Chapter 4: The Lodge
The Lodge’s heavy oak door groaned shut behind them, muffling the world outside but doing nothing for the thick, smoky tension within. Pine resin and the faint metallic tang of old magic hung in the air. Stuffed animal heads watched from the log walls with glassy indifference. Only a handful of figures occupied the sprawling main room. Bethany leaned against the massive stone hearth, arms crossed, her charcoal suit a stark slash of formality against the rustic backdrop. Aaron Sweeney, looking strained in his neat, practical clothes, paced near a rack of dusty antlers. Near the bar, a diaphanous figure shimmered – Lady Eleanor, her Victorian gown trailing spectral wisps, observing with avid, ghostly interest. Katie "Boom Boom" Manelli practically vibrated near the entrance, her black lace dress stark against the wood tones. And Vivian Chace stood slightly apart, radiating a nervous energy that crackled beneath her stillness.
Jan scanned the room, Godfrey’s solid flank pressed against her leg. "This is it?" The disappointment was sharp, bitter in her throat. "Fatima is out of town at the Sylvan Retreat out in Oregon. Is Annie also still out there?"
"Yes," Aaron said tersely, stopping his pacing. "But the other Orders are either hiding or compromised."
Bethany pushed off the hearth. "Golden Wands are running damage control city-wide. We’re hemorrhaging resources. This," she gestured around the near-empty lodge, "is what we’ve got. And bad news, Jan: my people checked your place. Looks like they got your mom and Rebecca too."
Katie bounced on the balls of her boots. "But we have you, Jan! The Red Tornado! And Boom Boom!" She punched a small fist into her palm, making a tiny pop of displaced air. "We’ll blow ‘em sky high!"
Vivian cleared her throat softly. She looked painfully young and uncertain, a stark contrast to her inherent, almost supernatural allure. "And… me. I drain people. Sexually." She winced. "It’s not ideal. But I can help… feed power?"
Jan felt the familiar, frantic energy bubbling up again – fear for her mom, Rebecca, Mike, Casey, the sheer fucking scale of what they were facing with so little. Her magic prickled under her skin, hungry and volatile. "We need more juice," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Now."
Katie’s eyes lit up, fixing on Vivian. "We could… you know… share? A triple charge? Boom Boom’s power source gets… kinetic with friction." A blush crept up her neck, clashing with her Goth pallor. Vivian’s eyes widened, a flicker of predatory hunger quickly masked by nervousness. "Oh! I… I could certainly… facilitate that. I need to feed too. Carefully. Very carefully."
Jan felt the suggestion land like a spark on tinder. The desperate need, the thrumming power within her, the sheer recklessness of the situation – it coalesced into a single, urgent imperative. "Fuck it. Yes. Now. Where?"
"Storage room," Bethany cut in, pragmatic as ever, pointing a thumb towards a heavy wooden door near the back. "Lockable. Mostly soundproof. Go. Charge up. We’ll plan." Her gaze flickered towards Aaron. "Sweeney, we need maps. Eleanor, any spectral gossip about Consortium movements?"
Lady Eleanor clapped her translucent hands. "Oh, splendid! Do carry on! The energy! The vitality of it! I shall observe and apprise!" She drifted closer to the storage room door, her form shimmering.
Jan didn’t hesitate. She strode towards the door, Godfrey following like a shaggy shadow until she turned at the threshold. "Stay, boy. Guard." He whined softly but settled onto his haunches, his watchful eyes scanning the main room, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos. Jan pushed the storage room door open. It was small, crowded with sacks of grain, dusty crates, and the smell of old burlap. Katie and Vivian crowded in after her.
The door clicked shut, plunging them into near-darkness broken only by a sliver of light under the door. The air felt instantly charged. Katie’s breath hitched. Vivian’s nervous energy seemed to sharpen, turning potent. Jan could feel Vivian’s succubus pull even without active effort – a low thrum that resonated with the restless magic inside her. Katie practically radiated untamed, explosive potential, like a lit fuse.
"No time," Jan breathed, already reaching for the clasp of her jeans. "Get each other ready."
Katie’s hands were surprisingly deft, fumbling only slightly as she pulled Vivian’s simple top over her head. Vivian gasped, her pale skin luminous in the gloom, full breasts bouncing free. "Oh! Okay, yes…" Katie’s own black dress pooled at her feet, revealing a surprisingly practical black bra and panties which she tore off in seconds. She was slight, almost delicate, but electric with pent-up energy.
