Chapter 15: The Interviewer's Test
The room smelled of rust and something older—damp sugar, the ghost of molasses, and beneath it all, a faint ozone hum that made Amanda's teeth ache. The concrete walls bore faint, glowing sigils, barely visible in the dim light of a single flickering neon bulb. It cast long shadows over the table where three chairs sat, their metal legs slightly warped, as if reshaped by unseen hands.
The masked man paced behind them.
He hadn't given a name. He hadn't given anything except orders, and those orders had been simple. Strip. Sit. Wait.
So they'd stripped. Amanda's fingers had trembled on the buttons of her sundress, but she'd forced them steady. She'd let the fabric pool at her feet. She'd unclasped her bra, slid her panties down her legs, and stepped out of them without meeting anyone's eyes.
Cody had done the same. His jeans, his boxers, his shirt—all of it folded neatly on a chair in the corner. His body was lean and pale, his shoulders hunched slightly, his hands resting on his thighs.
Maryam had stripped like she was taking off workout clothes after a game. No hesitation. No shame. Her body was identical to Kim's—same curves, same strength—but she carried it differently. Looser. More casual. She sat with her legs spread, elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, watching the masked man with an expression that bordered on bored.
The interviewer circled them.
His footsteps echoed. Slow. Deliberate. The mask was a smooth, featureless thing—black porcelain, no eye holes, no mouth. Just a blank face that somehow managed to convey disappointment.
"Maryam Powers," he said.
His voice was distorted. Low and flat, like it had been run through a synthesizer.
"Yes?"
"Tell me about your sister."
Maryam's jaw tightened.
"Which one?"
"You only have one."
"Technically, I have a twin. That's not the same as a sister."
The masked man stopped pacing. Stood directly behind her.
"Tell me about Kim."
Maryam was quiet for a moment. Then she laughed—a short, ugly sound that didn't reach her eyes.
"Kim," she said. "Kim is a fucking joke."
"Explain."
"She thinks she's special. She thinks she's chosen. She walks around with that stupid sword like she's some kind of warrior princess, spouting Green Moon philosophy like it's gospel." Maryam's voice dripped with venom. "She chose magic over family. Over me. We were supposed to be twins. We were supposed to be partners. And then she found the Green Moon and suddenly I was just... background noise."
"Did she abandon you?"
"She didn't have to. She just... stopped seeing me. Stopped caring. Everything became about her training, her powers, her precious fucking destiny." Maryam's hands clenched into fists. "She struts around like she's better than everyone. Like she's enlightened. Like the rest of us are just stumbling around in the dark while she basks in the moonlight."
"And you resent her for that."
"I hate her for that."
The words hung in the air.
Amanda's stomach twisted. She knew Maryam was playing a role. She knew this was part of the plan. But the anger in Maryam's voice sounded real. The bitterness. The hurt.
Maybe it was real.
Maybe the best lies were built on truths.
The masked man turned to Amanda.
"Amanda MacInteyre."
"Yes?"
"Tell me about your parents."
Amanda's throat tightened.
"Which ones?"
"All of them."
She took a breath. Let it out slowly.
"Will and Sarah are... good people. Kind people."
"And Brigid?"
"Brigid is the third. The magical one. The one who completes their triad." Amanda's voice was flat. "She's the one who matters."
"Is she?"
"She's powerful. She's brilliant. She's a doctor and a mage and she can do things I can't even understand." Amanda laughed bitterly. "And Jenny? Jenny is her daughter. Jenny has magic. Jenny has potential. Jenny is the special one."
"And you're not."
"I'm ordinary." Amanda's hands were shaking. She pressed them flat against her thighs. "I'm the normal one. The one without powers. The one who's just... there."
"That must be difficult."
"It's fine. I've made peace with it."
"Have you?"
Amanda looked up. The mask gave nothing away. But she could feel his attention on her—cold and clinical and utterly without sympathy.
"No," she said. "I haven't. I hate it. I hate watching them fawn over Jenny while I'm standing right there. I hate knowing that no matter what I do, I'll never be enough. I'll never be magical. I'll never be special."
"And Cody?"
"Cody sees me. Cody loves me. Cody doesn't care that I don't have powers." Amanda's voice cracked. "Cody is the only person who's ever looked at me and seen me. Not the ordinary one. Not the disappointment. Just... me."
The masked man was quiet.
Then he turned to Cody.
"Cody Murphy."
"Yeah."
"Tell me about your father."
