by KT Strange
Finn made a noise and Chelsea fell quiet. Her words sank into me, one by one.
"What do you mean by you glamoured me? Us?"
Regret, apprehension, and a hint of self-loathing—each expression flitted across Chelsea's face at my question. Dread was collecting in my gut and I squeezed Finn's hand tight. She didn't want to tell me this, whatever it was. Could unicorns lie? That was stupid, of course they could, because she'd lied to me about who and what she was from the beginning.
I shouldn't be uncharitable, it's not like I'm wearing a pointy hat and showing my broom off to people. I waited for her to work up the courage to tell me whatever was so awful about being glamoured, and I got the sense that it was pretty bad.
"Humans, well, not just humans," Chelsea's gaze flicked to Finn's face then back to mine where it remained. "Unicorns can sort of, we're. . . how do I explain this. Unicorns are something like magical historians, so we can push people to think things, or do things, not bad things!" She must have seen the dawning horror on my face. "Never bad things, no. Just, people want to talk to us, they lose their inhibitions, sometimes we can make them feel more relaxed, or sleepy, comfortable. And sometimes even, if we concentrate hard enough, we can sort of fuzz out your memories. Last night, you and Max? I had to. I had to help you sleep, I had to, Darcy."
There was only one question that buzzed in the back of my mind, or at least, the only one that was really loud. The rest of my thoughts were muted, shocked, maybe.
"Why?" My voice was so small in my ears. Chelsea's face fell.
"You were attacked, sweetheart, you and Max, by a hunter," Finn's rumbling words didn't make any sense.
"No," I said. "We came back to the bus—"
"You and Max were attacked by a hunter inside the venue, out by the fire exit," Chelsea said, and I froze.
The overwhelming fear came back. Max, a knife to her throat, panic on her face. My lungs stopped moving, my fingers going icy cold. Sweat broke out on the back of my neck. There was a thin taste, like stomach acid, at the back of my throat. Max was going to die, Max was going to—
A low, soft rumbling noise started up, breaking through the memory that had swamped me, flooding all of my senses. Finn. Finn was doing his purring thing. I sagged against him, fingers splaying on his chest to soak up his warmth. He tugged me close and sighed, wrapping me in warmth and safety, hiding me from my own memories.
"I'm so sorry," Chelsea's voice was broken, tear-filled. I shifted in Finn's embrace so I could look at her.
"I don't know what to say." My throat felt rough as I spoke. "I kinda. . . I don't know." I let my eyes slide shut and I focused on the soft rumble emanating from Finn's chest, and how it spread warmth through me, calming the panic that had gripped me so fast.
We were quiet, the sound of passing cars outside, Charlie and Cash sniping at each other as Elias told them to shut up and get back to work. My mind rolled over Chelsea's confession, all of it, trying to absorb it and have it make sense.
"So. . ." Long moments had passed. "Max has no idea what happened last night?" I let my hand stay on Finn's stomach, feeling the play of his muscles as he tried to keep still for me. "Her neck. That's what the bandage was."
God I felt stupid. Everything sort of clicked, why we were on the Glory Rev bus, why I'd been curled up in a bunk with Max and not asleep on our van.
"I really am sorry." Chelsea was nearly crying. I lifted my head.
"Stop apologizing, please, it's—it's not okay, but I get it," I said, even if I didn't really understand all of it. The whole thing was just one big mess in my head. Well, it wasn't the first time in the past two months I'd had to shift my entire worldview of who people were and what I needed to think about them. The question was out of me before I could stop it. "So, are you and the guys all virgins?"
"Darce," Finn groaned, and I could tell he wanted to rub his hand over his face.
"What?" I pulled away from him and gave him a level stare. "My memories got fucked with. I think I have a right to know." My eyebrow raised, I turned to Chelsea. Her cheeks were pink, but there was a tiny smile on her lips.
"That's not even how the lore goes," Finn groused. "Only a virgin can ride a unicorn—" He paused when he realized the double-meaning of his words and he closed his mouth, wisely choosing to remain silent instead of continuing to talk.