Jan shoved her jeans and underwear down, kicking them aside. Her cunt was already slick, the desperate urgency translating instantly into arousal. "Viv, taste her." Her voice was a low command.
Vivian needed no more prompting. Hunger overcame hesitation. She dropped to her knees before Katie, her hands gripping Katie’s slim hips, and buried her face between the younger woman’s thighs. A high, startled gasp tore from Katie’s lips as Vivian’s tongue, skilled and demanding, licked a hot stripe through her dark curls. "Fuck! Oh god, Vivian!" Katie’s hands flew to Vivian’s fiery red hair, tangling in it, not pushing away but holding on as Vivian feasted. Wet, sucking sounds filled the small space.
Jan watched, her own hand sliding between her legs, fingers plunging into her wet heat. She pumped them hard, fucking herself to the rhythm of Vivian’s tongue on Katie’s cunt, the raw energy crackling. She could feel it building – Vivian’s succubus hunger pulling Katie’s mounting orgasm, Katie’s explosive magic amplifying the sexual energy, feeding Vivian, feeding the very air. And Jan, the conduit, the amplifier, her own power soaking it all up like a sponge, growing heavier, hotter.
"More," Jan growled, stepping closer. "Vivian, make her scream."
Vivian moaned against Katie’s flesh, the sound vibrating through Katie’s core. Her tongue flickered faster, probing deeper. She slid two fingers inside Katie, curling them upward. Katie arched back, slamming her head against a sack of grain, a ragged cry escaping her. "Yes! Fuck! Right there! Make me come! Boom!" Her hips jerked wildly against Vivian’s face.
Jan reached down, grabbing a handful of Vivian’s hair, pulling her head back just enough to expose her own glistening cunt. "My turn, succubus. Lick me while you fuck her. Now."
Vivian’s eyes, wide and dark with primal need, locked onto Jan’s. Without breaking her rhythm with Katie, Vivian craned her neck, her tongue extending impossibly long, serpent-like, to lap fiercely at Jan’s swollen clit. The dual sensation – Vivian’s tongue on her clit, the vibration of her moans against Katie’s pussy, the sight of Katie writhing – sent a jolt of pure lightning up Jan’s spine. "Oh, FUCK!" Jan hissed, her fingers digging into Vivian’s scalp as she ground her pussy down onto the relentless tongue.
Katie’s breath came in frantic gasps. "She’s… she’s sucking the magic right outta me! I’m gonna blow! Jan!" Her voice scaled higher. Vivian’s fingers worked faster inside her, her mouth sealed tight over Jan’s clit now, sucking hard. The energy in the room swelled to a fever pitch. Jan could see it almost – a visible shimmer in the air, a kaleidoscope of heat and raw power swirling between them.
Jan felt her climax building, a monstrous wave triggered by Vivian’s ravenous mouth and the shared, amplified frenzy. Katie’s cries became incoherent shouts. "Boom! Boom! BOOOOM!" With a final, shuddering thrust against Vivian’s face, Katie screamed, her body rigid. A visible pulse of raw, pinkish energy cracked from her core, washing over Vivian. Vivian gasped, the influx making her shudder violently, her eyes rolling back slightly as she fed, her tongue on Jan becoming impossibly more intense.
The wave hit Jan. Her vision whited out. She came hard, violently, her thighs clamping around Vivian’s head as a guttural roar tore from her throat. Power surged through her, not just her own orgasm but the amplified energy siphoned from Katie, refined through Vivian’s succubus nature, flooding her system. It was blinding, overwhelming, a supernova detonating inside her. She saw Mike’s terrified face, Casey’s defiant glare, her mother’s icy fury… all fueling the inferno.
The wave passed, leaving them panting in the sudden, ringing silence. Katie slumped against the sacks, trembling. Vivian slowly withdrew her tongue and fingers, licking her lips, her eyes wide with sated shock. Energy still hummed around her, a satisfied glow. Jan stumbled back, leaning against the rough wood of a crate, her legs shaky, sweat cooling on her skin. She felt… immense. Crackling. Like a live wire dipped in molten lava. The Red Tornado was a hurricane now.
The raw energy pulsed beneath Jan’s skin like live current, a storm contained within flesh. Sweat cooled on her flushed body, the scent of sex and spent magic thick in the storage room’s dusty air. Katie trembled against a burlap sack, a dazed smile playing on her lips, while Vivian licked her own fingers clean, a low hum of satisfaction vibrating in her throat, the glow around her demonic heritage momentarily brighter. Power, dense and volatile, crackled around Jan, making the air itself feel heavy, charged. The Red Tornado wasn't just back; she was a fucking force of nature.