Cody's breath caught.
"My father," he said slowly, "was a bastard."
The words came out rough. Raw.
"He was cruel. He was controlling. He hated everything I believed in. He hated magic. He hated people who used it. He hated anyone who disagreed with him." Cody's hands were shaking. "But he was still my father. And when he collapsed... when the despair bomb went off..."
His voice broke.
"I was there. I was in the gallery. I watched him fall. I watched him crumble. I watched the man who'd spent my whole life telling me I was wrong become a hollow shell of himself, and I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save him. I couldn't help him. I just... watched."
"And how did that make you feel?"
"Relieved."
The word was barely a whisper.
"I felt relieved. And then I felt guilty. And then I felt angry. And then I felt nothing at all." Cody's eyes were wet. "I hated him. I hated him so much. But he was still my father."
The masked man studied them.
Minutes passed. Amanda's skin prickled with goosebumps. The air was cold against her bare flesh, and she could feel the ozone hum growing stronger, buzzing at the edge of her awareness.
Then the masked man nodded.
"Get dressed," he said. "You've passed."
Relief crashed through Amanda's chest. She scrambled for her clothes, pulling her dress over her head, stepping into her underwear. Cody was doing the same, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.
Maryam dressed slowly. Deliberately. She didn't look relieved. She looked like someone who'd just won a fight and was waiting for the next one.
"Welcome to the Consortium," the masked man said. "You'll receive your first assignment tomorrow."
He turned and walked toward a door at the back of the room—a heavy steel thing that looked like it belonged in a bank vault.
Then he stopped.
"Oh, and Murphy?"
Cody froze.
"Yes?"
"Your brother sends his regards."
The door slammed shut.
---
They didn't speak until they were three blocks away.
The old sugar factory loomed behind them, a hulking silhouette against the orange-purple sky of Miami dusk. The streets were empty. The air smelled like salt and exhaust and something rotting in the gutter.
Amanda grabbed Cody's arm.
"Your brother?"
Cody's face was pale. His hands were still shaking.
"Eddie," he said. "That was Eddie."
"Are you sure?"
"The mask. The voice modulator. The way he moved." Cody laughed—a hollow, broken sound. "I've known Eddie my whole life. I'd recognize him anywhere."
Maryam was walking ahead of them, hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans, baseball cap pulled low. She glanced back over her shoulder.
"So the interviewer was your brother. That's... something."
"It's not something. It's a disaster."
"Why?"
"Because Eddie doesn't trust anyone. He doesn't believe in second chances. If he's running the Miami cell, then he's already planning something. He's already..." Cody stopped. Pressed his palms against his eyes. "He's already decided how this ends."
"And how does it end?"
"I don't know. But it's not good."
Amanda stepped closer. Wrapped her arms around him. Pressed her face against his chest.
"We'll figure it out," she said. "We always figure it out."
"Not this time."
"Yes, this time. We have Kim. We have Jenny. We have Maryam and her stupid baseball bat." Amanda squeezed him tighter. "We have each other."
Cody was quiet.
Then he wrapped his arms around her. Held her like she was the only solid thing in a world that had turned to water.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you too."
Maryam made a gagging noise.
"Can we save the romantic shit for later? We need to debrief. We need to tell Kim what happened."
Amanda pulled back. Wiped her eyes. Nodded.
"Right. Debrief. Let's go."
---
They met Kim at the meditation center.
She was waiting in the main room, her sword across her knees, her eyes closed. The bioluminescent vines overhead pulsed with slow, steady light. The candles had been relit. The air smelled like incense and something herbal.
She opened her eyes when they entered.
"Well?"
Cody told her.
Everything. The masked man. The questions. The stripping. Eddie's voice behind the mask. The way he'd said your brother sends his regards like it was a threat and a promise all at once.
Kim listened without interrupting.
When he was done, she was quiet for a long moment.
"Eddie Murphy," she said.
"Yeah."
"The bookish one. The true believer."
"He's not a true believer. He's just... angry. He's always been angry."
"At you?"
"At everything. At magic. At the world." Cody's voice was tired. "He blames Yukio for what happened to our father. He blames the Green Moon. He blames anyone who uses magic for anything."
"And now he's running the Miami cell."
"Looks like it."
Kim nodded slowly. Her fingers drummed against the hilt of her sword.
"This changes things."
"How?"
