Chapter 5: Exorcism by Fucking
The van ate up the miles of dark highway, a rumbling island in a sea of silence. The glowing topographical map had burned itself into their retinas before the artifact, spent, cooled back into a simple vial in Mai’s hands.
“The Sangre de Cristo range,” Agent Kay said, her voice tight. She’d been typing furiously on a sleek, wand-issue tablet. “Specific valley has no official name. Locals sometimes call it ‘The Sow’s Ear.’ High magical resonance, zero population. It’s a perfect blind spot.”
Mandy drove, her hands loose on the wheel. “So we’re heading into the perfect magical ambush spot. Brilliant.”
“The artifact wants to go home,” Mai murmured from the back, staring at her palm. The tattoo was quiet now, just a faint golden shimmer. “It’s not leading us into a trap. It’s leading us to where it can… do whatever it’s supposed to do.”
“And the psycho gardeners want to be there first to twist that,” Felicity concluded. She was nibbling on a protein bar, her mind clearly racing. “The possession. It’s a vector. They can use people as… as scouts. Or traps.”
Kay flinched, almost imperceptibly. “I should report in. The Merlin needs to know the True Root is active. We could have a full containment team at the valley in twelve hours.”
“Twelve hours is too long,” Mandy said flatly. “If they’ve got your kids, Tammy, they’re already moving. They’ve got a head start. A Wand ‘containment team’ will just be a clean-up crew.”
“Protocol exists for a reason, Mandy,” Kay snapped, a flash of professional pride breaking through. “You’re a civilian with a… a notorious family file. I am an agent of the Order.”
“You were also a potted plant an hour ago,” Mandy shot back, her eyes never leaving the road. “My ‘notorious family’ has a better survival rate than your protocol. We’re going. You can call your boss from the road.”
The tension in the van spiked, thick and sour. Kay’s jaw clenched. She looked out the window at the blur of night-shrouded prairie. Her breathing hitched, just once.
Felicity noticed it first. “Kay? Are you okay?”
Kay didn’t answer. Her body went stiff, her spine ramrod straight against the passenger seat. Her fingers, which had been tapping on the tablet, splayed wide, then curled into claws that scraped against the polycarbonate case.
“Oh, shit, not again,” Mai hissed, leaning forward.
Kay’s head turned toward them. Her eyes were glazing over, a film of obsidian spreading from the pupils outwards. A low, vegetative hum vibrated in her chest. Her hands moved to the buttons of her charcoal gray suit jacket, fumbling with mechanical precision.
“She’s peeling,” Mandy said, her voice cold with understanding.
“They left a seed in her,” Felicity breathed, horror-struck. “A latent command. It’s re-rooting.”
Kay stood up in the confined space, cracking her head against the van’s low ceiling. She didn’t seem to feel it. Her jacket was off, tossed aside. Her hands went to the white button-down shirt beneath.
“We have to stop her!” Felicity cried.
“No,” Mai said, her voice a low growl. She unbuckled her seatbelt. “We have to burn it out. Like before, but deeper.” The memory of the garage, of the feedback loop of fear and pleasure that had powered the artifact, was fresh. “It’s feeding on control. On violation. We give her back her body. Through feeling.”
Mandy swerved the van onto the wide, empty shoulder, gravel spraying. She threw it into park. “Do it.”
Kay’s shirt was open, her sensible lace bra exposed. Her fingers were on her slacks. Her black eyes were fixed on nothing, a drone following its programming.
Mai launched herself from the back bench. She didn’t try to restrain Kay’s hands. Instead, she shoved Mandy aside and pressed Kay hard against the side of the van, next to the sliding door. The cool metal shocked against Kay’s bare back.
“I need to fuck her out,” Mai growled, her English accent sharp with intent.
She dropped to her knees on the gravel. Her hands yanked Kay’s slacks and underwear down to her ankles in one brutal pull. Kay’s body, possessed or not, was a stunning thing—toned thighs, a neat thatch of dark curls. The hum emanating from her grew louder.
Mai didn’t hesitate. She buried her face between Kay’s thighs.
Her tongue was not gentle. It was a weapon, a probe. She speared it deep into Kay’s cunt, lapping at the inner walls with furious, broad strokes. Kay’s body jolted, a puppet with its strings yanked. A garbled sound, half-human groan, half-vegetative rasp, escaped her lips.
