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

by KT Strange

  “Easy,” I said, “like baking cakes.”

  “Do you even know how to bake?” Dean asked, a mixture of concern and amusement in his voice.

  “How fast does lightning travel?” I murmured, as the three figures started walking directly toward us… Seth glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “Asking for a friend,” I clarified, trying to muster up a devil-may-care smile. It was a half-hearted grimace instead, but I shoved my fears down deep.

  “They might just be locals,” Seth cautioned, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  “Mmm, maybe,” I replied. They were getting closer, weaving through the cars, their shoulders sloped, walking with purpose. My spine prickled. I knew they weren’t just locals, looking for a backdoor entrance to the venue. Seth and Dean knew it too, but they wanted to pretend it wasn’t going to be as bad as it really was.

  I cupped my hand against my thigh and felt the thin, thread-like spindle of power gather there. I was determined to get the drop on them before they got too close to us.

  One of them pushed back his hood, a crop of copper-red hair ruffling in the breeze as he stared at me. His eyes were dark, almost black, and I shivered at the magic in them. There was something different about him, about his companions.

  His hands shook as he lifted them up in front of himself, like he was trying to keep me back, or stop himself. That’s when I realized that each step he took was stilted, awkward, even clumsy, his feet hitting the pavement hard like violent hiccups.

  “The fuck?” Dean muttered.

  “They look like zombies,” Sean said a second later. I hadn’t bothered to look the woman in the eyes, not properly, when she came at us. Her movements had been fluid, graceful, and deadly, though, not like these guys.

  The other thing that was different? They didn’t smell of ash and bone, of death. There were faint hints of it in the air, but it wasn’t the overwhelming blanket of scent that normally came with hunters.

  “What do you know about mind control?” I asked under my breath. They were less than fifty feet from us. One of them stuck a hand out, wrapping it around the mirror of a car, gripping it tightly as his legs kept walking. With a grunt, he let go of the mirror, his whole body lurching forward toward us, nearly toppling ass over knees. Fifteen feet… “Stop!” I threw my hands up, pushing the power of my command, throwing everything I had into it.

  All three of them dropped to their knees, struck. Beside me, Seth’s inhale was sharp and loud. I shuddered as the three men—and I knew they were men from the sharp angles of their faces and the silhouettes of the bony bodies under their clothes—groaned and blinked at us, their eyes blacked out and dim. No iris, no sclera, just smudged darkness. It made my stomach churn with sickness. Their skin was chalky and dotted with pockmarks, telling me they probably spent most of their money on drugs.

  “These aren’t hunters,” I said, swallowing down the nausea in the back of my throat. “They’re… someone’s done something to them so they’ll act like hunters. I bet if-” I took a step forward. One of them snarled, baring his teeth.

  “That’s fucking close enough,” Dean said, grabbing me from behind and hanging onto my arm. “How long is your command gonna last?”

  “No idea,” I breathed out. They were obviously bespelled, ensorcelled, or something along those lines. But how would I fix it? Could I, even? It was the kind of magic reserved for healer-types, those who knew the pathways of body and brain. I had no training. I didn’t even think I could try, because I’d probably just end up killing them. My powers were brute force and overwhelming. This required something like a scalpel.

  I swallowed to wet my mouth, the tense moment almost too much to deal with.

  “You know, I think we got this,” Seth said, cracking his knuckles.

  “Oh, you think?” Dean asked, glancing at his fellow bandmate and unicorn.

  “Mmm, I like a challenge, don’t you?”

  “I like donuts, not challenges, honestly,” Dean replied, but didn’t stop Seth as he walked up to the first guy, grabbing him by the face. I yelped in shock as white light burst out from where their skin met, a sizzling sound filling the air.

  The man seized up, made a choking noise, and then fell back as Seth let him go, his shoulders squaring. The man grunted, and lay there, chest heaving.

  “Ah, man, it’s been a while since I’ve done a cleansing,” Seth said, shooting a look back at Dean. “You wanna try your hand?”

