Chapter 5: Casey Joins the Shower
The bathroom door swung open with a soft creak, and Casey stepped into a wall of steam that smelled like sandalwood and sex.
She wasn't surprised.
The shower was a massive thing—slate tiles and rainfall showerheads and a glass enclosure that could have fit four people comfortably. Mike stood under the spray, his graying hair plastered to his forehead, his body pressed against Jan's from behind. His hands were cupped under her breasts, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm that made the water sluice off their bodies in sheets.
Jan had her palms flat against the tile, her red hair dark with moisture, her head thrown back against Mike's shoulder. Her mouth was open, her breath coming in sharp little gasps that echoed off the porcelain.
"Fuck," she moaned. "Fuck, Mike, right there—"
Casey leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms.
"Brigid's on her way," she said.
Mike's rhythm didn't falter. His eyes found hers through the glass, and he grinned—that same awkward, boyish grin he'd been giving her for twenty years.
"To Miami?"
"To Miami. Probably with Will and Sarah and the kids." Casey pushed off the doorframe and started unbuttoning her shirt. "She's not happy."
"She's never happy."
"She's especially not happy right now."
Jan turned her head, her green eyes glazed with pleasure but still sharp enough to catch the implication. "How not happy are we talking? 'I'll yell at you for five minutes' not happy, or 'I'll perform arcane mathematics that will literally unravel your DNA' not happy?"
Casey let her shirt fall to the floor. Her bra followed.
"The second one," she said. "Definitely the second one."
She stepped out of her jeans and underwear, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor. The steam wrapped around her like a second skin, and she felt the familiar heat building in her chest—not just arousal, but something deeper. Something that came from twenty years of loving the man in that shower and just as many years of loving the woman beside him.
Mike's eyes tracked her as she approached. Jan's did too.
"You joining us?" Jan asked.
"I'm thinking about it."
"Thinking's overrated."
Casey stepped into the shower.
The water was hot—almost too hot—and it cascaded over her shoulders, plastering her silver-streaked hair to her neck. She moved past Jan and positioned herself directly in front of Mike, her hands finding his chest.
"I'm worried about Shiv," she said.
Mike's hands slid from Jan's breasts to Casey's hips. His fingers dug into the soft flesh there, pulling her closer.
"I know."
"The Consortium has her. The new Consortium. They're not like the old one. They're not centralized. They're not predictable. They're just—"
"Evil?"
"Focused." Casey tilted her head up to look at him. "They have an agenda. And Shiv is part of it."
Mike leaned down and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, almost gentle, but there was heat underneath it. There was always heat underneath it.
"She's going to be fine," he said against her lips. "She's Shiv O'Connor. She survived the Troubles. She survived raising three kids who turned out to be some of the most powerful magic-users on the planet. She survived watching her husband die."
"She also survived you and me showing up at her door at three in the morning with a stolen police car and a bag of oranges."
Mike laughed. "She did. She made us breakfast."
"She made us tea and told us we were idiots."
"We were idiots."
Jan pressed herself against Casey's back, her breasts soft against Casey's shoulder blades, her hands sliding around to cup Casey's belly.
"We're all idiots," Jan murmured. "Lucky idiots."
Casey leaned back against her, letting the other woman take her weight. Jan's hands moved lower, fingers brushing through the wet hair between Casey's legs.
"Fuck," Casey breathed.
"You want to be distracted or you want to keep worrying?"
"Distracted."
"Good answer."
Jan's fingers parted her, found her clit with the easy familiarity of years of practice. Casey's hips jerked, and Mike's hands tightened on her waist, holding her steady.
"That's it," Jan whispered. "Let it go."
Mike knelt in front of her.
The shower floor was hard against his knees—she could see the brief flicker of discomfort on his face—but he didn't complain. He never complained. He just looked up at her with those kind, awkward eyes and parted her lips with his tongue.
Casey bucked.