"If Eddie is here—if he's personally involved—then he's expecting us. He's expecting a trap." Kim's eyes were hard. "He interviewed you himself. He wanted to look you in the eye. He wanted to see if you were lying."
"And?"
"And you passed. Which means either he believes you, or he's playing a longer game."
"Great," Maryam muttered. "So we're either safe or we're fucked."
"We're both. Status?" Kim looked directly at Amanda now.
"We're in," Amanda said. "They gave us an assignment. Tomorrow. We don't know the details yet."
"Then we prepare."
"For what?"
Kim's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"For everything."
---
They slept in the meditation center that night.
The side room had been cleaned. The futon had been stripped and remade with fresh sheets. The candles had been replaced. The air smelled like lavender and sandalwood instead of sex.
Amanda lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Cody was beside her, his arm draped across her stomach, his breath warm against her shoulder. Maryam was on the other side of the room, curled on a cot she'd dragged in from somewhere, her baseball bat propped against the wall.
None of them were sleeping.
"You know," Maryam said, "when I moved to Miami, I thought it would be fun. Sun. Beaches. Cute guys."
"And instead you got infiltrating a terrorist organization and pretending to hate your sister."
"Pretty much."
"Sorry about that."
"Don't be sorry. Just... buy me a beer when this is over."
"Deal."
Silence.
Then Cody spoke.
"I'm scared."
The words were quiet. Barely a whisper.
Amanda turned her head. Looked at him. His eyes were open, staring at nothing.
"Me too," she said.
"I don't want to die."
"You're not going to die."
"You don't know that."
"No. But I know I'll do everything I can to keep you alive." Amanda's hand found his. Squeezed. "We all will."
Maryam sat up. Looked across the room at them.
"Okay," she said. "This is going to sound weird. But I think we need to do a ritual."
"What kind of ritual?"
"The Green Moon kind. The kind Kim does." Maryam's face was flushed. "I'm not good at this stuff. I don't understand the philosophy. But I saw what happened last time. I felt it. When we were all together, when we were all... connected... I felt safe. I felt calm. I felt like nothing could touch us."
Amanda frowned.
"You want to have sex?"
"I want to do the ritual. The sex is... part of it. But it's not the point."
"What's the point?"
"The point is we're about to walk into hell. And I don't want to do it alone."
Silence.
Then Cody sat up.
"I'm in."
Amanda looked at him.
"You are?"
"I am. Maryam's right. When we did the ritual before, I felt... I don't know how to describe it. Like I wasn't alone. Like we were all part of something bigger."
"That's the Green Moon," Maryam said. "That's what Kim says it feels like. Connection. Community. Love."
"But you don't believe in the Green Moon."
"I don't have to believe in it to feel it."
Amanda was quiet.
Then she nodded.
"Okay," she said. "Okay. Let's do it."
---
They didn't have candles. They didn't have incense. They didn't have the bioluminescent vines pulsing overhead.
But they had each other.
Maryam stood first. Pulled off her t-shirt. Unbuttoned her jeans. Stepped out of them without ceremony.
Amanda followed. Slower. More deliberate. She unzipped her dress, let it fall, unhooked her bra, slid her panties down.
Cody was last. He stripped without looking at anyone, his movements quick and efficient.
Then they stood in a triangle. Naked. Breathing.
Maryam reached out. Took Amanda's hand. Amanda took Cody's. Cody took Maryam's.
The circle was complete.
"Okay," Maryam said. "I don't know the words. I don't know the chant. But I know we're supposed to focus on our intention. On what we want."
"Safety," Cody said.
"Safety," Amanda echoed.
"Victory," Maryam said.
They closed their eyes.
The air shifted. Something warm and electric crackled between them, running up their arms, through their chests, down their spines. It wasn't as strong as before—not the full force of a Green Moon ritual, not the power that came from an initiate's blessing—but it was something.
Connection.
Community.
Love.
Amanda felt it pulse through her. Felt the fear recede, just a little. Felt the loneliness fade, just a bit.
She opened her eyes.
Cody was looking at her.
His eyes were dark. His chest was rising and falling. His cock was half-hard, twitching with each beat of his heart.
"You're beautiful," he said.
"So are you."
Maryam stepped closer. Her body was warm against Amanda's side. Her breath was hot against Amanda's neck.
"We don't have to do anything," she said. "We can just... stand here. Hold each other. That might be enough."
"It's not enough," Amanda said.
She turned. Cupped Maryam's face in her hands. Kissed her.