A slow, spectral clapping echoed in the confined space. Lady Eleanor shimmered into view near the ceiling, her Victorian skirts drifting. "Oh, brava!" she chimed, her voice echoing faintly. "Such vigor! Such abandon! It quite takes one back, you know. To observe such primal energies... truly invigorating." Her translucent eyes gleamed with vicarious hunger. "If only I could still indulge properly myself without resorting to possessing some hapless soul. Takes the spontaneity out of it, wouldn't you say? A shame, a terrible shame."
Jan was about to retort, maybe ask if the ghost got off on voyeurism, when a sharp, urgent bark sliced through the lodge – Godfrey. Another bark, deeper, more insistent, followed by a snarl. Alarm shot through Jan, instantly overriding the post-orgasmic haze. "Shit! Godfrey!" She shoved away from the crate, grabbing only her discarded t-shirt as she lunged for the door, not bothering with anything else.
Katie scrambled up, forgetting her nudity entirely, eyes wide. "The Consortium?" Vivian snatched her top but only managed to hold it crumpled in one hand as she followed Jan, her succubus senses flaring. They burst out of the storage room into the main lodge’s smoky light. Chaos reigned. Bethany and Aaron were crouched behind the massive overturned oak table near the hearth, splinters flying as bullets ripped into the wood. Godfrey stood near the shattered front door, teeth bared, fur bristling, facing the invaders.
A dozen figures in sleek, dark tactical armor poured through the ruined entrance and the large windows flanking the stone fireplace, efficient and silent except for the crunch of glass under their boots. The lead agent, helmet visor raised revealing hard eyes, scanned the room. "Secure the area! Subdue all hostiles!" His gaze locked onto Jan, emerging half-dressed and crackling with visible green-tinged power. He stiffened, eyes widening almost comically. "Fuck! The Red Tornado is primary! Weapons free! Fire at will!"
"About fucking time!" Katie shrieked, pure, unadulterated glee in her voice. She didn't hesitate. Pink sparks flared around her clenched fists. She hurled a compact ball of shimmering force at the nearest cluster of soldiers. It detonated mid-air with a concussive WHUMP, throwing three armored figures backwards like rag dolls. "Boom, motherfuckers! Hah!" She immediately conjured another, cackling madly.
Vivian hissed, a sound not entirely human. Her form seemed to ripple, shadows deepening around her, eyes glowing a faint crimson, sharp points hinting at her teeth. The air near her grew cold, smelling faintly of sulfur. She started to raise a clawed hand towards a soldier sighting down his rifle at Bethany. Then she saw it. A stray blast from Katie, aimed at another soldier, clipped Lady Eleanor’s shimmering form as the ghost drifted too close. The spectral woman cried out, a sound like tearing silk, her image flickering violently, a part of her gown dissolving into swirling mist. Vivian froze, the demonic edge receding instantly, replaced by horrified guilt. "Eleanor! Shit! Sorry!" Her power coiled back, contained.
Bethany, cool as ice behind the table, drew a sleek, compact pistol that hummed with contained energy. She snapped off precise shots, not at the soldiers, but at their weapons, the energy bolts causing rifles to spark and sputter in their grasp. "Aaron, flank!" she ordered, her voice clipped.
Aaron was already moving, a blur of practiced dodges. A faint golden nimbus surrounded him as he ducked a wild burst of gunfire. He touched a soldier lunging at him with a stun baton. Instantly, the soldier's movements became clumsy, uncoordinated, mirroring Aaron’s own economical grace as Aaron effortlessly disarmed him and landed a sharp jab to the throat. "Fair's fair," Aaron muttered, already turning to the next threat, his magic constantly rebalancing the scales against each opponent.
Jan didn’t think. She acted. The immense power inside her, freshly charged, demanded release. She ripped her t-shirt over her head, flinging it aside, standing completely bare-breasted in the center of the chaos. She flung her arms wide, a wave of emerald-green energy radiating from her core, washing over a squad of five soldiers who had just breached the window near the bar. It wasn't pain. It was pure, unadulterated, overwhelming need.
