Witch In Charge - Celia Kyle Page 0,44

asking for your contact info? Like, wanting to pay you.”

“Really?” Ryan’s eyes went round. “You mean it?”

“I sure do. Everyone wants you to play for them.”

“I hope it pans out,” he said with a smirk. “They might change their minds once they sober up.”

“Give yourself some credit.” She finished her punch in one big gulp. “They have good reason to love you.”

“If you say so.”

Even though he was agreeing with her, she sensed a deeper emotion in him, like he wasn’t just talking about his music. She was about to dig deeper when she glanced toward the door—like she had been doing all night, looking for Ronun—and saw Aurora meeting a group of guys. They all looked dark, brooding and dangerous. Maybe even kind of vicious.

Thinking that Aurora might need help with party crashers, she patted Ryan on the arm and told him she’d be right back, hurrying to the front door. The four guys had formed a ring around Aurora and were pushing her through the foyer, so Kelly worked a bit of magic to clear the area and storm into the group with the firm idea she was about to stop some kind of assault.

“What the hell's going on here?” she snapped, letting her magic enhance her voice, just a little.

The house creaked a bit, offering back up. She crossed her arms and stuck out her chin, standing defensively by her friend, who was the picture of innocence in her white sheath dress.

“Kelly,” Aurora said softly. “I'd like you to meet my brothers.”

“Brothers?” Kelly exclaimed, looking them over.

The tallest was also the thinnest, with long black hair and very dark brown eyes. He didn’t need any help looking scary. The big, flowing trench coat, leather pants, and heavy boots gave him the appearance of a serial killer.

“Rhys,” he said, stepping forward to shake her hand. His fingers were very slender, and cold. Ice cold.

Kelly smiled uncertainly. “Nice to meet you.”

He grinned devilishly at her hesitant tone as if he knew damn well she hadn’t made up her mind about him yet.

“Will you knock it off, Rhys,” Aurora muttered. “Don’t go all Lord of Death on me now.”

“When you meet another necromancer who can revive a three-hundred-year-old corpse without any zombification or mummy effects, I’ll drop the title.” He tilted his aristocratic nose upward as though the forces of darkness were watching him for signs of weakness.

“Your ego will be the death of you, bro.”

A slightly shorter version of Rhys with light brown hair and eyes stepped forward, reaching for Kelly’s hand.

“I’d just bring myself back,” Rhys muttered. The rest of the Rhonelle siblings ignored him.

“I’m Duval, the sort-of middle child.”

“Sort of?”

“Rhys is the eldest.” Duval put a hand on his chest and shook his head. “God help us all. I should be the eldest, but second in command is where I’m stuck. These riff-raff—” he gestured at the two younger boys. “—are the younger ones.”

“I’m Lock.” Another black-haired necromancer stepped forward, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t dabble so much in graveyards. You look at these two, you’d think it was the thirteenth century!”

Kelly held in a snicker. Rhys was dressed like a vampire from the late 1880s. Duval actually wore a suit with a cape—a cape! It would have only made sense at a costume party.

Lock wore greyish jeans, a tight black sleeveless shirt that showed off his impressive guns, and a bit of heavy silver jewelry. He was punk goth but at least it was modern punk goth.

“The other middle.”

The last remaining brother bowed. His hair was black, so black it didn’t even reflect light. His blue eyes did though—they looked like crystals with candles behind them. Kelly felt like he was looking right through her.

“I’m Onyx,” he said, and Kelly couldn't quite tell if his smile was friendly or deadly. “I’m closest in age to Aurora. We were always together growing up.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kelly said, then thought, Friendly. Phew!

Kelly had met so many people at the party, she ran through their names in her head so she could remember them. After all, these were her roommate's siblings—it was only polite to not forget them.

Rhys is the semi-modern goth. Duval is the Dark Ages goth. Lock is the postmodern goth and Onyx just doesn’t give a shit.

He was dressed darkly, in keeping with his status as a necromancer, but with very little flair. Kelly had always found guys who didn’t have a fashion sense super cute. She could dress them up like full-size