Maryam made a surprised sound—a little gasp, a little moan—and then she was kissing back, her hands finding Amanda's hips, pulling her closer.
Cody moved behind Amanda. Pressed his chest against her back. His lips found her shoulder. Her neck.
His hand slid around her waist. Down her stomach. Between her legs.
She was already wet.
"Fuck," he whispered. "You're so wet."
"Shut up and touch me."
He did.
His fingers found her clit and circled it slowly, gently, while his other hand cupped her breast. Maryam was kissing her neck now, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin, her hands sliding down to cup Amanda's ass.
Amanda's knees buckled.
"I need—" she gasped. "I need to lie down."
They lowered her to the futon. Cody knelt between her legs. Maryam stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow.
"I want to watch," Maryam said.
"Pervert."
"Absolutely."
Cody leaned down. Kissed Amanda's inner thigh. Then the other one. Then, very slowly, very deliberately, his tongue found her cunt.
Amanda moaned.
He licked her slowly at first, long strokes from her entrance to her clit, savoring the taste of her. Then faster. Harder. His tongue flicked against her clit while his fingers slid inside her, crooking just right, finding that spot that made her vision blur.
"Fuck," she gasped. "Fuck, Cody, don't stop—"
Maryam's hand found her breast. Squeezed. Rolled her nipple between her fingers.
"Does that feel good?"
"Yes—fuck—yes—"
"You're so beautiful like this. On your back. Legs spread. Getting eaten out."
"Shut—shut up—"
Maryam laughed. Leaned down. Took Amanda's other nipple in her mouth.
The dual sensation—Cody's tongue on her clit, Maryam's mouth on her breast—sent Amanda spiraling.
She came with a scream.
Her hips bucked. Her hands fisted in the sheets. Her cunt clenched around Cody's fingers, waves of pleasure crashing through her.
When she came down, she was shaking.
"Holy shit," she whispered.
Cody pulled back. Wiped his mouth. Grinned.
"You're welcome."
"My turn," Maryam said.
She straddled Amanda's face. Lowered herself until her cunt was hovering just above Amanda's mouth.
"Eat," she said.
Amanda did.
Maryam tasted different than she did. Musky and sweet and slightly bitter. Her thighs were strong against Amanda's cheeks, her hands braced on the wall above the futon.
"That's it," she breathed. "That's it, just like that—"
Cody moved behind Maryam. His hands found her hips. His cock, hard and leaking, pressed against her ass.
"Do you want—"
"Yes," Maryam gasped. "Fuck yes."
He pushed inside her.
Maryam's back arched. Her fingers dug into the wall. Her cunt clenched against Amanda's mouth.
"Oh fuck," she groaned. "Oh fuck, Cody, that's—that's so—"
He moved slowly at first. Letting her adjust. Then faster. Harder. His hips slapping against her ass, his balls swinging, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps.
Amanda kept licking. Kept sucking. Tasted Maryam's arousal mixed with her own.
It was filthy. It was perfect.
Maryam came with a shout.
Her body convulsed. Her thighs clamped around Amanda's head. Her cunt gushed into Amanda's mouth, and Amanda drank it down, swallowing until Maryam finally collapsed.
Cody pulled out. His cock was slick with Maryam's juices, straining and ready.
"Your turn," Amanda said.
She climbed off the futon. Positioned herself on her hands and knees.
"Fuck me."
Cody didn't hesitate.
He grabbed her hips. Pushed inside her in one long, smooth stroke. Bottomed out with a groan.
"Jesus," he panted. "Jesus, Amanda, you feel—"
"I know. Fuck me."
He did.
He fucked her hard. Fast. His hips slamming against her ass, his fingers digging into her hips, his breath hot on her back. The futon creaked. The candles flickered. Maryam watched from the side, her fingers between her legs, her eyes half-closed.
Amanda came again.
Cody came a moment later.
He pulled out. Collapsed onto the futon beside her. His chest was heaving. His cock was softening against his thigh.
"Fuck," he said.
"Yeah."
Maryam crawled over. Curled up on Amanda's other side.
"So," she said. "That was a ritual."
"Shut up."
"No, I'm serious. That was... I don't know. It felt different."
"Different how?"
"Different like... we're connected now. Like we're part of something." Maryam's voice was softer than usual. "I've never felt that before. Not with anyone."
Amanda turned her head. Looked at her.
"Me neither."
They lay there in silence.
The candles burned low.
The air was warm.
