Home for Horny Monsters - Book 7 - Cover

Home for Horny Monsters - Book 7

Copyright© 2022 by Annabelle Hawthorne

Chapter 18: Family Bonds

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 18: Family Bonds - The mysterious Order comes to the Radley house to ask Mike for help with an incident in Hawaii. Story contains monstergirls, hand-holding, and mermaid boobs.

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Fairy Tale   Humor   Mystery   Extra Sensory Perception   Paranormal   Ghost   Magic   Demons   Dolls   Group Sex   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   Double Penetration   Exhibitionism   Facial   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Tit-Fucking  

The forest was little more than a blur, finally giving way to a large slab of rocks that extended nearly a hundred feet in the air. When Mike Radley stepped through the damaged hangar doors, it was to the sight of Bigfoot, Yuki, and Dana huddled up behind a concrete pillar that was now supported by an ice wall nearly ten feet thick. Dead mercenaries littered the area, and the remainder had holed up toward the back of the room in what looked like a control center. When Dana poked her head around the corner, a rifle cracked and she barely dodged it. Along the back wall, a cluster of shadows had captured Mace, the magical weapon motionless beneath the dark tendrils.

He frowned. There was no way this last group of men should be capable of holding off Yuki, let alone the three of them. Still unseen, he took a moment to scan the room to see what the actual problem was. He spotted it when he saw that Yuki’s ice seemed to truncate in a straight line that crossed the hangar bay. With no effort at all, he examined the magic in the room and saw the truth.

Crimson runes blazed defiantly in his vision, combined into a giant, magical circuit that created a disruptive field. The runes weren’t just inscribed into the surface of the walls, but ran deep beneath the ground. If Ratu were here, she could probably disable them by manipulating earth and stone.

The fairies circled up on him to hide inside his collar, and he felt a surge of ice pass through his skull. He raised the Grimoire up in front of his face to catch the bullet that came his way, then moved to crouch behind a pile of rubble. His heart raced as gunfire shattered the concrete around him, but he swallowed his fear and examined the book.

The Grimoire was indestructible, and the round had flattened itself along the cover. Mike peeled it off with the tip of his finger and then studied the tome. He thought back to all he knew about his own magic and what Beth had told him. While running to the secret facility, he had felt the magic of the land at his back. Something was happening inside of him, some deep epiphany that was about to rise to the forefront. By opening this book, there was a chance he was about to throw away something precious.

If he wanted, he could scorch the earth and leave nothing but ruin in his wake. But that was a path he didn’t dare tread. What sort of spell should he ask the Grimoire for?

“I need the power to protect,” he whispered, and the book obeyed. The pages flipped open to reveal several variations of spells that would protect him from harm. He studied these for a moment, then looked across the room. Shaking his head, he looked at the book again.

“To protect others.” The pages flipped some more, and then his precognition pulled his attention to a small projectile that bounced off the stack and landed a couple of feet away. He scowled at the grenade and his magic shoved it into the air with a burst of light and static. The grenade burst halfway back toward its sender, peppering the area with shrapnel and causing Mike’s ears to ring.

The Grimoire’s spells swam before his vision, each one calling to him. He didn’t like how some of them whispered seductively in his ears, promising him their power without revealing the cost. The book actually trembled in his fingers, causing him to pause.

A shadow creature bubbled up from the ground in front of him, forming a pair of bladed limbs. Mike glanced up at it in anger as the manifestation raised its arms and took a step toward him.

“NO,” he said, and motes of light leapt from his body, punching holes in the dark spectre. Turning his attention back to the book, he felt his anger growing. He didn’t feel like fucking around with the Grimoire any longer. Why hadn’t Beth mentioned the whispering to him? Surely she would have brought it up.

Or maybe she couldn’t. She had warned him that the power was addictive, a free ride to greatness. Perhaps she hadn’t heard the whispers, or the promises the book made. Was it the book itself, or the spells within that threatened to trap him?

“I see,” he muttered, understanding the trap that had been laid. The Grimoire of Morgan Le Fey was a compendium of power without judgment. He knew very little about the ancient sorceress, but understood she would have no reason to omit spells because of the danger they posed. Ultimately, it was the burden of the person using it.

Another grenade came. This time, a lightning spider jumped off his shoulder and grabbed onto the projectile, carrying it back the way it had come. Mike winced at the loud boom, then turned more pages.

