Chapter 28: Godfrey's Embarrassment and the Ride Home
The nurse had just finished adjusting her scrubs—a satisfied little smile playing at the corner of her mouth that she didn't bother to hide—when Jan swung her legs over the side of the bed and started pulling on her clothes.
Her thighs were still slick. Her cunt still throbbed with the aftershocks of two orgasms, one from the nurse's surprisingly talented tongue and one from the orderly's thick fingers. She could feel the wetness cooling against her skin as she reached for her panties, and she grinned at the sensation.
Godfrey whined from the foot of the bed, his paws still pressed firmly over his eyes.
"You've seen worse, buddy," Jan said, stepping into her underwear and pulling them up. The cotton was damp immediately. She'd need to change again before they hit the road.
The nurse—her name tag read KATIE, and she had dimples that made her look younger than she probably was—finished straightening her scrub top and turned to Jan with a professional smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Your discharge papers are ready. The doctor will sign off in about ten minutes."
"Great." Jan grabbed her jeans from the chair and started pulling them on. The denim scraped against her still-sensitive skin, and she hissed through her teeth. "Ten minutes. Plenty of time."
She reached for her phone, checking the messages. Mandy had sent a flurry of texts in the last hour, each one more cryptic than the last.
Got a plan. Working out logistics.
Need to know if Aunt Jan is mobile.
Also, Uncle Cameron is scary when he's worried. Tell him to stop texting me every five minutes.
Jan snorted and typed back: On my way. Save some of the fun for me.
Cameron appeared in the doorway, his blue eyes scanning her with the practiced assessment of a man who had spent decades worrying about her. He was still in his jeans and flannel shirt, his black hair disheveled, his jaw tight.
"You're supposed to wait for the doctor," he said.
"I'm supposed to do a lot of things." Jan grabbed her cane from where it had fallen beside the bed and planted it on the floor. "I'm discharging myself. You can sign the papers."
Cameron's jaw tightened further, but he didn't argue. He knew better. After twenty years of booty calls and six months of actually living together, he had learned which battles were worth fighting.
This wasn't one of them.
Stacy appeared behind him, her silver-streaked dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, her phone in one hand and a manila folder in the other. Rick hovered behind her, his dark hair mussed, his blue eyes darting between Jan and the nurse with the awkwardness of a man who had just watched his honorary aunt get eaten out and didn't know where to look.
"I have the update," Stacy said, stepping into the room.
"Give it to me while I walk." Jan grabbed her jacket and headed for the door, Godfrey scrambling off the bed to trot at her heels. Her leg ached where the bullet had torn through muscle, but the healing tech had done its work. She could walk. She could fight. That was all that mattered.
Stacy fell into step beside her, reading from her phone. "Inez Murphy kidnapped Mike, Casey, Amy, Jason, Mara, and Katrina approximately six hours ago. She used Jason as a sleeper agent—some kind of brainwashing triggered by a fountain pen that was planted in their house months ago. He froze everyone long enough for Inez's people to grab them."
Jan's jaw tightened.
"Portia confirmed the location. They're being held in a basement in a suburb outside Chicago. Anti-magic wards, Consortium tech, the whole package. Portia can't extract them, but she's been able to deliver supplies—a space heater, a box cutter, some blankets."
"Good girl," Jan muttered.
"There's more." Stacy scrolled down. "Inez posted an explicit photo of the captives—naked, mid-sex, the kind of thing that would have destroyed anyone else's reputation. But Amy's fanbase turned it into a celebration. Mara's colleagues are making memes. Katrina's been offered a modeling contract."
Jan stopped walking.
She turned to stare at Stacy, her green eyes wide.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
"Amy Bryant—the woman who wrote that fantasy novel about the elf prince and the human blacksmith—"
"The same one."
"And her fans—"
"Are calling her a MILF goddess and demanding a sequel series based on her real-life adventures."
Jan blinked.
Then she laughed. It was a loud, unapologetic sound that echoed down the sterile hallway and made a passing orderly jump.
"This is too chaotic even for one of my adventures," she said, resuming her walk toward the elevator. "Who told Mike and Casey to run the mission?"
Cameron, Stacy, and Rick all stared at her.
"You did, Jan," Cameron said slowly. "It was your idea."
Jan blinked again.
Then she grinned.
"Oh yeah."
The elevator doors opened. Jan stepped inside, Godfrey at her heels, and punched the button for the parking garage.
"Tell me the rest," she said.
Stacy continued as the elevator descended. "Mara filed a ten-million-dollar lawsuit against Inez. Revenge porn, invasion of privacy, emotional distress. Zack served the papers personally. Inez slapped him."