Mike's mouth was hot and wet and relentless. He knew her body better than she knew it herself—knew the exact pressure, the exact rhythm, the exact angle that would make her come apart. He licked her in long strokes, then short ones, then circled her clit with the tip of his tongue while Jan's fingers slid inside her from behind.
"Fuck," Casey gasped. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"
Jan's other hand came up to cup her breast, fingers pinching her nipple hard enough to make her see stars.
"You're so wet," Jan said. "You're always so wet for us."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I love you."
Mike's tongue found a rhythm that made speech impossible. Casey's hands tangled in his wet hair, pulling him closer, grinding against his face. The water poured down on all three of them, washing away sweat and slick and the last lingering threads of fear.
She came with a cry that echoed off the tiles—sharp and high and utterly without shame. Mike kept licking her through it, drawing it out until she had to push him away, oversensitive and gasping.
"God," she managed. "Fuck."
Jan's fingers withdrew from her slowly, teasingly.
"You're welcome," she said.
Casey turned, still trembling, and kissed her. Jan's mouth opened under hers, and Casey tasted herself on Jan's tongue—musk and salt and something that was just Jan.
"Your turn," Casey said.
Jan raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You've been working hard."
"I have."
"You deserve a reward."
Casey sank to her knees. The water was even hotter down here, pooling around her thighs, and Mike's come-stained hand touched her shoulder as she positioned herself between Jan's legs.
Jan's cunt was pink and glistening, her clit swollen and sensitive. Casey leaned in and licked her from hole to clit in one long stroke, and Jan shuddered, one hand coming down to grip Casey's hair.
"Fuck," Jan groaned. "Casey, fuck."
Casey smiled against her and kept licking. She knew Jan's body almost as well as she knew Mike's—knew that Jan liked direct pressure on her clit, knew she liked two fingers inside her, knew she liked to be told what a dirty slut she was when she was close.
"You're such a dirty slut," Casey murmured between licks. "Letting me eat you out while my husband fucks you from behind."
Mike had moved behind Jan again, his erection pressing against the curve of her ass.
"You want me?" he asked.
"Yes," Jan gasped. "Yes, fuck me, please—"
He slid inside her in one slow thrust.
Jan cried out, her fingers tightening in Casey's hair, her hips pushing back against Mike's. Casey kept licking, matching her rhythm to Mike's thrusts, feeling every echo of his movement through Jan's body.
"Mandy got out," Casey said between licks. "She and the others. They're safe."
Jan's laugh turned into a moan. "You're—fuck—you're telling me this NOW?"
"I thought you'd want to know."
"I—oh god—I do. I do want to know. Fuck, keep doing that."
Mike's hips were slapping against Jan's ass now, the sound loud in the tiled space, water splashing everywhere. Casey slid two fingers into Jan's cunt alongside Mike's cock, feeling the stretch, the heat, the impossible tightness.
"Jesus, Casey—"
"You like that?"
"Yes. Yes, fuck, yes—"
Mike was close. Casey could tell by the way his breathing changed, the way his thrusts got sloppier. She crooked her fingers inside Jan, pressed her thumb against Jan's clit, and licked harder.
Jan came with a scream that was probably heard by the neighbors.
Mike followed a heartbeat later, burying himself deep, his hands gripping Jan's hips hard enough to leave bruises.
Casey sat back on her heels, covered in water and sex, and grinned up at both of them.
"We should probably get dressed," she said. "We have a plane to catch."
---
O'Hare International Airport was a zoo at two in the morning.
Flights were delayed, passengers were grumpy, and the only open coffee shop had a line that stretched around the terminal. Mike stood by the arrivals board, his duffel bag at his feet, his eyes scanning the crowd.
"Why are we here again?" he asked.
"Because Mandy's flight lands in ten minutes," Casey said. "And we're meeting everyone else here. Jan made the calls."
"Where is Jan?"
"Parking the car."
"And the others?"
Casey pointed.
