiot band,” I said, my face hot. “Who else knows?”

  “Eh, it’ll probably make its way back to the label in a few weeks, but don’t stress. I’ll quash any rumors. Just… Darcy? Be careful, okay, those fangirls are really getting crazy, and I don’t need someone pulling a Tonya Harding on you.”

  I frowned.

  “Who?”

  “Oh my god, you’re young. Okay. Go snuggle your boys. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Why so sour?” Eli wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his lap. We were outside the next venue. I’d finally calmed down and actually emerged from the back room. I was ignoring the merch people, because, fuck, looking at them had my face flushing bright red. The whole situation was not cool, and I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t believe they’d heard me.

  I was never having sex again.

  At least, not on the tour bus. Maybe in hotels. Hotel sex was nice. There were big showers and fluffy towels for cleaning up after.

  Eli nudged me, and I nudged back before resting my head on his shoulder.

  “I talked to Willa. I think she’s doing okay with her baby bump. She dragged Troy to an ultrasound. Actually, he went willingly, and that makes me laugh so much.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re laughing,” he murmured. The rest of the guys were playing a rousing game of cards for bets… of whatever it was they were eating—some random pile of boiled candies that the last radio station had given them as a welcome gift. The Glory Rev guys were all on the other bus, leaving us with just our merch team.

  I wish they’d taken the merch team. I wanted privacy with my guys to tell them that Willa knew, and that our secret was going to come out sooner or later, probably on social media, and make all the stupid gossip website headlines.

  Great.

  I was going to be labeled Phoenixcry’s whore. Never mind that no one really knew how close we were, how special our relationship was. This was going to put an extra strain on things, and… oh god, Gem.

  Gem was going to rip my face off.

  Eli hugged me tight.

  “Whatever’s got you knotted up, forget about it
for now. It’ll keep until we can talk it out.” His fingers gently wrapped around my wrist, thumb stroking along the pulse. “It’ll be okay.”

  “I hope so,” I said quietly.

  “Hey, guys,” Seth leaned in through the open door of the bus, calling up the stairs to us. “Soundcheck in fifteen. You want us to check your instruments for you? You can stay in here if you want. I think we’ve got the levels down, and then Finn can just come in real quick and check his vocals.”

  The guys exchanged looks, Ace swallowing visibly.

  Bands that didn’t do their own soundcheck… that was big league shit. It marked a departure from a band that toured in a tiny van to a band that was soon going to be playing large, sold out stadium shows. If luck held.

  “Yeah, that’s fine, if you’re sure,” Eli said. Seth shot him a grin.

  “Whatever you want, captain,” he said before disappearing.

  “We should go talk to the venue staff,” Veronica, the head merch girl said. With long, platinum locks braided over her shoulder, and black tattoos all up her dark skin, she was no-nonsense and serious, despite her hipster clothes and the huge plugs in her earlobes. She crooked her finger to the rest of the merch team, and they followed her without a word. The merch guy gave me a curious look as he went, and then we were on our own.

  “Okay, talk,” Charlie said, turning around from where he was holding his hand of cards. Cash peeked over his shoulder, getting an eyeful of his hand. I tried not to smile about that before sighing.

  “Look, so… word has gotten out about us,” I said, drawing my fingers in a wide horizontal circle. Finn’s eyebrows hiked up.

  Charlie sat back in his seat. Ace coughed.

  “Well,” Eli said, “that’s the way it should be, then.” He hugged me tight against his chest.

  “This is going to create a pack of trouble.”

  “We’re a troublesome pack,” Charlie said, smiling with ease. “It’ll be fine, sweetheart. We’ve never felt guilty for loving you, and if the world has a problem with it… well, it’s not the same place it was even a decade ago. If they find out… that’s… whatever.”

  I inhaled.

  “But this could impact how fans see you.”

  “Fuck them. I mean, not literally,” Ace said, clearing his throat. “All that matters is the pack. We’ve got you. We’ve got each other. And they’re not gonna turn their backs on us, not enough to make a difference. Sure, some people will be bitches about it, but, whatever, we don’t need them in our lives. We don’t.”

  I bit my lip.

  “Is that how you all feel?”

  Finn’s eyes glittered with emotion.

  “I’d go on Twitter right now and tell the whole damn world,” he said.

  “Please don’t,” I begged. “I never wanted this. I mean, this public life. I just wanted… I wanted to be loved.”

  The words tumbled out of me; they were bent over from emotion, it was painful to admit. All I’d ever wanted was to be loved. I hadn’t thought that was true—I’d hidden away from feelings for so long. But now that I had the guys? I realized that it was true. Letting the world in to see our relationship felt like a threat. I was terrified that I’d be ripped from them, or they’d be pulled from me. I tried not to think about that.

  They’d never leave me, not willingly. The threats we faced were gone now, right? So why was my stomach knotted up, my face hot, and a sick feeling creeping up the back of my throat? Was I having an anxiety attack?

  “It’s all gonna be fine,” Finn said. “We’ll just get out ahead of the message.” He glanced at Charlie. “Wanna hit up Willa, and figure out a good press announcement?”

  “A presser?” I squeaked. “No.”

  “No?” Finn asked. “Why don’t we just beat them all to the punch, so they don’t have a chance?” He cocked his head and then sighed, spearing his fingers through his hair. “Shit, sorry, I’m doing it again.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “No, it’s okay-”

  “No,” Finn said, his eyes flashing with anger that I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “I always run out ahead of the pack, ahead of you-”

  “Been a problem you’ve had since you were a pup,” Eli drawled. “I know you don’t mean anything by it.”