"Zack? Mara's Zack?"
"The same. He didn't press charges, but the assault is on the record."
Jan's grin widened. "That's my girl."
"Mandy's in Miami organizing something. She won't tell me what, but Portia says it's going to be fun for the good guys. Jess and Ben are with her, along with Kim, Maryam, and Shiv. Bruce and Marty are on standby. Rebecca, Charley, and Yukio are in the city, ready to move."
The elevator doors opened onto the parking garage. Cameron's truck was parked in the corner, a big black pickup that had seen better days but still ran like a dream.
"What about the kids?" Jan asked. "Cody, Amanda, Jenny?"
"With Cody's grandfather Elias. They're safe."
Jan nodded, climbing into the passenger seat of the truck. Godfrey jumped into her lap, curling into a tight ball, his eyes fixed on her face with an intensity that belied his small size.
Cameron climbed into the driver's seat. Stacy and Rick got in the back.
Jan pulled out her phone and started texting Mandy, her fingers flying across the screen.
We're coming. Tell the kids to save some of the fun for me.
She hit send and leaned back in her seat as Cameron pulled out of the garage.
"You just had two people go down on you," Stacy said from the back seat. "You're supposed to be recovering."
Jan turned to look at her over her shoulder.
"That was physical therapy," she said. "This is war."
Stacy snorted.
Rick, still looking vaguely traumatized, stared out the window.
Cameron reached over and squeezed Jan's knee.
"You're insane," he said.
"You love it."
"I do."
He pulled onto the highway, heading south toward Chicago. The city skyline glittered in the distance, steel and glass and the faint shimmer of magical wards that had become part of the landscape over the past twenty years.
Jan's phone buzzed.
Mandy's response: Bring snacks. This is going to take a while.
Jan typed back: I'm bringing myself. That's the only snack anyone needs.
Mandy replied with a single middle finger emoji.
Jan laughed and put her phone away.
The truck hummed along the highway, the city growing closer with every mile. Godfrey slept in Jan's lap, his small body warm and solid against her thighs. Cameron drove with one hand on the wheel, his other resting on the gear shift, his expression focused.
Stacy and Rick murmured to each other in the back seat, their voices low and intimate, the kind of quiet conversation that came from years of knowing each other's secrets.
Jan closed her eyes.
She thought about Mike and Casey, naked in a cold basement, making jokes and annoying their captor. She thought about Amy's fans turning a humiliation into a celebration. She thought about Mara's lawsuit, filed from a basement cell, serving notice that the Williamson family and their friends would not be broken.
She thought about Mandy, organizing something in Miami, her sharp mind already three steps ahead of everyone else.
She thought about Rachel, still lost, stuck between a mother who expected what she could not deliver and and life she deserved.
And she thought about Inez Murphy, sitting in her house, watching her plan fall apart, her face going paler with every notification, her hands shaking as she realized she had made the worst mistake of her life.
Jan opened her eyes and smiled.
The fun was just beginning.
The truck pulled into the driveway of Judy's beach house just after midnight, the ocean breeze carrying salt and the distant rumble of waves against the shore. The house blazed with light—every window glowing, shadows moving behind the curtains like a small army preparing for battle. Kim Powers stood on the front porch, her curved sword strapped to her back, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her hazel eyes sharp and watchful.
Maryam leaned against the railing beside her sister, a Louisville Slugger resting on her shoulder like it belonged there. She wore a backwards baseball cap and a tank top, her short hair sticking out at odd angles.
"Finally," Maryam said as Cameron killed the engine. "We were starting to think you got lost."
"Traffic," Jan said, pushing open the passenger door. "Also, I was getting shot at earlier. Give a woman a break."
Godfrey leaped from her lap before she could stop him, his small white body a blur as he raced up the porch steps and through the open front door. Jan heard Mandy's laugh from inside—that familiar, unflappable sound—followed by the scramble of claws on hardwood.
"Cane buddies!" Yukio called from somewhere inside. "Jan, get in here. We have matching accessories now."
Jan grabbed her cane and climbed out of the truck, her leg protesting the movement. The healing tech had closed the wound, but the muscle was still angry, still rebuilding itself. She would feel it for weeks.
Cameron was at her side in an instant, his hand hovering near her elbow, ready to catch her if she stumbled.
"I'm fine," she said.
"You're limping."
"I'm walking. That's a win."
Stacy and Rick followed them up the porch steps, Stacy's hand resting lightly on Rick's arm. The two of them moved together like they had been doing it for decades—which, technically, they had.