And somewhere, in the distance, the astral plane pulsed with a light that was getting brighter.
The light didn't stop at the horizon. It crawled. Slow and patient, like something alive, spilling across the astral sand in tendrils of gold-white heat. Mandy watched it approach and felt the key in her hand grow warm.
"Okay," she said. "We need to move."
Beth was already on her feet—or what passed for feet on the astral plane, which felt more like walking on warm gelatin than anything solid. She had her arms crossed over her chest, her short blonde hair whipping in a wind that didn't exist.
"I'm still naked," she said.
"So am I," Calista replied.
"That's not helping."
"It wasn't meant to help. It was meant to point out that you're being ridiculous."
Rick stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into pockets that weren't there. He was trying very hard to look at no one. His sister. His adopted sister. His biological daughter who thought of herself as his sister. All of them naked. All of them standing on a beach that existed somewhere between dreams and death.
"I think I see pants," he said.
Everyone turned.
The dunes behind them had shifted. Where there had been nothing but sand and that sickly sky, there was now a structure. Low and sprawling and made of something that looked like driftwood and memory.
"Is that a house?" Beth asked.
"I don't know what it is."
"Great. Very helpful."
"Beth," Mandy said. "Calm down."
"I am calm. I'm just also naked and being chased by a cosmic light and standing next to my brother who I'm pretty sure is trying not to stare at my—"
"I'm not staring," Rick said.
"You're definitely staring."
"I'm staring at the house. The house made of driftwood. That house."
Calista laughed. It was a bright, musical sound that cut through the tension like a blade.
"You're both ridiculous," she said. "Beth, you have a beautiful body. Rick, you have a beautiful body. I have a beautiful body. We're all beautiful. Can we please focus on the fact that the Shine is about to eat us?"
The light was closer now. Mandy could feel the heat of it against her back, warm and hungry.
"Run," she said.
They ran.
---
The house was bigger up close.
Three stories of weathered planks and salt-bleached beams, windows dark and watchful. The door was open. Mandy didn't stop to wonder why. She just grabbed Beth's hand and pulled her inside, Calista and Rick close behind.
The door slammed shut.
The light pressed against the walls. Mandy could feel it through the wood, pulsing and probing, searching for a way in. But it didn't find one. The house held.
"What is this place?" Beth whispered.
Andre stepped out of the shadows.
He looked the same as before—old and young at once, his face shifting between the two like water. He wore a coat that seemed to be made of stars. His eyes were kind.
"A waystation," he said. "A place between places. You'll be safe here. For now."
"For now?" Mandy's grip tightened on the key. "What does that mean?"
"It means the Shine is patient. It means it will wait. It means you have time to figure out what you're going to do."
"And that's what this is about. Figuring out what we're going to do."
"Yes."
Mandy looked at her siblings. Beth, arms still crossed, shivering despite the warmth. Calista, calm and unbothered, her silver hair cascading over her pale shoulders. Rick, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on Andre with the kind of intensity Mandy recognized from their childhood.
"Okay," Mandy said. "We're listening."
Andre smiled. It was a sad smile. A tired one.
"The Shine," he said, "is not a monster."
"Could've fooled me."
"It's a guardian. A keeper. It was created to protect something very precious. Something that was never meant to be found."
"What is it protecting?"
Andre was quiet.
"I don't know," he said. "I've been here a long time. Decades. Maybe longer. And I've never been able to reach it. Never been able to see what it guards."
"But you know it's important."
"I know it's worth dying for. I know people have died for it. Are still dying for it."
Beth made a small sound. Mandy reached for her hand.
"And you think we can reach it," Mandy said. "You think we can do something you couldn't."
"I think you have something I don't." Andre's eyes flicked to the key in Mandy's hand. "You have the key. And you have each other."
Rick stepped forward. His voice was rough.
"And if we fail?"
"Then you die. And everyone counting on you dies with you."
---
They found clothes in a trunk by the window.
Not real clothes—nothing was real here—but close enough. Beth pulled on a pair of soft pants and a tunic that felt like it was made of clouds. She didn't care. It was better than being naked.
Calista didn't bother. She stood by the window, watching the Shine press against the walls, and didn't move to get dressed.
"You're really comfortable with all this," Beth said.
"With being naked? Yes."
"With any of this. The astral plane. The cosmic light. The fact that we might die."
"I've died before."
Beth blinked.
"What?"
Calista turned. Her golden eyes were calm. Her smile was gentle.