“Pinch her nipples,” Mai ordered, her mouth wet and busy. “Hard. She needs to feel it everywhere.”
Felicity, her scholar’s mind switching to a different kind of methodology, moved in. She squeezed Kay’s breasts through the bra, then tugged the cups down. Her thumbs and forefingers found the stiff, brown nipples and twisted. Kay’s back arched off the van.
Mandy held Kay’s arms above her head, pinning her wrists to the metal. She leaned close, her breath hot in Kay’s ear. “You in there, agent? Fight it. Feel this.”
Mai’s assault was relentless. She sucked Kay’s clit into her mouth, worrying it with her teeth, then soothed it with her tongue before diving back into her soaking hole. She fucked Kay with her face, her nose grinding against bone. The wet, sloppy sounds were obscene in the vast, empty night. The artifact in Mai’s pocket began to glow, responding to the intense, focused energy.
Kay’s body was a battleground. The rigid, possessed control fought against the tidal wave of sensory overload. Her hips began to stutter, trying to push Mai away, then trying to pull her closer. The black in her eyes swirled, chaotic.
“Come on, you Wand bitch,” Mai snarled, pulling back for air, her chin glistening. “You wanna be a tool for those root-fuckers? Or do you wanna scream?”
She plunged two fingers inside Kay, crooking them up, searching. She found the rough, spongy patch inside and pressed, fucking it with a steady, punishing rhythm with her fingers while her tongue lashed Kay’s clit.
That did it.
A shattering, raw-throated scream tore from Kay’s throat. It was pure, undiluted her. Her body convulsed, a violent, electric series of spasms that shook the van’s frame. Her cunt clamped down on Mai’s fingers, pulsing, gushing. The blackness in her eyes shattered and drained away like spilled ink, revealing the stunned, overwhelmed brown beneath.
The vegetative hum cut off abruptly.
Kay sagged in Mandy’s grip, heaving for air, sweat beading on her skin. She was utterly spent, trembling, human.
Mai withdrew her fingers, slowly. She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked at Kay, then at the faint, satisfied glow from her pocket. “Yeah. That’s how you weed a garden.”
Felicity gently pulled Kay’s bra and shirt back together, her touch now soft. Mandy released her wrists, and Kay slumped against the van, sliding down to sit in the gravel, legs splayed.
“I… I could feel it,” Kay whispered, her voice ragged. “The roots. In my mind. Growing. Then… heat. Lightning. It burned them out.”
Mandy crouched in front of her, her earlier coldness gone, replaced by a pragmatic intensity. “Are they gone? Or is there still a hook in you?”
Kay closed her eyes, focusing inward. She hugged her knees to her chest, a vulnerable gesture utterly at odds with her agent’s uniform. After a long moment, she shook her head. “It’s quiet. It’s… scorched earth in there. For now.” She looked up at Mai, a complex shame and gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you.”
Mai just nodded, leaning against the van, catching her own breath.
“They know we’re coming,” Felicity said, the implication clear. “If they can trigger sleeper agents, they knew the moment we decided on the destination. They’ll be waiting.”
Mandy stood, looking east where the first faint grey smear of dawn touched the horizon. “Then we don’t give them time to get comfortable.” She looked at Kay. “You still making that call?”
Kay took a deep, shuddering breath. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaky but holding. She buttoned her shirt with deliberate, reclaiming motions. “Yes. But I’m not calling for a containment team.” A new steel entered her voice. “I’m calling for close air support. And I’m invoking a familial assist protocol. Code name: Hornet’s Nest.”
A ghost of a smile touched Mandy’s lips. “My parents.”
“And their friends,” Kay confirmed, tapping her tablet. “The file says when you stir up a Williamson problem, you send in the whole damn hornet’s nest. They’re uniquely suited to… disruptive agriculture.”
As Kay spoke into her device, her voice low and official, Mandy pulled Felicity and Mai aside.
“We’re the tip of the spear,” Mandy said quietly. “We get there first. We find the planting site. We keep that artifact away from them until the cavalry arrives.” She glanced at Kay. “She’s with us now. For real.”
“What’s the plan?” Mai asked, her eyes gleaming with adrenaline.