  “Nah, thanks, you seem to have got it handled.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Uh,” I said. “What’d you-” Seth stopped me before I could ask, grabbing the second man, face-hugger style, around both cheeks. I cringed and looked away as the man made a low shrieking sound, his body flailing.

  “Anything in him that isn’t, well, him, Seth’s cleaning it all out. It’s a bit like cauterizing a wound, but from the inside out.”

  “Ew,” I said, still not looking as the sound of a body hitting the pavement made me want to vomit.

  “Faster than a course of antibiotics,” Seth said cheerfully, and I peeked from behind the curtain of my curly hair as he grabbed the last one. The man’s shoulders shook and then slumped.

  Seth stepped back, dusting off his hands.

  “Fucking good job I just did,” he said, glancing at us with a smug expression.

  “Better wash those hands before you touch Chels, you gross fucker,” Dean snorted. Seth rolled his eyes. The men on the ground were breathing when I checked, their eyes scrunched closed.

  “So…” I motioned toward them. “What’re we gonna do with this?”

  “Ah, shit,” Craig interrupted any response from the unicorns as he came around the corner of the building. “Three?”

  “Not hunters,” Dean said with a shake of his head. Craig frowned and took a second look, toeing one of them with his boot.

  “Can you please just… stop kicking people? Dead or alive? It’s rude,” I said, finally unable to keep my feelings locked down. My breathing wasn’t rapid or anything, but I was feeling on edge, and I kind of just wanted to hide forever. “Is that it? Are there more?”

  “I did a sweep before coming back, the rest of the crowd is clean on the outside. They’re almost all in the venue anyway,” Craig said with a grimace. “If we missed one? They’re already inside.”

  An involuntary swallow choked the air out of my throat.

  “Inside?”

  “They wouldn’t let anyone looking like these guys in,” Seth said, gesturing to our trio of sleeping druggies. “The security guards are too smart. Ticket or no ticket, if you look like you’re high as a kite, you’re not getting in.”

  “The pat downs they do? Nobody’s bringing a blade in either,” Dean added with a decisive nod. They were settling my feelings, and I took a deep breath.

  “Okay,” I said, before looking down at the men that lay at our feet. “Can you… can… you make sure they’re okay?”

  “Yeah, we’ll stay with them until they come around. Craig, don’t leave her side,” Dean said, pointing at me.

  “She can handle herself. But, yeah, I get you,” Craig replied, eyeing me up. “You okay?”

  “Mmm,” I said, lying as best I could. Honestly? I was the furthest thing from okay. But I couldn’t tell them that. I didn’t want to look like I couldn’t manage the situation. I just needed to hang on until I got somewhere private.

  15

  Darcy

  Private was the back corner of the green room, curled up on the floor in the dark and muffled noise of the show as it ended. The crowd screamed for an encore. I was selfish. I just wanted the guys back with me, but I couldn’t get the image of those black, smudge-filled eyes out of my mind. But the guys? We all had jobs to do. Theirs was to perform their hearts out on stage. Mine was to keep them safe from backstage. And right then, I couldn’t even manage that, leaving Craig at the green room door while I let the tears fall. How far was my father willing to go to end
me and my happiness? Sending hunters, sending magic to brainwash random innocents?

  I couldn’t stop shaking, the panicked bile in the back of my throat threatening to come out. A blurry face moved into my vision—with dark hair tousled on top.

  Cash. I lifted my fingers up to run them along his cheek. He looked pale and worried.

  “Darlin’, you okay?” His voice was thick. When I nodded, he wrapped me up, his arms trembling as they encircled me. In that moment, I realized he needed the comfort I could give him almost as much as I needed him.

  It snapped something inside of me, and I came out of my moment of hysterics.

  “It’s fine,” I said, slicking my fingers through the hair on the back of his head, scratching my nails over his scalp. He sighed, his muscles going loose as he held me. “It’s all fine. We’re fine.”

  “Craig told us. I was about to go crazy, thinking I’d lose you, lose the pack-” he murmured, cutting himself off as his words grew choked and thick with unshed tears.