"Elves experience death differently. My mother—the one who gave birth to me—she lived for centuries. She died and came back three times before I was born." She shrugged. "It's not the ending you think it is. There's always something else. Another form. Another life."
"That's not comforting."
"It wasn't meant to be." Calista crossed the room. Took Beth's hands. "What I mean is you don't have to be afraid. Whatever happens, we're together. Whatever happens, we'll find each other. That's what matters."
Beth's eyes were wet.
"You're really annoying sometimes."
"I know."
"And really weird."
"I know."
"And I love you."
"I love you too."
They hugged. Rick looked away. Mandy pretended not to notice. As Beth and Calista parted, Beth sighs with frustration as her new outfit dissolves like vapor, leaving her naked again.
Andre cleared his throat.
"The Shine won't wait forever. But it will wait until morning. You should rest. You should talk. You should decide what you're going to do."
"And what are you going to do?" Mandy asked.
"I'm going to keep the house standing." Andre walked toward the door. Paused with his hand on the frame. "One more thing. The Shine isn't the only thing watching you."
"What else is there?"
"Things that want the light to stay buried. Things that want you to fail." He looked back over his shoulder. "Be careful who you trust."
He opened the door and stepped into the light.
The door closed behind him. The light outside flickered. Then it settled. Then it waited.
---
Mandy slept.
She didn't mean to. She was sitting against the wall, her eyes on the door, and then she wasn't. The exhaustion hit her like a wave, and she slipped under before she could stop it.
She dreamed of Ben.
His hands on her skin. His mouth on her neck. His voice in her ear, low and urgent, saying her name like a prayer.
She dreamed of Jess.
Her dark hair spread across a pillow. Her smile, sharp and knowing. Her fingers inside Mandy's cunt, curling just right, dragging pleasure out of her body like a confession.
She dreamed of them together.
Ben fucking her from behind while Jess watched. Jess eating her out while Ben stroked himself. Both of them touching her at once, everywhere at once, until she couldn't tell where her body ended and theirs began.
She woke up wet.
The room was dark. Beth was asleep a few feet away, curled on her side. Calista was by the window, still naked, still watching. Rick was against the opposite wall, his eyes closed, his breath even.
Mandy pressed her thighs together.
It didn't help.
---
Morning—or what passed for morning—came with a shift in the light. The Shine had retreated. Not far. Just enough to give them room to breathe.
Mandy stood. Stretched. Felt the key still warm in her hand.
"We need to move," she said.
Rick opened his eyes. "You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
Beth sat up. Bleary-eyed. "Where's Andre?"
"Gone."
"Gone where?"
"Gone. Just gone." Mandy walked to the door. "We don't have time to wait for him. We need to figure out what the Shine is and how to get past it."
"And if we can't?"
"Then we do what we always do."
"And what's that?"
Mandy turned. Looked at her siblings. Smiled.
"We improvise."
---
The beach stretched out before them. The Shine was still there, still pulsing, still bright. But it was different now. Closer. Hungrier.
Mandy started walking.
The key in her hand glowed.
And somewhere behind her, Beth was muttering, "I still don't see why we can't just find a mall."
---
Meanwhile, in Miami, Kim Powers was doing something she almost never did.
She was cooking.
The meditation center's kitchen was small, functional, utilitarian. Not a place for creativity. Not a place for improvisation. But Kim had woken up with a hunger that felt like something else—something deeper—and she'd decided to feed it.
Eggs. Vegetables. Rice. Simple things. Good things.
Jenny O'Connor sat at the counter, a mug of coffee in her hands. She looked like she hadn't slept. Her red hair was a mess. Her green eyes were shadowed.
"You're making breakfast," she said.
"I am."
"Why?"
"Because I'm hungry. Because Cody and Amanda and Maryam are going to wake up soon and they'll need to eat. Because—" Kim paused. "Because I don't know what else to do."
Jenny nodded. Took a sip of coffee.
"Have you heard from Mandy's people?"
"No."
"Has anyone else heard from Mandy's people?"
"No."
"That's not good."
"I know."
Silence. The eggs sizzled. The rice steamed. The air smelled like garlic and ginger and something that was almost home.
Jenny set down her mug.
"Something's wrong," she said. "I can feel it. Something's happening on the astral plane. Something big."
Kim didn't turn around.
"How do you know?"
"I don't know. I just... know. My magic. It's tied to dreams. To illusions. To the spaces between things." Jenny's voice was quiet. "And right now, those spaces are screaming."