“We drive until we can’t,” Mandy said. “Then we hike. And we cause so much goddamn noise and confusion that those root-sucking fanatics won’t know which way is up.”
Back in the van, the engine rumbled to life. The sky lightened from black to indigo. The map was in their minds, the enemy was waiting, and the road ahead climbed steadily toward dark, jagged peaks.
Kay finished her call, looking out at the waking landscape. “The Hornet’s Nest is mobilizing. ETA to the valley is seven hours.” She looked at Mandy, a flicker of that fangirl admiration finally directed at the right person. “They said to tell you… ‘Don’t start the party without us.’”
Mandy put the van in drive, her smirk returning, wider and more dangerous than before. “No promises.” The tires bit into the gravel, and they pulled back onto the highway, speeding toward the dawn and the mountains.
The tires bit into the gravel, and they pulled back onto the highway, speeding toward the dawn and the mountains.
The van drove on through the night, asphalt yielding to rough forest service roads that rattled their bones. When the road finally terminated at a washed-out creek bed, Mandy killed the engine. The silence that followed was absolute, deep, and smelled of pine resin and cold stone. “We walk from here,” she said, her voice cutting the quiet.
They shouldered their packs, the artifact a heavy secret in Mai’s. After an hour of steep, silent hiking through dense fir, they broke into a small, rocky clearing where a weak sun filtered through the branches. They dropped their gear, breathing hard in the thin air.
Kay caught Mandy’s arm as she unscrewed her water bottle. “A word?”
They stepped a few yards away, behind a curtain of towering aspens. Kay’s professional demeanor had softened into something openly awed. “I’m impressed,” she said, her voice low. “Your leadership. The way you handled me back there, the call you made. The files don’t do you justice.”
Mandy took a long swallow of water, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She shrugged, a loose, dismissive motion. “Someone’s gotta be the responsible one. Mai sees a cliff, she wonders what’s at the bottom. Felicity gets a whiff of a new magical theory, her brain goes on a five-hour detour. I just point us at the problem and start pushing.”
Kay nodded, her dark eyes studying Mandy’s face. A faint blush crept up her neck. “The files… they also mention your family’s… legendary bedroom prowess.” She said it like a technical term, but her gaze was hot. “Is that documentation accurate?”
A slow, knowing smirk spread across Mandy’s face. She capped her water bottle, setting it deliberately on a rock. “I don’t know how good my mom or dad or anyone else is, really. I’ve never taken a survey.” She took a step closer, closing the distance between them in the dappled light. “But I can show you my own findings.”
Kay’s breath hitched. “Please.”
She was eager, her hands moving to the fastenings of her hiking clothes with none of the mechanical possession from before. This was hunger, pure and simple. She stripped swiftly, shoving her pants down her legs, pulling her shirt over her head. Her body in the mountain air was a sculpture of taut muscle and smooth skin, her breasts full and tipped with tight, dark peaks.
Mandy didn’t rush. She let her eyes drink in the sight, a low hum of appreciation in her throat. “Fuck, you’re built,” she murmured, closing the final gap.
Her mouth found Kay’s collarbone first, a hot, open-mouthed kiss that made the agent shudder. Mandy’s hands mapped the territory of her back, palming the firm globes of her ass, squeezing hard. She trailed her tongue down the center line of Kay’s torso, circling her navel, inhaling the clean, sharp scent of her sweat.
When Mandy dropped to her knees in the soft loam, she hooked Kay’s leg over her shoulder. She didn’t tease. Her tongue laid a broad, wet stripe from the aching heat of Kay’s entrance all the way up to her clit, which she immediately took into her mouth.
“Christ,” Kay gasped, her fingers tangling in Mandy’s shaggy brown hair.
Mandy worshipped her with a focused, devastating intensity. She ate Kay’s cunt like it was her only purpose, her tongue plunging deep, fucking her with it, then sucking her clit with rhythmic, vacuum-tight pulls. She added two fingers, crooking them up to press relentlessly against that internal rough spot as she’d seen Mai do, her mouth sealed over Kay’s core.
Kay’s hips stuttered, then bucked wildly. Her back arched, her head thrown back against an aspen trunk. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna—fuck!” The curse shattered into a wordless, raw cry as her orgasm ripped through her. Her thighs clamped around Mandy’s head, her body convulsing in wave after wave of release. Mandy rode it out, drinking her in, until Kay was limp, sliding down the tree trunk, spent and panting.