Yukio was the first one Mike saw—her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, her cane tapping against the tile floor as she made her way toward them. She moved slowly, still recovering from her injuries, but her eyes were sharp and her smile was fierce.
Behind her came Cameron, his intense blue eyes scanning the terminal with the watchfulness of a soldier. He walked close to Jan, one hand hovering near the small of her back.
Hank and Fatima arrived together, arguing about something in low voices. Hank was carrying two giant cups of coffee, and Fatima was gesturing emphatically with her free hand.
"I'm just saying," Hank said, "if we're going to fight the Consortium, we should bring the good guns."
"We have the good guns," Fatima said. "We have all the guns. What we need is a plan."
"That's what Mandy's for."
"Mandy's twenty-three."
"And she's smarter than all of us combined, except maybe Rebecca."
Rebecca Winkle came next, her blonde hair pulled back in a practical clip, her blue eyes bright with interest. Charlie walked beside her, his hand in hers, his thin face creased with worry.
Amy and Jason Bryant brought up the rear. Amy was already talking—something about plot structure and character motivation—and Jason was nodding along, a fond smile on his face.
"There they are," Casey said.
Everyone turned to watch the arrivals gate.
The first person through was Calista.
She was six inches taller than her sisters, her silver hair catching the fluorescent lights, her golden eyes scanning the crowd. She spotted Casey and Mike immediately, and her face broke into a smile that was pure sunshine.
Behind her came Mandy, her shaggy brown hair a disaster, her clothes rumpled, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Jess was at her shoulder, still in her Wand suit, her hand never far from her gun. Ben followed, looking exhausted but determined, and Mai brought up the rear with Katrina, the two of them whispering about something.
Casey didn't wait.
She rushed forward, pushing through the crowd, and caught both her daughters in a bear hug that nearly knocked them off their feet.
"You're okay," she said into Mandy's hair. "You're both okay. Oh god, I was so worried—"
"Mom," Mandy managed. "Mom, we're fine. We're fine."
"I know. I know you're fine. I just—" Casey pulled back, her hands cupping Mandy's face. "Shiv. They took Shiv."
"We know."
"We're going to get her back."
"We know."
Mike joined them, wrapping his arms around all three of them—his wife, his biological daughter, his adopted half-elf daughter who was technically his granddaughter but who he'd never thought of as anything but his own.
"Bug," he said. "Callie."
"Dad," Mandy said.
Calista just hugged him tighter.
"I missed you," she said. "Both of you."
"We missed you too, sweetheart." Mike kissed her forehead. "Did you set anything on fire?"
"Just a siren."
"That's my girl."
---
Mai found her mother by the coffee stand.
Yukio was leaning on her cane, her face tired but her eyes bright. When she saw Mai, she smiled—that same wild, adventurous smile that had made her a legend in the monster-hunting community.
"You look like shit," Yukio said.
"Thanks, Mum."
"I mean it as a compliment."
Mai hugged her, careful not to jostle the healing injuries.
"I killed a siren," she said into her mother's shoulder. "With my bare hands."
Yukio pulled back, her eyes wide.
"You what?"
"Killed a siren. With my bare hands. She was trying to sing me into submission, and I just—" Mai made a twisting motion with her hands. "Snapped her wrist. Slammed her against a crate. Beat her to death."
Yukio stared at her for a long moment.
Then she laughed—a loud, proud, unapologetic laugh that turned heads across the terminal.
"That's my fucking daughter," she said.
Mai grinned. "All those self-defense lessons against magical threats. They paid off."
"I can see that." Yukio pulled her into another hug. "I'm so proud of you."
"Thanks, Mum."
"When this is over, I want to hear everything. Every detail. Every gory moment."
"I'll tell you over drinks."
"That's my girl."
---
Ben found his mother near the baggage claim.
Amy was sitting on a bench, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders, her blue eyes alight with curiosity. Jason sat beside her, reading something on his phone, a bemused expression on his face.