  “We’re all good.” The words were hollow in my throat, though. Everything we’d fought, every single battle, all the lives we’d taken to save our own… had it even been worth it? Max’s sacrifice had been for nothing. I couldn’t shake the horrible, all-consuming combination of grief and rage that she’d died for no reason at all.

  Nothing had changed. We were still hunted. My father still wanted me and my men dead.

  “Can we…” I trailed off, not sure how to ask for the quiet, private time that I desperately needed.

  “C’mon,” Cash said, as if he knew what I needed. He probably did, better than I knew myself. His hand slipped around mine, and he tugged on me gently. I followed, feeling like we were surrounded by a fog that wouldn’t break.

  Our tour bus was around the corner. Cash helped me up the stairs, shutting the doors behind us. It was deserted. Cash murmured into my hair that the rest of the band, Glory Rev, and Craig were doing another sweep of the venue to mop up what was left of the hunters if there were any more. They wanted to make sure none of the hunters would come back to get us. If there were any non-brainwashed hunters out there, and they survived the night, I’d be surprised.

  I had no guilty feelings whatsoever about their fate. They’d sealed it when they’d decided to come for us. Too bad for them, they’d picked people who could fight back. And too bad for the poor idiots who had been magicked to do the dirty work. Dean and Seth would be able to handle any who turned up.

  Cash hit the lights, dimming them as he led me to the back of the bus.

  “What’re you-” My question was cut off as he turned to me, the broad span of his body dwarfing mine as he lifted my chin up and kissed me.

  “Used to be that my kind, we marked a girl and she stayed ours,” he said. “She was safe, protected; the greater pack would protect her from danger, what with so many wolves around. But you keep running into danger, or danger keeps finding you. I swear to god, Darcy, one of these days I’m going to have a damned heart attack.” His words were whispered and rough, his breathing staggered in his chest as he kissed me again and again. The heat rose in my cheeks, his hands finding my shoulders and pressing me back against the corridor wall of the bus. “I wanna lock you up so you can’t go running head-first into chaos. But that’d be just clippings your wings, so I can’t find the courage in me to do that to you, either.” He closed his eyes and sighed out a long breath of air, the sound curling inside of me and making me shiver.

  “I don’t get what you’re saying,” I replied, trying to make sense of what he meant.

  “I know one day we’ll be safe,” he said, “but that day isn’t now. All I can do is bury myself inside of you and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.” His eyes flashed, pupils dilating with heat, setting off an answering burning sensation inside of me.

  “That seems kind of irresponsible,” I said, even as I was tilting my head up, asking for more of his mouth on mine.

  “I fucking love being irresponsible, you should know that,” he shot back, his mouth covering mine with a low groan that rumbled through his chest and into mine. His body pressed me into the wall, holding me still as my fingers dragged at his biceps, nails biting into the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

  It felt like nothing could touch us here. Maybe that’s why Cash needed it so badly, his cock rock-hard and grinding into me with each slow roll of his hips.

  I dug my nails in, and he growled low, the sound vibrating right through me; I gasped in response, heat fluttering inside of me until I felt dizzy. It was a good thing he was holding me up, because my knees were weak from the anxiety of earlier and the adrenaline of simply surviving another night when we shouldn’t have.

  Close call after close call? It was too much. I pushed at Cash’s cheek, and he turned his head to the side so I could kiss his neck. I wanted to taste the salt on his warm skin after his performance set, after our fight.

  The set.

  Shit.

  “Your fans,” I said, my words ending in a gasp as his hand found my breast through my shirt, cupping it.

  “If those sick freaks had gotten in? We’d all have died. I think I can have a victory fuck before I go out and meet fans,” he ground the words out from the back of his throat.

  “Is that all I am?” My voice was way breathier than I meant it to be. I wanted to sound bold and brave, but when Cash’s fingers dragged over my nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt and bra, I moaned instead.