"So, unicorns." My whole body felt limp, sorta weak. I needed like, three coffees and a box of donuts, right then. Somehow, I'd scam some extra food out of this situation. "Is everyone on the XOhX label a non-mundane?" I shot Finn a look and he swallowed hard. "Some pixie hippy country singer, maybe? A DJ who's secretly a will'o'wisp?" I tried not to sound too bitter at being kept in the dark.
Chelsea let out a tentative laugh, testing the waters to see where we were in our friendship and how bad things might be. I took a breath and let my shoulders settle.
"Hunters last night at the show. But Max was fin—" I stopped. Craig. His face flashed in front of my eyes. The smell of blood, the spray of it as he hacked through skin and flesh. The sound of ripping, it echoed in my ears. I grabbed Finn's hand.
"Darce?" The soft nickname pulled me back.
"I'm fine, just god, I almost wish I couldn't remember," I whispered. Chelsea's eyes were sad when I met her gaze.
"I won't take your memories from you again," she promised. "It's not something I like to do, or want to do, and I just felt like I didn't have a choice. I had to keep you safe."
That seemed to be a common theme with everyone. Keeping me safe. Me keeping Max safe.
“I’ve got to wonder how much less trouble we’d all be in if we were just honest with each other,” I said without thinking. Finn sighed.
“Sweetheart, you don’t know how grateful I am you haven’t just stormed out of here already.” His fingers traced a line up the inside of my arm. I wanted to be offended, really, but he was right. I’d had a habit of running. Chelsea brushed her hands over her knees and shifted her weight back and forth.
“I’m gonna—” She gestured to the open door. “I really should get back to the bus, check on Max.”
“We need to tell her, you need to give her the memories back,” I said. God, it was going to traumatize her all over again. I could practically smell her terror, the fear that radiated off of her in waves when that bastard had tried to slice her throat open. “Please don’t do it without me. Please. I’ve got to come clean to her, about everything.”
Chelsea gave me an odd look. My cheeks warmed.
“She knows I’m a witch,” I explained. Chelsea’s eyebrow floated up her forehead and she nodded, once. “She’s my best friend. I couldn’t not tell her.”
Chelsea held up her fingers to stop me from babbling further about it.
“I get it.” Her voice was soft. “I’m really sorry about everything.”
“Yeah.” I looked at Finn, hard. He swallowed again. His rumbling purr had died off a few minutes before. “Not as sorry as some people.”
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Chelsea said, getting out of there as fast as she could. She knew a relationship dispute brewing when she saw one.
“I’m not mad at you,” were the first words out of my mouth. “I’ve got a lot to say sorry for anyway, well, I haven’t always been. . .”
Finn pressed a gentle kiss to my lips when I hesitated.
“I’m not telling you to be quiet, sweetheart, ‘cause you know I’d never try and boss you around like that, but all I want to do is apologize, say I’m sorry over and over, and tell you that you don’t have a thing to feel bad about.” His blue eyes were shadowed, and he took a deep, breath of air. “When we found out that hunters nearly had you, I swear I just about. . .”
I closed my eyes. He had no idea how close it’d come. Just the memory of them, advancing on me and Max in this very tour van.
No, it wasn’t fair. This was the place I’d shared some amazing experiences with the band, my pack, my guys. Finn and me, on the back bed, together, t
he first time he’d made me his completely. I pushed away the shaky memory of hunters. They didn’t get to steal this little space from me and the pack.
This was our place.
The weight of what lay in front of us felt like it was dragging down my shoulders. Finn seemed to read it on me.
“Don’t worry, Darcy, we got it all figured out. We’ll be in that big tour rig of Glory Rev’s, soaking up the unicorn vibes, and with security around us all the time, nothing is gonna touch you.”
“Or you guys, right?” I asked. Finn gave me a crooked smile, one that chased away the bad memories (somewhat), and warmed me right into the depths of my stomach. My heart gave a painful-perfect squeeze.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d tangle with a hunter any day and win, but sometimes a man just likes to focus on his woman, his pack, and his music.” He winked, slow and easy. I rolled my eyes. He liked to play the simple guy, but deep underneath, I knew there was a furious storm of feelings, thoughts, and worries tumbling around in his heart.