"Ben!" Amy stood up and hugged him. "Oh, honey, you look exhausted."
"I am exhausted."
"And you're covered in—is that siren blood?"
"It's not mine."
"Good." Amy pulled back and looked at him with a clinical eye. "So. Tell me about your sex life."
Ben choked.
"What?"
"Your sex life. You, Mandy, Jess. The triad." Amy's smile was innocent. "I'm working on a new novel, and I need to make sure the dynamics are realistic."
"Mom—"
"I'm not asking for specifics. Just general impressions. How's Jess dealing with sharing you? Is Mandy jealous? Are there any power dynamics I should be aware of?"
Jess appeared at Ben's elbow, a smirk on her face.
"She's just looking for material," Jess said. "You should be flattered."
"I'm not flattered. I'm mortified."
Jason looked up from his phone. "Just tell her something. She'll stop asking if you give her something."
"Something like what?"
"Give her a scene. But only if the scene requires it. If it's just for titillation, I'll be quite upset with you." Jason's eyes were still on his phone. "And make sure you have your hands free to receive a phone call if your agent reaches out about your new trilogy of books with a sexy detective."
"Wait, what? Trilogy? Agent? Ben has an agent?" Amy boggled for a moment. "Jason, what are you talking about? I mean—hang on, now I have to put my actual author hat on and ask: are the books any good? Are they like—are they good, actually good, or are they going to be the kind of thing that's reviewed by somebody who usually reviews tractor parts?"
"Honestly, they're a lot better than you'd think," Jason said. "The first one is even nominated for an Ignis Award. That's the one with the teenage talking cat detective, the teenage witch who hates him, and a horny manatee."
"I love it already."
Ben buried his face in his hands.
"I can't do this," he said. "I can't stand here while my mother asks me about my sex life and my father talks about—about—"
"Horny manatees?" Jess offered.
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I love you, but I also hate you."
Amy laughed and hugged him again.
"Fine," she said. "I'll stop. But only because you look like you're about to collapse."
"Thank you."
"Jess, you can give me the details later."
Jess grinned. "Anytime."
---
Jan found Mandy by the exit.
The younger woman was standing alone, staring out at the dark Miami sky, her phone clutched in her hand. She looked small, somehow—smaller than Jan remembered, more fragile.
"Hey," Jan said.
Mandy turned. Her eyes were red.
"Hey."
"You okay?"
"No."
"That's fair." Jan stood beside her, looking out at the same darkness. "We're going to get my Mam back."
"I know."
"Do you?"
Mandy was silent for a moment.
"I keep thinking about what they might be doing to her," she said. "Interrogation. Torture. Mind games. The Consortium doesn't play fair."
"No. They don't."
"And I keep thinking about all the things I should have said. All the things I should have done. I should have been faster. I should have figured out the trap before we walked into it. I should have—"
"Stop."
Mandy looked at her.
"You're not responsible for this," Jan said. "The Consortium is. They're the ones who took her. They're the ones who set the trap. They're the ones who are going to pay."
"We don't even know where she is."
"We will." Jan pulled out her phone. "That's why I called in every favor I have. Every contact. Every friend. We're going to find her, Mandy. And when we do, we're going to make them regret ever touching her. I mean, they took my mother, Mandy."
Mandy nodded slowly.
"There's something else," she said. "Something I should have thought of earlier."
"What?"
"We left Felicity and Bruce and Marty and Beth behind in Miami. To coordinate things."
"Good. They'll keep the home fires burning."
"And Brigid is on her way. She'll find someone there when she arrives."
"That's good. That's smart."
Mandy hesitated.
"Dad asked why I didn't ask Rick for help."
Jan's eyebrows rose. "Rick?"
"He's in Miami. He has a bakery there. He's been there for months." Mandy's voice was small. "And I didn't even think of him. I didn't even consider him."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. I just—" She shook her head. "I guess I forgot he existed. I've been so focused on Shiv and the Consortium and the sirens that I just—"
"You forgot your brother."