The living room of Judy's beach house looked like a war room crossed with a carnival.
Portia Bryant sat on the couch, her short brown hair pulled back, her expression calm and reassuring as she spoke to Ben. Ben's face was pale, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. Whatever Portia was saying, it seemed to be helping—his shoulders had relaxed slightly since Jan walked in.
Beth Williamson was curled up in an armchair, her phone propped against a lamp, her short blonde hair a mess. Calista's face filled the screen, her golden eyes bright, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders. Beside her, Diego sat close, his dark eyes worried but steady.
"We're fine," Beth was saying. "Everyone's fine. Tell Cody we're handling it."
Mandy stood at the kitchen island, a tablet in her hand, a stylus tucked behind her ear. Jess stood beside her, still in her Golden Wand suit, her charcoal jacket discarded, her white shirt sleeves rolled up. Bethany Xander-MacDougal hovered on Mandy's other side, her spiky white-blonde hair catching the light, her expression focused and intense.
Rachel Murphy sat on a stool at the end of the island, her red hair pulled back, her green eyes wide as she listened. She was still new to this—still figuring out her place in a world that had rejected her family's beliefs—but she was here. That counted for something.
Bruce and Felicity had claimed the dining table, which was covered in gadgets and wires and things that could have been weapons or party favors. Bruce held up a small device that looked like a modified thermos, his Scottish accent carrying across the room as he explained something to Felicity. Felicity nodded, her blonde ponytail bobbing, her blue eyes bright with curiosity.
Mai and Yukio lounged on the window seat, both of them watching the room with the relaxed attention of predators. Yukio's cane—the one with the sword hidden inside—rested against her knee. Mai had her phone out, probably livestreaming something, though she had the decency to keep the camera pointed at the ceiling.
Shiv O'Connor stood near the kitchen, her red hair streaked with silver, her green eyes fixed on Jan with an expression that could only be described as maternal judgment. Beside her, Brigid had her arms crossed, her own red hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, her doctor's bag at her feet.
"Jan Siobhan," Shiv said, her Irish brogue thick. "You look like hell."
"Thanks, Mam. Love you too."
"You were shot. In the leg. Because you ran into a fight you didn't need to be in."
"I ran into a fight because my friends were in trouble."
"And now you're limping."
"I'm walking. There's a difference."
Brigid stepped forward, her eyes scanning Jan with clinical precision. "Let me see the wound."
"It's healed."
"I'll be the judge of that."
"Mam, tell her I'm fine."
Shiv's expression didn't change. "I'm not telling her anything. Maybe if you'd stayed out of trouble, you wouldn't need a cane at forty-eight."
"Forty-nine."
"Even worse."
Jan sighed and let Brigid examine her leg. Her sister's fingers were gentle but firm, probing the healing tissue, checking for any signs of infection or improper closure.
"The tech did its job," Brigid said finally. "But you need rest. Actual rest. Not the kind where you run off to Miami and get into another fight."
"I'll rest when everyone's safe."
"That's what you always say."
"And I always mean it."
Jeeves hovered over, his small mechanical arms carrying a tray of glasses. The floating sphere—a foot tall, with numerous articulated limbs and a single glowing eye—bobbed gently in the air.
"Might I offer everyone a beverage?" Jeeves asked, his synthesized voice polite and precise. "I have prepared water, iced tea, and a selection of fruit juices. There will be no alcohol this evening, as Master Marty drank too much earlier, in part because no one explained the concept of alcohol tolerance to him."
Shiv's expression shifted—something between amusement and exasperation. "It serves the boy right."
"He didn't know any better," Brigid said.
"He's nineteen. He should know better."
"He's been living in a timeless void for most of his life. He's still learning."
"Then he can learn that hangovers are the price of curiosity."
Jan took a glass of water from Jeeves's tray and headed toward the kitchen island. Rick and Stacy followed, their presence a quiet, steady support.
Cameron peeled off toward the dining table, where Bruce was explaining the thermos-device to Felicity. He was handy with equipment, and Jan trusted him to figure out whether Bruce's gadgets were actually useful or just impressive-looking.
Yukio looked up as Jan passed. "Cane buddies," she said, tapping her own cane against the floor. "We should get matching stickers."
"I'm thinking rhinestones," Jan said.
"Now you're talking."
Mandy glanced up from her tablet as Jan approached, the stylus twirling between her fingers. Her long, shaggy brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and her perpetual smirk was firmly in place.
"Aunt Jan," she said. "Nice of you to join us."