  “The best victory fuck,” he assured me, a wild grin on his lips that was completely naughty and all Cash. He hitched his hands under my ass and lifted me—my shoes scraping on the wall of the bus—so I could kiss him, his mouth slotting over mine.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist. He let go, forcing me to flex my stomach muscles to stay with him, pressing my hot center against the solid bulge of his cock in his jeans.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, “fuckin’ fuck.”

  “Trying to,” I gasped, squirming and rocking my hips, needing more of that delicious friction to soothe the heat that was burning up between us. “Need to be more naked.”

  With a grunt, he pulled away, holding me steady as he walked us the last few strides down the hall, and kicked the door to the rear bedroom open.

  My back hit the bed, Cash followed closely, landing beside me, yanking at his shirt. My fingernails scratched my stomach as I pulled my shirt off, tossing it to the side. The heartstone thudded against my collarbone, preternaturally warm. He was just out of his jeans as I got out of mine, and we came together. I rolled on top of him and dragged my fingers down his hips. He cupped my ass with one hand and sighed, kissing the side of my forehead.

  “If you give me a minute,” he said, “patience-”

  “I don’t have the time to be patient,” I replied, then yelped when he curled me under him, pinning me down with a smirk.

  “You don’t have a damn choice on the matter.” He bit his lip, surveying me with a hunger that lit up his eyes. “Goddamn,” he said, and the single word had me shivering. He looked like he wanted to eat me alive-

  Oh.

  He slid down my body, lifting my legs from under his chest, his fingers warm on my thighs. My face flushed as he kissed over the thin fabric of my panties, his tongue hot right through the cotton. He didn’t just look like he wanted to eat me alive; he was intending on doing it.

  My cheeks were so hot, and my eyes clenched shut. His mouth teased me with dull, diffuse pressure that was winding me up at the same time it wasn't letting me get anywhere, the arousal muted and frustrating.

  Being near death, then having one of the sexiest guys on the planet holding me down and lapping at my underwear would do that to me.

  I reached down and fisted my fingers in his hair, prompting a laughing chuckle from him that vibrated against me and had me moaning in response.

  “Oh, it’s like that, huh?” he asked, lifting my hips and yanking my panties down. It was. My eyes were squeezed closed, and the
anticipation was slowly murdering me. When his tongue dipped between my folds, warm red light exploded on the insides of my eyelids. He licked me like he was starving for it—from the way his arms banded around my thighs, holding me still so I couldn’t buck up and demand the pace I wanted… he was desperate to wrest back control. Over me, over the night we’d had, anything. I could feel it in him, the slight tremble in his fingers as he forced breathy little cries out of the back of my throat.

  “Private party?” The low purr in Eli’s voice had me opening my eyes. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted over the arch of Cash’s back. I glanced away, and Eli stroked a hand up from my ankle to my knee. “Don’t be shy.”

  “Fuck off,” Cash muttered, lifting his mouth from me for a bare second, blowing cool air over my wet skin and making me shudder. “You’re distracting her.”

  “Then you’re not doing a good job,” Eli said with a chuckle. His belt buckle jingled as it hit the floor, his jeans whispering as they dragged down his legs. The bed dipped as he knelt next to me.

  “Like hell,” Cash said into the inside of my thigh, leading away from my pussy with light bites. It was a come down that I needed, a moment to catch my breath, as Eli stretched out beside me and curved a hand over my belly. His fingers splayed wide, stroking slowly, the tips dragging up my stomach to wrap around one breast. His thumb was rough as it caressed my nipple in a slow circle.

  Cash was in no mood to get right back to where he’d left off, and, even when I nudged him with my knee, he stubbornly shook his head. I bit my lip to keep from clawing at his hair, because that’d just make him dig his heels in deeper. Then I’d never get to orgasm.

  At least, that’s how it felt.

  That’s when Eli started up with the dirty talk, lying next to me casually, like he didn’t have his hand on his cock, stroking up the length of it slowly as he watched me.

  “You’re being so good for him, and he’s not giving you anything, is he, sweetheart?” Eli crooned quietly in the darkness of the room. “Maybe, if you ask nice, I’ll take you once he’s done… when you’re wet and open and begging me for it.”