Kim turned off the burner. Turned to face her.
"Screaming how?"
"Screaming like someone's ripping them open. Like someone's doing surgery without anesthesia." Jenny's eyes were wet. "I don't know what it means. But it's bad. It's really, really bad."
Kim crossed the room. Took Jenny's hands.
"We'll figure it out. We always figure it out."
"And if we don't?"
"Then we fight until we do."
Jenny laughed. A broken, watery sound.
"You sound like your sister."
"Which one?"
"Both of them."
A door opened down the hall. Footsteps. Amanda emerged, rumpled and half-awake, her blonde hair a disaster.
"Something smells good," she said.
"Sit down," Kim said. "We need to talk."
Amanda sat.
---
Cody's phone buzzed at nine forty-seven.
He was in the shower. Amanda was still eating breakfast. Maryam was arguing with Jenny about the proper way to scramble eggs.
The phone buzzed again.
Jenny picked it up. Looked at the screen.
"It's a text," she said. "Unknown number."
Cody emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing behind him, a towel around his waist.
"What's it say?"
Jenny read it aloud.
"Report to 2374 S. Alton Rd. Suite 402. Bring the girls. Noon."
Cody's face went pale.
"That's the Consortium address. That's where they want us."
"When?"
"Noon."
Kim walked in. Her face was hard.
"Then we don't have much time." She looked at each of them in turn. "Cody. Amanda. Maryam. You're going in. But you're not going blind."
"What do you mean?" Amanda asked.
"I mean I've been doing research. I mean I know more about the Miami cell than I've been letting on." Kim pulled a folded map from her pocket. "And I mean I have a plan."
---
The address was a strip mall.
Not what any of them expected. Not a warehouse. Not a bunker. Not a secret underground lair. Just a strip mall in South Beach, wedged between a nail salon and a vape shop.
"Suite 402," Amanda said.
"Second floor," Maryam added.
They walked up the stairs.
The door was unmarked. Plain. White. The kind of door that could belong to a dentist's office or a tax accountant.
Cody knocked.
The door swung open.
Eddie Murphy stood on the other side.
---
He was taller than Cody remembered. Broader. The bookishness had hardened into something else—something leaner and meaner. His hair was cut short. His glasses were new. His smile was warm.
"Cody," he said.
"Eddie."
"Come in. Mom's here."
Cody stepped inside.
The room was small and cluttered and smelled like stale coffee and old paper. Inez Murphy sat at a table in the corner, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, her eyes bright and sharp.
"Cody," she said. "You came."
"You invited me."
"I invited the prodigal son. I didn't think you'd actually show."
Inez stood. Crossed the room. Pulled him into a hug.
He didn't hug back.
"You look thin," she said. "You're not eating."
"I'm eating."
"Are you? Your father could never eat when he was stressed. He'd lose weight. You have his face. His mouth. His stubbornness."
"I know."
"I want you to know I'm proud of you."
Cody blinked.
"You're what?"
"Proud. You've come back. You've seen the light. You've—"
"I've seen what the Consortium does. I've seen what magic does. I've seen—" He stopped. Swallowed. Forced his face into something that wasn't disgust. "I've seen that you were right."
Inez studied him.
There was a moment—a long, terrible moment—where Cody was sure she knew.
Then she nodded.
"Good," she said. "Good."
Eddie stepped forward. His eyes moved to Amanda. To Maryam. Lingered.
"These are your... associates?"
"Girlfriends," Cody said.
Eddie's eyebrows rose.
"I didn't know you had it in you."
"A lot has changed."
"I can see that." Eddie's smile widened. He turned to Maryam. "And you're the Green Moon whore's sister. Interesting."
Maryam stepped forward. Her smile was wide. Her voice was warm.
"I'm the sister who didn't get the magic. I'm the sister who got left behind." She held out a hand. "But yeah. Kim's my twin. And yeah. I hate her guts."
Eddie shook her hand.
"I like this one," he said.
Cody's jaw tightened.
"You would."
---
Inez was concerned about Rachel.
Cody could tell.
She didn't say anything. She didn't mention it. But there was a tension in her shoulders. A tightness around her eyes. A way of looking at the door as if expecting someone to walk through it.
"When was the last time you talked to Rachel?" Cody asked.
Inez's face went still.
"Don't ask about Rachel."
"She's my sister."
"She's not your concern."