"Wouldn't miss it." Jan pulled up a stool beside Rachel and sat down, her leg sighing with relief. "What's the plan?"
Mandy exchanged a glance with Jess, then with Bethany. Whatever they had been discussing, it was clearly complex.
"We're going to get them back," Mandy said. "But we're going to do it smart."
"Define smart."
"We know where they're being held. Portia gave us the location—a house in Evanston, about thirty minutes north of Chicago. Inez has at least six guards, maybe more. The basement is warded, but the wards are Consortium tech. Old tech."
"Which means—"
"Which means they can be broken. We just need the right access point." Mandy tapped the tablet, pulling up a schematic. "Bethany's been analyzing the signal patterns from the wards. They're based on the same system the original Consortium used in their facilities. We have the schematics for that system. It's just a matter of finding the back door."
Bethany nodded, her white-blonde spikes catching the light. "I can have the back door in about four hours. Maybe less, if Bruce's modifications to the decoder work the way he thinks they will."
"And then?" Jan asked.
"Then we go in." Mandy's smirk widened. "But not the way you're thinking. We're not sending in a strike team. We're sending in a distraction."
"A distraction."
"Several distractions, actually. While Bethany breaks the wards, we hit Inez from every angle. Legal. Public. Magical. Personal." Mandy counted off on her fingers. "One, Mara's lawsuit is already filed and the news is spreading. Two, Amy's fanbase is doing more damage to Inez's reputation than we ever could—they're calling for boycotts, demanding investigations, tagging the FBI on every post. Three, we have Kim and Maryam ready to do a magical assault on the wards from the outside, which will overload the system and give Bethany the opening she needs."
"And four?" Jan asked.
Mandy's dark eyes glinted. "Four, we have Rachel."
Rachel looked up, her green eyes wide. "Me?"
"You're Inez's daughter. She wants you back more than anything. If you show up on her doorstep, she'll be so focused on you that she won't see the rest of us coming."
Rachel's throat bobbed as she swallowed. "She'll try to take me."
"She'll try. She won't succeed." Mandy's voice was steady, confident. "You're not going in alone. You're not going in unprotected. And you're not going in without a way out."
"But still—"
"Rachel." Jan reached over and took Rachel's hand. "You don't have to do this. No one's going to force you."
"I know." Rachel's voice was small. "But she's my mother. And she's hurting people. If I can help stop her—if I can maybe get through to her—"
"She won't listen."
"I know." Rachel's jaw tightened. "But I have to try. Even if it doesn't work. Even if she rejects me. I have to try."
Jan squeezed her hand. "Then we'll be right there with you."
The room was quiet for a moment. Outside, the waves crashed against the shore, a steady, rhythmic heartbeat.
Then Jeeves floated over, his mechanical arms carrying another tray of drinks.
"Might I add, Mistress Jan, that you have a visitor waiting on the porch?"
Jan frowned. "A visitor?"
"Indeed. He arrived approximately ten minutes ago and has been waiting patiently for you to finish your conversation."
Jan looked at Mandy, who shrugged.
"I didn't know about anyone else coming," Mandy said.
Jan rose from her stool, her cane clicking against the hardwood floor. She crossed to the front door and pulled it open.
On the porch, standing in the moonlight, was a man she hadn't seen in years. Tall, with silver-streaked hair and kind eyes, wearing a rumpled suit that looked like it had been slept in.
"Johnny," Jan breathed.
John Patrick O'Connor—her brother, Portia's partner, Marty's father—looked at her with the exhausted relief of a man who had been running for a very long time.
"I heard there was a war," he said. "I brought the time machine."
Jan stared at him. Then she laughed—loud and bright and full of something that felt almost like hope.
"Get in here," she said. "We're just getting started."
---
The basement in Evanston smelled like sweat and sex and the faint, clean scent of the space heater that had appeared from nowhere. Inez stood at the bottom of the stairs, her hands clenched at her sides, her dark hair escaping from its tight bun, her face a mask of barely controlled fury.
Six naked people were scattered across the concrete floor.
Mike Williamson lay on his back, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps, his grey-streaked hair plastered to his forehead. His cock was still half-hard, slick with cum and saliva, resting against his belly. Beside him, Casey was on her hands and knees, her ass in the air, her head turned to watch the door with a lazy, satisfied smile.
"Oh, hey, Inez," she said. "Nice of you to drop by."
Mara Henderson was behind Casey—her mouth between Casey's thighs, her tongue buried in Casey's cunt, her dark curls sticking to her sweat-damp forehead, her shoulders pressed against Casey's thighs. She didn't stop when Inez walked in. She didn't even look up.