“I’m still kinda pissed about everything,” I said. Because I was. A little bit. Finn shrugged one shoulder, uneasy.
“Things happened the way they did. We should have told you everything, right up front, but. . . we didn’t.” He reached up and twirled one of my long, loose curls around his finger. “I figure, you don’t forgive me by tonight, I’ll find a way to set it right.” There was a heat in his voice that had my fingers tingling, and my cheeks burning.
“You think you can distract me with sex?” My voice squeaked more than I’d like to admit. Finn laughed, pulling me in for a slow, heated kiss that melted me against him.
“I know I can,” he murmured, leaving a burning line of soft, small kisses along my jaw. I exhaled a shaking breath.
“You can’t fix everything with sex.”
“Y’right, I can’t. But I can try, and sometimes, it’s really just the thought and effort that counts.”
Nine
Darcy
I spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding my feelings over how and when to break the truth to Max and get Chelsea to un-glamour my best friend’s memories. Thankfully it was pretty easy to put it off since Max was napping, and the band had a meet ’n’ greet before the show. My major concerns were security, not freaking out over the fact that Chelsea and her band were unicorns, making sure that all the fans who’d won or purchased tickets to the meet ’n’ greet got their bags searched for weapons before actually getting to enter the venue, trying not to feel guilty over keeping secrets from Max, and checking we had enough merch set aside for the pre-show event.
That, and, y’know, avoiding Jake Tupper.
He was still pissed at me for messing with his plus-ones, and he’d made that clear when he’d stormed through the green room and glared at me the entire time while stuffing his mouth with deli meat. I’d never known that an attractive man could be so ugly when his mouth was stretched around a handful of prosciutto and his eyes narrowed in distaste, but Tupper had given me the gift of that knowledge. And honestly? His feelings on the matter were the least of my concerns. Troy hadn’t called again to yell at me, and Willa was emailing and texting me like nothing was wrong. I figured if the only one acting like a tired three-year-old was Jake, I wasn’t going to care.
Speaking of tired three-year-olds, the band’s Twitter was being lit up by a horde of angry, infantile tweets from dozens of different accounts.
“Charlie, who the heck are these girls on social media? What’s happening with that?” I stared at my phone, scrolling through message after obsessed, expletive-laced message. The green room was empty except for the band. It was a nicer room than I had gotten used to, engineered hardwood floor with fresh-painted white walls, not the normal dingy holes we were squished into. Low, leather couches were arranged into neat, comfortable sitting areas. I perched on the arm of one. Good thing it was just us, as the conversation was about to get personal, and messy.
“Uh, yeah. . .” Charlie looked shifty-eyed and I glared at him. He cleared his throat. “So we’re having this thing—”
“Cash was flirting with some of the fans,” Ace said as he polished his bass, the smooth cloth spreading a conditioning cream over the glittering, red surface. A flutter of motion in my chest clenched tight and I looked over at Cash. His back was to us as he went through his pre-show stretches, something he called ‘yoga for my hands’ or whatever. I hadn’t teased him about it because when Finn had mocked him, Finn had gotten punched in the face.
Not that I thought Cash would punch me in the face.
“You were flirting with fans?” I asked, willing to put my belief he wouldn’t feed me a knuckle sandwich to the test.
“I wasn’t flirting.” He turned, fingers wrapped around a pair of drumsticks that he was rolling between his palms. “I was being friendly. Courteous. You know, all the things that Eli isn’t on a good day.”
Elias made no noise from where he was reading a book, but flipped Cash the bird. Ace sighed and dipped his cleaning cloth back into the pot of conditioning cream, and began rubbing it over the neck of his bass.
“You buff that thing any harder, you’re going to scrape the finish right off,” Cash said, eyeing Ace.
“Seriously, what happened?” I demanded, because the non-answers were driving me crazy. Cash groaned.
“I was nice, alright? Some girl was complaining she couldn’t get tickets tonight and I offered her a backstage pass for her and her sister, because their house had burnt down.” Cash’s cheeks were hinting on pink under the shadow of his stubble and he rolled up onto his knees, standing.