The Green Moon power of Exposure hit them like a physical blow. Helmets clattered to the floor as hands, suddenly clumsy with desperate lust, fumbled at armor clasps. "Fuck! What is this?!" one woman gasped, already clawing at the codpiece of the man next to her. "No! Stop!" another man choked out, even as he grabbed her hips, grinding against her. "Can't... help it... need..." Within seconds, their tactical discipline dissolved. Two soldiers were frantically kissing, tongues battling, hands groping. Another pair hit the floor, the woman riding the man’s face while he tore at her undersuit. The fifth soldier simply stood, hand shoved down his own pants, moaning as he frantically jerked himself off, eyes glazed. The lodge filled with the sounds of frantic grunting, wet sucking, and choked moans of unwilling pleasure.
The lead agent stared, aghast, at the tableau of his elite unit reduced to rutting animals. "God damn it! Fall back! Regroup! Focus fire on O'Con—" His order died in a guttural yell as ninety pounds of furious Bernese Mountain Dog hit him squarely in the chest. Godfrey slammed him to the hardwood floor, powerful jaws closing inches from the man's face with a loud, wet snap, a deep, continuous growl vibrating against the man’s armor. The agent went still, eyes wide with primal fear. The dog pinned him, a furry, immovable weight radiating protective fury.
It was over quickly after that. Katie's pinpoint explosions took out stragglers trying to retreat. Bethany efficiently stunned the last few conscious fighters. Aaron subdued the ones still grappling with the after-effects of Jan’s power. Vivian knelt beside Lady Eleanor’s flickering form, murmuring apologies, pouring faint wisps of stabilizing energy she couldn't really spare towards the ghost. The lodge fell silent except for the groans of the incapacitated soldiers, the crackle of the fireplace, and the heavy panting of the defenders.
Aaron straightened his jacket, a grim expression on his face as he surveyed the wrecked lodge – shattered windows, bullet-riddled furniture, the overturned table, the moaning pile of entangled soldiers. "Bastards," he spat, kicking a discarded rifle aside. "Total disregard for the Lodge’s neutrality. This is beyond a breach; it’s a declaration of war." He knelt beside one of the soldiers Jan had enthralled, who was now sobbing weakly as he tried to pull his pants up. Aaron placed his hand on the man's forehead, his brow furrowed in concentration, the golden nimbus flickering around his fingers as he probed. His frown deepened. He moved to another soldier, then another, performing the same quick assessment.
Bethany joined him, her own senses extended. "Aaron?" Her voice held a sharp edge of confusion. Vivian looked up from Eleanor, her succubus senses flaring out, touching the downed attackers. Even Katie paused her gleeful inspection of a scorched wall, her explosive magic momentarily dormant, sensing the others' disquiet.
"They’re… blank," Aaron said, his voice low with disbelief. He stood up, looking at Jan, Bethany, Vivian. "No magical signature. None. Not even a latent trace. These people… they don’t possess magic. They aren’t using it." He gestured at the sophisticated armor, the advanced, non-magical weaponry Bethany had disrupted. "They’re completely mundane."
A cold shock settled over the room, colder than the winter air whistling through the broken windows. Who attacks a gathering of powerful magical Orders with non-magical troops? Who even knew to attack here, now? The implications were terrifying. This wasn't just the Consortium; this was something else, something operating outside the known rules.
Jan moved among the groaning soldiers, her bare feet avoiding broken glass, the immense power inside her now a cold knot of dread. Godfrey stayed pressed against her leg. Near the lead agent Godfrey had pinned, something white caught her eye. Half-tucked under his armored collar, partially ripped during the struggle. A business card. She knelt, ignoring the agent’s terrified flinch as Godfrey rumbled, and plucked it free.
The card was expensive stock. Embossed lettering. James Murphy, AIA. Principal Architect. Murphy & Shaw Design Collaborative. A phone number. An address downtown she vaguely recognized. Ice flooded Jan’s veins, colder than any fear. James Murphy. The arrogant prick. The architect who, along with his equally awful wife, had cornered Rebecca outside the school auditorium after the winter concert rehearsal. Demanding to know why their precious snowflake didn't have a solo, yelling about 'investments' and 'entitlements', reducing Rebecca to tears. Jan had 'taught them a lesson'. A very specific, very private lesson involving the sudden, overwhelming urge to publicly fuck each other senseless right there in the principal's parking lot. It had been messy. Humiliating for them. Satisfying for Jan. It wasn't even the first time Jan had done that to these people.
He wasn't magical. Just a rich asshole with an inflated sense of importance. But his card was here, on the leader of a squad that attacked a neutral magical sanctuary using non-magical troops. Looking for her. A lead. Their first real, tangible lead. Jan crushed the card in her fist, the name burning like acid. "Murphy," she whispered, the word dropping into the sudden silence like a stone. The hurricane inside her focused into a single, deadly point.