It took some digging, but at last he found a spell that didn’t promise power, didn’t whisper to him like some insidious Shadow Man. It was a spell powered by his own magic and desire to protect the ones he loved. Rising from his hiding spot, he stepped to the left to dodge a quick burst of rifle fire and curled the fingers of his left hand upward.

His magic fled into the floor, raising a wall of silver and gold light that stretched to the ceiling. A squadron of shadows by the wall exploded into nothingness at the appearance of the wall, and fired rounds fell harmlessly on the other side. The others stepped away from the concrete pillar, looking at Mike in relief. He rose from his hiding spot, his whole body feeling strangely hollow. Though his intent was noble, he had stepped outside of his magical boundaries, and the price for doing so had left him drained.

“Thanks,” said Yuki, then made a fist and created a large icicle which she pounded into the wall. The crimson circuits flickered in response, then sent out an arc of magic that tried to push her away. Dana ran to Mace’s aid, cutting away the shadows to free the magical weapon. Bigfoot stood, his fur matted with blood. The cryptid moved toward the hangar door.

“The kids already escaped,” he said, stumbling for the exit. “We need to catch up to them.”

“Shit.” Mike looked back at the opening. “Should we all go?”

“No.” Yuki slammed a chunk of ice into the wall again, and the circuits faltered once more. “They’ll only pursue us and make things worse. Once I break these runes, we’ll make sure they can’t.”

Dana crossed the room to Mike’s side. Her hair had turned gray, and there was a dangerous hunger in her eyes. “Tick Tock is chasing some of them through the other levels,” she said. “Death and Cyrus are outside with the kids, but Elizabeth went after them.”

“Fuck.” Mike looked at Yuki. “Do you guys have this?”

“We do now.” The kitsune winked at him. “You probably don’t want to be around to see what I do to these guys.” Yuki glanced at Dana. “Or her, for that matter.”

Dana said nothing. However, she did lick her lips.

Mike nodded, trying hard to keep his gaze away from the corpses at the edge of his vision. It was clear that many of them were no longer intact. He caught up to Bigfoot, who was struggling to walk.

“You look like shit,” he said.

“Eat a dick.” Bigfoot snorted. “The last time I got shot this many times was when some idiot mistook me for a buffalo.”

“I thought bullets couldn’t hurt you?”

Bigfoot shrugged. “There were a lot of bullets tonight. Some of them were bigger than others. It’s a numbers game.”

“Will you be okay?”

The cryptid nodded. “The forest takes care of its own. Its magic will help me. Go find the kids. I’ll catch up when I can.”

Dana ran up to Mike. “Yuki says you’ll need this.” She placed a small, crystalline compass in his hand. “It’s pointing at Cyrus’ bracelet.”

“Thank you.” Mike looked at the direction the compass pointed and started running. A dark mass of arachnids chittered in frustration as they arrived at the facility only for Mike to leave in another direction. Their sounds of protest faded behind him as he ran into the forest.

He was perhaps half a mile into the woods when he heard a scream, followed by an explosion to his left. Stopping in his tracks, he turned and saw the eerie glow of flames across the treetops. The compass pointed away from the flames, but the thought of following the compass filled him with an icy dread that made him sick to his stomach.

Growling in frustration, he turned toward the blast and sprinted toward the flames as if his own life depended on it. All four fairy girls flew ahead of him, illuminating the trees. Mike could feel the forest crying out in pain as distant trees ignited. It didn’t take long before he found himself in another valley, this time with a figure shrieking on the ground and sending flames in every direction. From where he stood, he could tell that it was a woman who was missing most of her face.

Staring in horror, he watched as she sent ropey blasts of hellfire out in a circle, then rolled onto her back and clutched her skull in pain. Her cries were garbled, due to her missing lower jaw. The flames were avoiding the woman, but had spread outward into the forest. Uncertain why his magic had led him here, a single word from the other side of the valley cut through the woman’s screams.

“Grace!”

“Cyrus,” Mike whispered, then ran a wide circle around whoever was casually burning down the world. The flames made the terrain difficult, but he managed to circumvent them. The woman was unaware of his presence, and he crossed the valley to find a wall of smoke. Covering his mouth, he walked into the burning woods toward the sound of the mage’s voice.