“So? That seems nice.” I blinked at Charlie and he looked skyward.
“It was nice. Problem is, the girl and her sister, they’re kinda liars, I guess, because some other local fans called them out that their house had never burnt down, and Cash tried to ask everyone to calm down, and now the girl is getting death threats and is being called a slut, and a skank and a—”
“Ahem,” Ace interrupted Charlie. “I think we get the point and I will remind you that we’ve got a lady present.” His eyes flicked to me and I had to smile.
“Our girl can swear like a sailor when she has a mind to.” Finn had snuck up on me, his arms wrapping around me from behind. I melted into his warmth, but wanted to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “You hungry, sweetheart?” He offered me a plate with a selection of meats, cheeses, and crackers. My stomach rumbled. Abject terror and distressing heartbreak was really awesome for working up an appetite. He pressed a kiss to the side of my cheek.
“Anyway, what’s happening? We need to stop engaging with these girls if they’re going to go kinda crazy just because someone got backstage tickets.” I frowned down at my screen, my thumb pausing as a tweet popped up that I hadn’t seen before. A tweet from the band’s official account. There was a photo of me, laughing in the back of the van. I remembered that moment. Ace and Charlie had been having a contest to see who could make M&Ms last longer on their tongues, and Cash had just stolen the bag of chocolate candy from them, mowing down the whole thing. It was a good photo, my curls actually looking neat and not like a deranged poodle for once. It wasn’t the picture that had upended everything, but the words along with it. My mouth froze against the roof of my mouth and breathing suddenly became more difficult.
@PhoenixcryOfficial Gotta say that no girl has ever made me feel like this one. - F #shestheone #neversaynever #seriousbsns
“Um, what’s this?” I twisted to look at Finn, where he stood towering over me. His hands had wandered up my arms to my shoulders, the thick line of his thumbs digging into the stiff muscles of my neck.
“Uh. . .” He glanced away. I could sense the other guys watching us. Ace had put down the cleaning cloth, Cash his drumsticks. Charlie’s fingers were still on his phone. Only Eli relaxed back, flipping through his book.
“Finn?” My heart was rapidly beating in my chest. He avoided my gaze, his hands dropping from my neck.
“I had to,” he said, although he sounded like I was prying each word from him. “Maybe it’s hard to hide how I feel for you, how we feel for you. Sometimes it drives me crazy, not being able to talk about how much I love you.”
“Y’hear that? That’s the sound of his shovel hitting rock,” Charlie’s low murmur to Ace carried to me. I pushed the peanut gallery comment aside.
“You can’t.” I swallowed to sort through my feelings. “Finn, you can’t say stuff like this on the band Twitter.” Finn’s eyes blazed when he finally met my gaze again.
“Why not?” His tone was demanding, defiance in his expression. “You’re risking your life, being with us. Life’s short when you’re a wolf, shorter than it should be nowadays. I’m done hiding, and our fans, our real fans, are gonna still love us even if I’m taken.” He crossed his arms over his chest. My mouth opened to protest. He was being so unreasonable, not like his normal relaxed Finn-ish self.
“But—”
Finn shook his head, hard, and reached down to run his fingers along the side of my face, tucking one of my errant curls behind my ear.
“You don’t see yourself like I see you, like we see you. Every venue we go to, the stage manager, the crew, they discount you like you’re nothing, and—”
“And you thought that if you announced to the world I was your girlfriend that I’d suddenly get a heap of respect?” My gut churned, my brain incredulous. Was he stupid? He wasn’t stupid, Finn had shown me time and time again the depths of his patience, his slow wisdom. And even if he played a sexy rock ’n’ roll guy, he definitely was smarter than most of the men I’d run into in the music scene. Maybe he wasn’t cultured like the witches I’d known, but Finn had sense, usually.
“Maybe not, maybe it’ll make them think you’re just along ‘cause—”
“That I’m just on tour because I’m your sex muppet?”
“Would you stop damn well interrupting me?” Finn snapped, and the room’s temperature dropped a few degrees. Eli’s head snapped up from his book, and Charlie whistled under his breath and yelped when Ace smacked him upside the head. Cash sighed.