  “Yeah, but does Darcy?” Finn turned to look at me. “You tell me how you want us to handle this. I’m sorry I stopped listening to what you were practically shouting at me. Again.”

  “I like this version of Finn. It’s all upgraded, sensible, not brash and idiotic,” Cash said to the ceiling, and laughed when Finn shot him a dirty look. An empty pop can followed, hitting Cash on the shoulder.

  “Don’t litter,” Ace scolded.

  “It’s not litter if it’s inside,” Charlie said. “It’s just… being a pig, that’s all.”

  As the guys bantered, I tried to come up with a good solution to the problem we had in front of us. Sometimes I wished life would just… slow the fuck down. For a minute. Everything was always a million miles at a time, and I barely had time to catch my breath.

  “After this tour is over, I want a vacation,” I grumbled. “Somewhere private.”

  “Where we can shift?” Eli’s voice rumbled through me as he held me tight.

  “Yeah, I’d like that,” my voice was wistful. Finn reached out and twined one of my curls around his fingers.

  “You don’t have to have all the answers. If you wanna wait on this, or think it over… maybe we should talk to Willa-”

  “You think the fans are gonna go batshit in a bad way?” I asked. Willa had said… but I wasn’t sure if I’d wanted to believe her. But now? The bus was quiet. The guys exchanged looks before Charlie ran his hand over his face with a sigh. Ace rubbed the back of his neck. The other three just took on their Ye Olde Wolfe stoic faces.

  “I mean… maybe?” Charlie spread his hands in the air, not meeting my eyes. “But, in the end, does it matter, as long as we’re honest? We’ve always been up-front with our fans-”

  “Y’know, minus the whole fangs and tails stuff,” Ace added. Charlie elbowed him, and Ace shoved back with a growl.

  “They’re like extended family. Even though our fanbase has gotten way bigger, I still remember the people who showed up to our first gigs. I know they’ll get it, and, looking at you, sweetheart? How could they not fall just as much in love with you as they did with us and our music?” Charlie’s dark eyes were warm, his smile crooked. My heart trembled inside my chest.

  I wanted to believe him, so badly.

  “I’ll start drafting up a post for our social media,” I said, letting my breath go as Eli pulled me in even tighter.

  Maybe, for once, things could be just that easy for us.

  Maybe.

  7

  Darcy

  “VIPs at this one. Don’t forget to change into nice shirts and have a spare for after the show, so you’re not all sweaty and gross for the fan hugs.”

  It was a day later, and we had another show in front of us. The guys had approved my post, and I’d sent it out the night before. We were hoping that we could get some sleep in before things broke in the news. Part of me wondered what news outlet would even care. Sure, Phoenixcry was burning up the radio charts, getting added to the hottest streaming playlists on Spotify, and had seen bigger hard-copy sales at shows than any other artist on the XOhX roster (at least, in recent history, fuckyouverymuch, Napster)… but was it really news that all five guys were in a relationship with their tour manager?

  In the dreams I had after posting, everything was fine; it was a nothing-burger, and we were able to go on with our lives relatively undisturbed, playing music and touring the world.

  It’s weird how the nightmare only came to life when I woke up.

  “I gotta do laundry,” Ace said, rummaging through his duffel bag. I raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Already? We’ve been gone less than a week.”

  “Ahhhhh… Didn’t pack enough,” he replied with
a shy grin. “I should’ve listened to you.”

  “There’s a shop down the street selling tacky souvenirs. You can grab a local t-shirt, make the fans happy,” I said with a shake of my head. Cash came out of the back, looking sheepish. “Oh my god, not you too?”

  “I’m not sure what happened, exactly, but I swear I brought more than three shirts.”

  I groaned and looked at the ceiling.

  “It’s like you’re three. Years old. How long have you guys been touring? This should be child’s play for you.” I sounded irritable because I was. I’d woken up to five irate emails from Gem. I hadn’t opened them, because Willa had emailed me first and told me she’d handle all the XOhX fallout, and we should focus on the tour. On top of that, more than twenty different gossip sites had picked up the story, and we were all distracted and wondering how the night’s show would go.

  Oh, and there was the delightful little footnote of how everyone on the tour but my guys and Glory Rev were treating me weird. That was just… just great.

  I was now Darcy Llewellyn, purveyor of fine scarlet letters. My only bit of childish gratitude was that Jake Tupper wasn’t around anymore to make lewd remarks and ask me if I was that easy. I wouldn’t have been able to resist punching him, if my guys didn’t get there first.

  So we were up to our ass-cracks in gossip, we still didn’t have all the gear we’d left behind at the venue with the fan riot, and we were out of clean t-shirts. You know, exactly the way I wanted the next show to start.

  “Darcy,” the merch guy, Jakey, hustled up to me as I stepped off the bus. “I think we somehow left behind some boxes last night at load-out, because we’re missing all of the size medium shirts and the entire supply of silicone wrist bands.”

  Fucking t-shirts were going to be the end of me. I growled under my breath.

  “How did we miss that? Call the last venue, find out where they are, and let’s see if we can send a runner to get them. It’s only two hours away, and we cannot go into this show with no medium shirts.”