“Grace! Get down from there!”

When Mike found Cyrus, the old mage was on his knees at the base of a tree, clinging to it for support. Up above, the Arachne was staring at the flames in terror. Cyrus was covered in blood and ash, his features ghastly in the fire’s light.

Grace had climbed up into the tree and was nearly fifteen feet off the ground. She was panting with exertion, clutching Jenny tight against her chest. When Cyrus screamed again, the Arachne acted like she couldn’t even hear him. Flames from a nearby tree caused the child to hiss and scoot away.

“She’s disoriented! Fire blinds her kind.” Mike moved to the base of the tree. Cyrus turned to look at Mike, his eyes shimmering with thick tears.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Cyrus said, then pointed up. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. We were fighting a witch and I got knocked out. I think Grace dragged me here, but got scared and now I can’t get her down.”

“She might not be able to hear you.” Mike frowned at Cyrus. The old man was in rough shape. Looking up at his child, he could see nothing but terror in her eyes. “Does Callisto have the bracelet?”

“Yes.” Cyrus groaned and leaned forward as if he was going to puke. “I thought I could get them out, I—”

“You did good.” Mike put his hand on the tree and closed his eyes. He could sense the tree’s fear of the flames, but there was nothing he could do for it. The Grimoire whispered softly to him, so he tossed the book on the ground.

Give me back my child, he said, pushing his will into the tree. The tree trembled in response, and then the large branch supporting Grace shifted away from her and she lost her balance. The Arachne was silent as she fell, and when Mike grabbed onto her, she let out a hiss and bit him.

“It’s okay, sweetie. Daddy’s here.” He clutched his child tight and pulled the compass from his pocket. It pointed back in the direction he had come, which would also take him away from the flames. Mike tucked the compass in his pocket and knelt to pick up the Grimoire. When he looked at Cyrus, it was to see the old man steadying himself as if he was drunk. “You need a hand?”

“Go, I’ll keep up.” The mage chuckled and spat, briefly vanishing behind a waft of smoke. “Promise I won’t just lie down and let those flames burn me.”

There was smoke everywhere, and Mike lost his way more than once. The fairies left the safety of his collar and glowed brightly from above as they took him back in the direction of the field. When he arrived, it was to see that the woman who had been screaming and spewing hellfire in every direction was being tended to by a dark figure who rose at his approach.

“Mike Radley.” Elizabeth glared at him with eyes he didn’t recognize. Her skin was peeled up in several places, revealing dark scales beneath. Ominous shadows clung to her like leaking oil, slowly pooling beneath her feet. With the flames at his back, Mike watched as his own shadow shivered and melted, flowing in the witch’s direction.

“Elizabeth.” Mike kept his face neutral. “You’re looking well.”

“How are you even here?” The witch glanced down at the woman on the ground, who was now silent. Mike realized that the faceless woman had been wrapped up tightly in shadows like a cocoon. “I thought you were in Hawaii?”

Sensing an opportunity, Mike took it. “Didn’t you know?” He summoned his magic, creating an electrical light show of dancing sparks all across his body. “My name is Mike Radley and I’m the fastest man alive.”

“I’m glad you’ve kept your sense of humor.” Elizabeth stuck out her hand and a staff burst through the ground at her feet. Atop of the stick was a large ruby held in place by coiled roots. “It’ll give me something else to carve from you other than your heart.”

“There’s only one of you and eight of us.”

The witch sneered. “All I see is a dead man and his child.”

Mike looked back to make sure that Cyrus had kept up with him. The man was in a crouch, using his hands to keep from toppling over. Unless the old mage was faking an injury, it was clear that he wasn’t a threat.

From above, the fairies descended en masse, landing on top of Mike’s head. They were bouncing up and down on his scalp, blowing raspberries at the witch. It was clear that he wasn’t going to impress Elizabeth with numbers alone.

“I’ve also got this.” Mike held up the Grimoire with one hand. Elizabeth faltered for a moment, her eyes dropping to the tome.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, her gaze shifting to Grace. “If we fight, I will try to kill your child. You can pretend to have the upper hand all you want, but we both know that nobody here can help you. Every single one of them is a liability.”

“Hardly. They’re my strength.” His magic churned in approval of his words, but he was painfully aware how little of it remained. The Grimoire started whispering to him again, but he ignored it. “You and your people are always underestimating us, and it’s only going to continue.”