"He's my brother. My actual brother. And I forgot him."
Jan put a hand on her shoulder.
"It's okay," she said. "You've been under a lot of pressure. You've been running on adrenaline and fear and way too much coffee. You forgot. It happens."
"It shouldn't."
"No. But it does." Jan squeezed her shoulder. "Now. Let's fix it."
She pulled out her phone.
"What are you doing?" Mandy asked.
"Calling Rick."
---
The van pulled up to the Horny House at four in the morning, the other cars in the caravan following.
It was technically Mike and Casey's Chicago suburb home, but everyone who knew them called it the Horny House—the nickname Amy had coined years ago and no one had ever managed to shake. It was a two-story colonial with a big yard and a bigger basement, and it had seen more weirdness and more sex than any other house in the state.
"Why are we here?" Mike asked as they piled out of the van.
"Because it's the biggest," Hank said. "We need space for everyone. And you have three bathrooms."
"That's not a good reason."
"It's a great reason."
Mike sighed.
Casey was already unlocking the door, the cats winding around her ankles as soon as she stepped inside. Rembrandt, the massive Maine Coon, and VanGogh, the black tomcat, both yowled their displeasure at being woken so late.
"Hey, babies," Casey cooed. "Did you miss us?"
The cats ignored her and went back to sleep.
Fatima was already setting up a command center in the living room, her laptop open, her phone pressed to her ear. She was speaking rapid Arabic, gesturing with her free hand. Hank went to find the coffee maker.
Rebecca and Charlie took over the dining room, spreading out maps and documents and a variety of specialized equipment that hummed with magical energy. Amy and Jason claimed the kitchen, where Amy immediately started making a pot of tea.
Yukio settled into the big armchair in the corner, her cane propped against the arm, and pulled out her phone to start texting the producer of her show.
Cameron went to check the perimeter.
Jan and Mandy stood in the hallway, watching the chaos.
"So," Mandy said. "What's the next move?"
"We wait," Jan said. "We plan. We figure out where they took Shiv and how to get her back."
"That's not a plan. That's a goal."
"It's a start."
Mandy nodded.
"There's something else," she said. "Something I've been thinking about since the warehouse."
"What?"
"The sirens. They mentioned something. Something about my research. About the Dark Market."
Jan's eyes narrowed.
"They knew we were coming. They knew we were investigating. They set a trap specifically for us."
"And that means?"
"It means they have a source. Someone on the inside." Mandy's voice was hard. "Someone who knows what we're doing and who we're working with."
"Or someone who's been watching you. Tracking you."
"Either way, we have a problem."
Jan was quiet for a moment.
"We'll figure it out," she said. "We always do."
"Always?"
"Always."
Mandy looked at her—at this woman who had been her parents' best friend for as long as she could remember, who had been on the front lines of every magical mess that had ever touched their family.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?"
"For being here. For calling everyone. For—" She gestured vaguely at the house. "For this."
Jan smiled.
"You're family," she said. "And family takes care of each other. And Shiv is my mother."
The words hit Mandy like a physical blow.
Shiv had said the same thing. That first day in Miami, when Mandy had been nervous and awkward and desperate to prove herself. "You're family now, Mandy Williamson. And family takes care of each other."
She swallowed hard.
"When this is over," she said. "When we get Shiv back. I'm going to hold a dinner. All of us together. Like we used to."
"I like the sound of that."
"And I'm going to call Rick."
"Good."
"And I'm going to tell him I'm sorry for forgetting."
"He'll forgive you."
"You think so?"
"Family always forgives."
Mandy wanted to believe her.
She wanted to believe that Shiv was out there somewhere, counting the minutes until they found her. She wanted to believe that the Consortium would pay for what they'd done. She wanted to believe that after this was over, everything would be okay.
But she'd seen the sirens. She'd felt their song.
And she knew, deep down, that this was only the beginning.