"She was always my concern. She was the only one who—"
"Cody." Inez's voice was sharp. "I said don't ask."
The room went quiet.
Eddie stepped between them.
"Mom's right. We don't talk about Rachel. Not now. Not ever."
"Why not?"
"Because she's gone. Because she's not coming back." Eddie's eyes were cold. "Because she made her choice. Just like you made yours."
"What choice?"
"The choice to walk into the vault. The choice to look at the Shine." Eddie's voice was flat. "She never came out."
Cody's blood went cold.
"The vault?"
"The Consortium vault. Where we keep the dangerous things. Where we keep the monsters." Eddie shrugged. "Rachel always was too curious. She loved magic. Like you loved magic. Like a child loves fire." He turned to Amanda. "You understand, don't you? How dangerous that is?"
Amanda's smile was thin.
"I understand."
"Good. Then we understand each other."
---
On the astral plane, Mandy found the door.
It was standing in the middle of the beach. Alone. Made of silver light. Pulsing with the same rhythm as the Shine.
"I think this is it," she said.
Beth stepped beside her. "Is it locked?"
"I don't know."
"Only one way to find out."
Mandy raised the key.
The light intensified.
And everything went white.
---
In Chicago, Mike Williamson was on the verge of a breakdown.
He stood in the living room of the Horny House, staring at the phone in his hand. The last message from Mandy had been three days ago. The last message from Beth had been four. The last message from Rick had been a photo of a cake he'd baked, captioned "first day in the new place."
Then nothing.
Casey was beside him. Her hand was on his arm. Her voice was steady.
"They're fine."
"You don't know that."
"I know our kids. I know they're smart. I know they're tough. I know—"
"Casey. They're in comas. We don't know anything."
She was quiet.
"I'm scared too," she said. "But we can't do anything from here. We can't. We have to wait. We have to trust."
"Trust who?"
"Trust them."
Mai appeared in the doorway.
She looked terrible. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Her clothes were wrinkled.
"I can't fix this," she said. "I can't fix any of this. I'm not a doctor. I'm not a witch. I'm not—"
"Mai—"
"Let me finish." She took a breath. "I can't fix this. But I can distract you. I can distract both of you. And I think... I think that's what you need right now."
Mike blinked.
"What are you saying?"
Mai stepped forward. Her hands found the hem of her shirt. She pulled it over her head.
"I'm saying we should have sex."
---
Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen island was slick with sweat and lube.
Mike was behind Mai, his hands on her hips, his cock buried inside her. She was on her hands and knees, moaning, her hair spread across the granite like a dark halo.
"Fuck," he said. "Fuck, Mai, you're so—"
"Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."
Casey was on the floor with Jess. The young Wand agent was on her back, her legs spread wide, her cunt glistening. Casey's mouth was on her clit, her tongue working in slow, deliberate circles.
"Oh god," Jess gasped. "Oh god, Casey, that's—"
"That's what?"
"That's—fuck—that's so good—"
Katrina was riding Ben's face.
The former Wand researcher had been with the Williamsons for months. She was still quiet. Still haunted. But right now, her head was thrown back and her hips were grinding against Ben's mouth.
"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, yes, yes—"
Ben's hands were on her thighs, holding her steady. His tongue was inside her, lapping at her cunt like she was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
The room was full of skin and breath and the wet sounds of fucking.
No one heard the front door open.
---
Yukio walked in first.
She still needed the cane. The injuries from the rift had never fully healed. But she was smiling. She always smiled.
Then she stopped.
"Ah," she said.
Hank stepped in behind her. Took one look. Turned to Yukio.
"This was Mai's idea," he said.
"Definitely Mai's idea."
Fatima was last.
She stood in the doorway. Took in the scene. Nodded slowly.
"The Green Moon would approve," she said.
Mai—still on her hands and knees, still getting fucked by Mike—flipped them off.
"Either join in or shut the fucking door."
Yukio laughed.
Fatima stepped inside. Closed the door behind her.
"What about my news?"
"What news?"
"About Kim. About Cody. About the plan."
"Can it wait?"
Fatima looked at the scene before her. At Mike and Mai. At Casey and Jess. At Ben and Katrina.
"No," she said. "I don't think it can."
She walked to the kitchen table. Sat down. Poured herself a glass of wine.
"Keep going," she said. "I'll talk while you finish."
Hank sat beside her.
Yukio sat across from them.
The sounds from the kitchen island continued.
And somewhere, in the distance, the light was getting brighter.