Amy Bryant lay on her back on a blanket that had definitely not been there an hour ago, her blonde hair spread around her head, her legs wrapped around Jason's waist as he fucked her with slow, deep strokes. Jason's face was buried in her neck, his breath hot against her skin, his hands gripping her hips like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.
Katrina Harlow sat against the wall, watching the scene with wide, storm-grey eyes. She wasn't participating—not yet—but she was warm, wrapped in a blanket, her shivering finally stopped.
Inez opened her mouth to speak.
Casey climaxed first.
"Fuck—yes—right there—Mara—" Her voice was loud, raw, completely unashamed. It echoed off the concrete walls, drowning out whatever Inez had been about to say. "Don't stop—don't you dare fucking stop—"
Inez's face went red.
Mike rolled onto his side, propping his head on his hand, watching Inez with the mild curiosity of a man observing a particularly uninteresting insect.
"It helps keep us warm," he said.
Inez's eye twitched.
"Excuse me?"
"The sex. It helps keep us warm." He gestured vaguely at the heater. "Even with the space heater and the blankets that appeared while you weren't looking. The body heat helps. The friction helps. The endorphins help."
"You're—" Inez sputtered. "You're prisoners. You're not supposed to be—"
"Enjoying ourselves?" Casey's voice was breathless as Mara brought her to another peak. "Sorry to disappoint. But you locked us up with the people we love. What did you think was going to happen?"
"I thought you'd be terrified!"
"We've been captured before." Mike's voice was calm, almost bored. "This isn't even in the top ten worst experiences. The food's terrible, but the company's excellent."
Inez's hands shook.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to make them understand how much danger they were in.
Instead, she stood there, listening to Casey moan, watching Jason move inside Amy, feeling her authority crumble with every thrust, every gasp, every filthy word that echoed off the walls.
"You will pay," she managed. "All of you. Once I have Rachel back—"
Casey climaxed again, louder this time, her voice cracking on a string of profanity that would have made a sailor blush.
"What was that?" Casey asked when she could breathe again. "I couldn't hear you over my orgasm."
Inez turned on her heel and stormed up the stairs.
The door slammed behind her.
Casey laughed, breathless and hoarse. "I really like her. She's so easy to annoy."
Mara pulled back, wiping her mouth, grinning. "I needed that."
"We all needed that." Amy's voice was dreamy, her fingers tangled in Jason's hair. "You okay, baby?"
Jason nodded against her neck. "You're here. I'm here. We're all here."
"That's right." She kissed his temple. "We're all here. And we're going to get out of this."
"How?" Katrina asked quietly.
Mike rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
"Mandy's working on it," he said. "I can feel it."
"Feel it how?"
"Dad instincts." He smiled. "They're real. You'll learn."
Jason lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed but focused. "What can we do?"
"Same thing we've been doing," Casey said, settling onto the blanket beside Mike, her head on his shoulder. "Stay alive. Stay together. And annoy the hell out of our captor."
"It's working," Mike said.
"How can you tell?"
"She's getting louder."
They laughed—all of them, even Katrina—and the sound filled the basement like light.
---
Jan found Mandy on the back porch an hour later, staring at the ocean. Godfrey was curled on her lap, his small body warm and solid, his nose twitching as he dreamed.
"You should be asleep," Jan said.
"Can't." Mandy didn't look away from the dark water. "Too much to do."
"Like what?"
"Like figuring out how to get my parents back without anyone getting hurt."
Jan lowered herself onto the bench beside Mandy, her cane leaning against her knee.
"You're your father's daughter, you know that?"
"I know."
"The way you plan. The way you stay calm when everything's falling apart. The way you make people laugh when they want to scream." Jan nudged Mandy's shoulder. "It's a gift."
"It doesn't feel like a gift right now." Mandy finally looked at her, and Jan saw the fear underneath the smirk. "I'm terrified, Aunt Jan. I'm terrified that I'm going to mess this up. That I'm going to lose them."
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do." Jan met her eyes. "Because you're not alone. You have me. You have Stacy and Rick. You have Jess and Ben and Beth and Rachel and everyone else in that house. And you have your parents—they're not going to give up. They're going to annoy Inez into making a mistake, and then we're going to be there to catch her."
Mandy's breath hitched.
"I can't lose them," she whispered.
"You won't." Jan pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I promise you, Mandy. We're going to get them back."
Godfrey woke up, blinked, and licked Mandy's hand.
She laughed—wet and broken and real.
"Okay," she said. "Okay. Let's go start a war."
Jan grinned.
"That's my girl."