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As soon as Hardin leaves my room, I scoop up my cropped slouchy sweatshirt and tug it on, already following him. I pause at the top of the stairs, taking in the four men standing around the still closed front door.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Ezra mutters, staring at the screen of the security system. “And how the hell did he get through our protections?”
The doorbell rings again. And again, while they just keep staring.
I clear my throat. “Are you going to answer it?”
Four pairs of eyes turn to me sharply as I descend the stairs. I only make it about three steps before I come up against an immovable force, stopping me from moving farther.Fielder.I lick my lips nervously and meet his green gaze. “Is it your father?”
On the front stoop, Cohen switches from ringing the doorbell to pounding on the door itself. “I know you’re in there!” He calls, his voice all kinds of mocking.
My gaze moves from Fielder to the slab of wood. “Cohen?”
God, I feel like such an asshole, standing here pretending I don’t already know who’s here, why he’s here. But they must all buy it because they look away from me, back to the door, Gideon curses and wrenches it open, and there he is in all his glory, dressed exactly as he had been in my bedroom, the same jeans still hugging his thick thighs, my cum darkening the denim just like he’d promised.
“What the hell are you doing here, Faulkner?” Gideon snarls at him.
Cohen doesn’t seem at all phased, and I know he’s not. No, he’s cocky as fuck as he gives a grin, his icy green eyes sweeping over first the four men standing in front of him, and then up to me. “Hello, boys. I’m here to join Rosalind’s harem.”
My eyes slip closed as they all bristle. My cheeks go red. He did not just say that. He didn’t just come out and say that, did he? I’m in a nightmare, some kind of horrible nightmare that I’ll wake up from.
Wake up, Rosalind Juliet.
There’s a whooshing sound that makes my eyes fly open as fire erupts in Hardin’s hands. “What the fuck did you just say?” he spits.
Cohen laughs, unconcerned. And I can see why. I find him holding his hands up in front of him, a swirl of fire between him and Hardin. I don’t know if Hardin threw that at him, and he’s keeping it at bay or if he’s answering Hardin’s fire with some of his own. Matching aggression with aggression.
“What the fuck?” Ezra sounds so damn surprised. Fielder, meanwhile, is silent, watching everything.
His green gaze flicks up to me and I try to arrange my face into something that resembles surprise and shock, but I know I’m too slow. He sees that I already knew Cohen is a witch. He sees that I’m not surprised to find him here.
His lips thin out, disappointment flickers over his face and something in me crumbles. Tears prick my eyes as I shake my head. The fire in Cohen’s hands fizzles. “Wildcard,” he breathes, trying to pull my attention to him. But my gaze stays directly on Fielder, waiting for what he’ll do. As much as they like to pretend that they’re all equals, more often than not, they follow his lead.
He’s obviously still working through this situation, figuring things out on his own.
Cohen shakes his head, holding his hands up in a bid for peace. He’s doing that for me. I know he is. “Look, I’m not here to cause trouble.”Lies.“I know what you are, obviously. Good job on hiding your secret, by the way.” This he says pointedly to Hardin, who threwfireat him. The Brit doesn’t even look chagrined about it. “I know what Ro is. I happen to be one too.”
Gideon glares at him, while Fielder keeps his eyes on me. “What coven do you belong to?”
Cohen scoffs. “I don’t. Covens are limiting and a waste of time. I’m self taught. I do all of my castings alone, mostly. Which is why I’m here. Rosalind needs someone who isn’t hampered by coven rules and who only has experience in solo casting.”
I stand there, watching all of them. Trying to get a read on the situation. And then finally, Fielder opens his mouth, his green eyes still on me. “You’re the one that attacked Sweeney and Merritt in the woods. You kept her from telling us about you.”
Confirmation flickers over my face and he spins on his heel, strides right up to Cohen, and hits him square in the jaw. Cohen goes flying back. He’d been prepared for a magic attack, not a physical one.
Fielder follows. Cohen stumbles over something, probably a wisp of air, or maybe Ezra pulled the ground to make him trip, and he splays out on his back. Fielder is on him in an instant, fist flashing as he hits Cohen again and again.
The field in front of me eases, disappears, and I’m able to run down the stairs and out the front door. “Stop! Fielder! Jesus christ. Just stop!” I shout, but neither of them pay me any mind, as Cohen bucks, and throws Fielder to the side, landing on top of him, and returning the blows, while the blond boy tries to get his hands up to protect his face.
“Please,” I say, moving forward to pull Cohen off him.
Strong hands pull me back. The scent of rain and mint and clean laundry reaches my nose, while Ezra holds me against his chest. “Don’t, Ro.”
“He deserves this for attacking you,” Gideon growls out, his hands clenched at his sides like he wishes he was the one on the ground, beating the crap out of Cohen. They probably all do. But what they don’t realize is that Cohen is goingeasyon Fielder.
I’ve seen how quickly he can cast. He placed a protection spell on me with a single kiss on my forehead while the four of them chanted for two hours to do it.
If Cohen decides he’s had enough, he may very well kill Fielder, and there is no way in hell I’ll let that happen.