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something, but the bundled figure behind her let out a cry of agony. The woman paused, clearly fighting the urge to look back. Mike recognized it as concern, but was a little surprised to see it on the witch’s face. There was only one person in the world he knew of that she could care that much about.

“That’s Sarah, isn’t it?”

“You are not to speak of her.” Elizabeth’s eyes became wild. “You killed her.”

“Technically, a plant did that, not me. But that’s her soul in there now, right?” Mike narrowed his eyes. “Which means she’s alive. The two of you have a chance to walk away. So what will it be? Do we put each other’s children in danger, or agree to—”

Elizabeth thrust her staff forward, and the shadows beneath her ripped free of the ground, forming into serrated spikes. Opal burst free from her flask, shoving Mike and Grace away as the slime girl caught the bladed barrage. Though unharmed, the slime girl was now tangled up in the rigid shadows.

Mike leapt away from the next attack, and a third one that followed. His magic churned in alarm as dark flames circled around his feet, sucking the heat from his body.

The fairies flew at the witch, but were immediately batted aside with the staff. Mike ran for the edge of the clearing, but the ground was ripped away from beneath his feet. He stumbled and fell, clutching Grace to his body. The little Arachne hissed loudly, her eyes scrunched up tight. An ominous wind blew across Mike’s back, and he rolled over to see Elizabeth standing over him, an imperious grin on her face.

“It looks like you weren’t the fastest man alive after all.” The skin of her lips split, revealing more of the macabre vision that hid beneath the surface. She cackled and held up a hand full of dark fire, ready to smash it down on the two of them.

Then the spiders came. Dozens of them at once, ballooning through the air on silken strands. The ones that landed near her wrist were immediately consumed by the flames, but the rest landed on her shoulders and head, immediately scurrying around and finding anything they could bite.

THE BROOD MUST SURVIVE, they declared as one. Gossamer strands stuck in the witch’s hair as hundreds more of them came, landing on the witch and immediately seeking out sensitive flesh.

Elizabeth flinched, then let out a cry of pain and grabbed her side. She slammed her staff on the ground and covered herself in flames, but that just forced the spiders to seek refuge anywhere they could fit. When Elizabeth screamed in fury, several of them crawled inside her nose and mouth.

Somewhere through the smoke, Cyrus let out a strangled cry of his own, but Mike couldn’t see what was wrong. He got to his feet and ran away from Elizabeth, but looked back to see a dark carpet of arachnids had emerged from the forest, the swarm caught up to him at last. They flowed across Sarah’s new body, and she struggled to free herself from her mother’s magical bonds as they sank their teeth into her as well.

Looking away from Elizabeth and the burning forest, Mike ran with Grace toward safety. He made it to the treeline and then threw himself to the ground to avoid a blast of hot green fire. When he got to his feet, it was to see the witch standing over him with shadows stretched out behind her like wings. Large tendrils had sprouted from her shoulders, each of them wrapped securely around the struggling form of Sarah. The witch’s face and hands were bloody, the skin already swelling from all the bites.

They looked at each other for less than a moment, but an understanding was reached. There were no more words to exchange as Elizabeth raised her staff and pointed it in his direction. The book practically screamed for his attention, but Mike recognized the danger. Even if he had time to open it and cast something, there would be a price down the road, one far worse than this.

“NO,” he said, and the book obeyed. Elizabeth froze up for a moment, as if in obedience. Shaking her head, she sneered and finished casting her spell.

Instead of closing his eyes, Mike faced his death head-on, clutching his child tightly in defiance. Elizabeth was so focused on killing him that she didn’t sense the massive pine tree that ripped through the clearing like a spear, impaling her torso and yanking her body away into the burning darkness. Elizabeth’s shadow tendrils were dragged along behind her, carrying Sarah away as well.

Blinking in awe, Mike turned to see Bigfoot standing nearly forty feet away, panting with exertion and covered in pine needles. The cryptid limped over to Mike.

“Critical hit,” he grunted, then fell on his butt and sighed. “You run too damned fast.”

“How did you find us?”

Bigfoot chuckled. “This is the forest. Nothing happens here without me knowing it.”

“You followed the spiders.”

“Yeah I did.” The sasquatch held out his arms. “Can I hold her?”