Mandy stood, licking her lips clean. Kay looked up at her, dazed, overwhelmed. “So… are you… seeing anyone?” Kay asked, the question clumsy, emerging from her post-climax haze.
Mandy barked a laugh, loud in the quiet woods. She pulled her own shirt back on. “Yeah. My boyfriend, Ben. He’s great.” Her smirk turned wicked. “He’ll appreciate hearing all about this later. Loves the stories.”
Kay’s blush returned, fierce and full, coloring her chest and face. She fumbled for her clothes, suddenly shy.
Hundreds of miles east, on a different highway, Ben white-knuckled the steering wheel of his sedan. In the passenger seat, Bruce MacDougal was methodically checking the fittings on a complex, steampunk-looking device. In the back, Yukio Harata leaned on her cane, her phone pressed to her ear.
“We heard the Hornet’s Nest is buzzing, Red,” Yukio said, her voice a dry rasp. “We’re already on the move. My internal GPS is pinging like a fucking slot machine.” The tracking spell she’d woven into Mai’s very bones when she was a toddler, a paranoid adventurer’s safeguard, was a constant, faint tug behind her sternum.
Jan’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Your kid and mine are apparently spearheading a cult uprising. Mike and Casey are… coordinating. It’s a mess.”
A massive shadow fell across the car, plunging them into momentary darkness. Ben flinched, the car swerving slightly. “What the hell was that?”
Yukio didn’t even glance up. She rolled down her window, the rushing air whipping her dark hair. “Don’t wet yourself, Ben. It’s just Flamewing. She gets antsy when I’m on the road.” Against the bright sky, the silhouette of a vast, winged reptile circled once before gliding ahead of them, a scaled escort. “Sometimes she just shows up.”
Back at the Chicago house, chaos was a mild term.
“My stealth stamina is superior, and my reflexes are elven!” Calista argued, her silver hair flashing as she stood in the doorway. “I should drive!”
Rick rubbed his temples, a dusting of flour on his apron. “Callie, the last time you ‘stealthily’ drove, you merged onto the interstate like you were being chased by orcs. You scare me.”
In the living room, Jan and Bethany stood over a sprawling paper map, their voices rising.
“The I-80 route is clogged with logistical nightmares, Jan!” Bethany snapped, her spiky white-blonde hair quivering.
“Your Aesther-Sprite can bypass logistics, Bethany! Fly over the goddamn traffic!”
“It’s not a charter service!”
Outside, Hank’s truck engine roared to life. He was already backing down the driveway. Fatima sat shotgun, her expression serene, while Kim and Maryam bickered in the back over who would get to use the enchanted sheet on their baseball bat-turned-weapon first.
Mike watched the truck go, then turned to Casey. “We’re taking your sister’s old RV, aren’t we.”
Casey was already stuffing a duffel bag with what looked like random hardware supplies and several tubes of paint. “Obviously. It’s the most annoying vehicle we own. It’ll piss them off just to look at it.”
In the mountain clearing, Kay, now dressed, followed Mandy back toward where they’d left the others. The serene quiet was gone, replaced by a chilling, empty stillness.
Mai was gone. Their packs were scattered.
From the edge of the trees, three figures were retreating, hauling a limp, walking Mai between them. Two young men, lean and sun-hardened with the same straw-colored hair, and a young woman with fierce blue eyes. Their faces sparked a vague, horrified recognition in Mandy—she’d seen them in photographs on Annie Sweeney’s mantel. Franklin’s cousins. Caleb, Beau, and Sage.
One of the young men, Caleb, glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes held no human warmth, only a green, vegetative gleam. “The seed is planted,” he hissed, his voice the sound of rustling, dry leaves.
Then they melted into the shadows of the deep woods, taking Mai with them.
“No!” Mandy lunged forward, but Kay held her back.
A soft, rhythmic murmur made them both freeze. They turned.
Felicity stood barefoot and utterly naked in the center of the clearing, her clothes in a heap at her feet. Her blue eyes were wide, unfocused, reflecting the overcast sky. Her lips moved in a steady, lifeless monotone, dripping with a desperate, programmed need.
“I must be fucked. I must be fucked. I must be fucked.”