Mike handed Grace to her uncle and then went after Elizabeth. Roughly six feet of the splintered trunk had passed through her body, and she looked back at him with glassy eyes. The staff she had clutched was broken on the ground next to her, the gemstone shattered. Mike noticed the dark crystal around her neck and recognized it immediately. He pulled it off of her corpse and studied it. When he saw no soul lingering inside its depths, he shoved it in his pocket.

Of Sarah, there was no trace. With the flames building even higher, Mike went back into the clearing and managed to round up the fairies once more. They helped him find Opal, who had become lost in the smoke. The slimegirl went back inside her flask, and Mike tucked her away.

Eventually, he found Cyrus. The old man was leaning against a tree, clutching his head in his hands. Mike knelt down next to the mage and tentatively put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s me,” he said, and Cyrus looked up and stared at him in disbelief.

“You came back for me?” Cyrus looked past Mike, then around at the burning woods. “Where’s the child?”

“Safe. She’s safe now.” Mike held out a hand. “We need to get you to safety, too. Can you walk?”

“Are the spiders gone?”

“They don’t like the smoke.” Mike coughed and covered his mouth. “And neither do I, for that matter.”

The mage took Mike’s hand and rose. They navigated the scorched clearing and met up with Bigfoot, who cradled his niece against his chest. Her eyes were closed, and she clutched Jenny in her arms with her legs curled together into a tight ball.

Mike pulled the compass from his pocket and pointed in the direction of Callisto. The group made their way into the woods and found the boy nearly half an hour later. The centaur stood next to Death, his eyes going wide upon seeing Mike.

“Dad!” He galloped forward and hugged Mike so hard that they both nearly fell over.

“Hello, Mike Radley.” Death adjusted his cowl and brushed some ash from his shoulders. “I found the boy while hunting a witch. Did you know she can fly? That’s how she got away from me.”

“Don’t worry. Her bark was worse than her bite,” Mike replied, his own tears mixing with Callisto’s. When they finally broke apart, Mike noticed the cut on his son’s face.

“Cyrus said it might scar,” the boy said, looking at the mage.

Mike knew that he was right. This was the scar he had seen on his son’s face in the future. He turned to look at the mage, who stood there silently, watching. Their eyes met and Mike was suddenly aware of the man’s bleak condition, of what Cyrus had sacrificed for his kids.

“You saved my children,” Mike said.

“Not quite yet.” Cyrus smiled weakly. “We need to get them home.”

Mike nodded and looked at Bigfoot and Death. “Can you get them home? I want to go back and make sure the others are okay. We’re going to need them in Hawaii.”

“This is a job we can do, but...” Death looked hesitantly at Cyrus. “I don’t know how to ask this delicately. What would you like me to do about him?”

Mike looked at Cyrus, the man pale in what light there was to be had. Grace opened her eyes and turned to look at them. She pointed at her dog tags.

“Papa Cyrus,” she said.

Mike stared at his daughter in astonishment, then looked at Cyrus. “She speaks?”

Cyrus nodded. “Apparently. Also ... she may have picked up some words you don’t approve of, though.”

“Fucking hell,” Grace added.

Mike took a step toward Cyrus and bowed his head. “Would you do me the honor of watching my children just a little bit longer? I know you’re tired and deserve some rest, but ... I wouldn’t mind having an extra set of eyes on them while I’m gone. There’s a really comfy chair in the living room that overlooks the front yard. It’s my favorite place to catch a nap.” He took a deep breath and then let it out. “My house is your house, Master Cyrus.”

Cyrus smiled and let out a sigh. It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said.

“Thank you.” Mike looked at Bigfoot. “Please help them get home, and send word to Zel immediately. Death, they’re going to need you in Hawaii, so head there right away, please.”

“After some tea?” asked the Reaper. “I wouldn’t mind fifteen minutes to myself after this ordeal.”

Mike chuckled. “Of course,” he replied. “But tea might be better with friends, and you sure have a lot of them in Hawaii who could use a cup, I bet.”

“Oh, I see what you’re doing.” Death’s eye flames flickered in delight. “I bet they would appreciate a good green tea to help lift their spirits.”

“They really would.” Mike looked at Callisto. “I’ll be home later.”

Callisto sniffled, then wiped snot from his nose and nodded. Mike took the tracking bracelet from Callisto and handed him the compass.

“Here. This will help you find me in case you need it, just like we found you.” Mike rose and took a step back. He wanted to go with his kids, but they would be safe once Bigfoot took them through the trees. “I’ll see you in a bit. I need to go help Aunt Dana and Aunt Yuki kick a little ass, okay?”

The motley group left, quickly vanishing between a pair of trees. Mike turned back toward the facility and started jogging; his legs were sore yet his heart full.

When he got back to the facility, the sounds of gunfire had already diminished. Uncorking Opal’s bottle, he poured the slimegirl onto the ground so she could form next to him.

“Let’s clean this place up,” he declared, and then walked into the hangar with the fairy girls in tow.


Beth stood on the beaches of Paradise, her eyes on the massive balls of fire in the sky that Ratu had created so everyone could see. Along the sand, merfolk came and went as Leilani’s colony checked in with intel regarding Francois’ forces. A cabana made of stone had been constructed by Pele, who sat at a massive table beneath it. A three-dimensional map of the island and surrounding waters had been built in the middle, with tiny figurines which represented various ships and undead hordes approaching the island.

At the head of the table stood Tink. The table was big enough for her to easily walk along, and she was spouting half-formed words and gibberish while Kisa tried to translate for anyone who might have been confused. At first, nobody had taken the goblin seriously, but after Tink had bitten three different merfolk and headbutted an obstinate knight, people had at least learned to get out of her way.

“Check here,” she shouted at a merman holding a spear while stamping her foot in a region of ocean about a mile south of Olowalu. “Big dip mean bone cereal!”

“She thinks there may be undead in that depression,” Kisa offered.

The merman nodded politely at Kisa and jogged off to give orders to a team in the water. So far, Tink had identified nearly three dozen hiding spots based on topography alone. On a computer screen mounted to a pillar was meteorological data being streamed directly from satellites that Eulalie had accessed using a bunch of techno skills that made no sense to Beth.

Shoved up against the wall of the cabana was something that looked only vaguely familiar as a sniper rifle. Tink had removed the tripod from the gun and had been doing something weird with the barrel. When she wasn’t busy barking orders, she would occasionally chew on what looked like a massive bullet and then study it with her goggles. Beth had no idea what that was about and didn’t feel like asking.

Even the sight of Tink had set the Order on edge, as goblins hadn’t been seen in over two decades and they were thought to be extinct. Beth wondered how many of them had even noticed Abella keeping an eye on things from the nearest building hastily assembled by both Ratu and Pele. The gargoyle’s main job right now was to listen for dissent or attempts at mutiny.

With Paradise in shambles, the naga and the goddess had quickly thrown together a staging area made of rock and earth after gaining the merfolk’s allegiance for the fight ahead. The buildings were bare bones, with a few windows for ventilation and a thatched roof cobbled together by the merfolk. However, these structures qualified for portals, which the rats had quickly chewed into the walls. Right now, Order personnel with family on the island were already helping their people evacuate. Apparently, the Order had bunkers hidden across the islands for scenarios similar to these. Sadly, these spaces were primarily for VIPs who were going into hiding, which meant they were already packed full.

While the rats opened portals, a few members of the Order had suggested that they be connected in a manner to allow the entire Order to assemble and send an army. Tink had immediately shot this idea down.

“Stupid fucks attack home when husband help them,” she had declared. “Probably attack Tink while defending island, make big trouble. Tink smarter than big idiots, anyway.”

Beth had agreed with this assessment. In fact, members of the Council, the governing body for the Order, had already made contact with personnel at Paradise in an attempt to do just that. Ingrid had briefly informed some guy in Europe that the situation was far too dire to try and wrestle control from the Radley family and hung up on him. Wallace had been contacted twice after the phone call with Ingrid had gone awry, but he had pretended that the connection was bad and hung up on them.

Aurora had immediately ordered Paradise personnel to ignore all phone calls from anyone who wasn’t her or a one of their direct family members, which her staff obeyed. A small team of mages then tried to coerce a group of rats into opening a portal directly to one of the Order’s main facilities in Europe. Eulalie and Reggie both had planned for this contingency in advance. After being bribed with cheese and crackers, the rats had opened a portal to the basement of an abandoned warehouse in Wyoming, then immediately collapsed the portal after the mages went through.

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