Chapter 20: The Family Welcome
The living room had transformed while they'd been lost in each other. Floating lanterns drifted near the ceiling, casting prismatic light across the enchanted velvet couch that had shifted from autumn rust to deep forest green. The grand piano sat half-played, its rune-etched keys still faintly glowing from whoever had touched them last. Someone had left a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table, its steam curling into lazy shapes that might have been a lullaby before dissolving into nothing.
Katrina emerged from the bedroom on unsteady legs, her dark hair a tangled mess, her body still humming with the aftershocks of what Mike and Casey had done to her. She wore one of Mike's old t-shirts, threadbare and soft, falling to her mid-thigh. Her bare feet padded across the hardwood as she made her way toward the living room, following the sound of voices.
"There she is." Mandy's voice carried a teasing lilt. "The woman of the hour. Or should I say, the woman of the morning."
Katrina's cheeks flushed, but she lifted her chin. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Uh-huh." Beth was sprawled across one end of the couch, naked as the day she was born, holding a mug of coffee like it was a lifeline. "Sure. And I'm not covered in hickeys."
She wasn't, but the point stood. The entire family had a casual relationship with clothing that Katrina was still adjusting to. Calista sat in an armchair, wearing nothing but a silk robe that had fallen open to reveal a long, pale leg. She looked like a painting come to life.
"Leave her alone," Calista said, her voice warm. "She's allowed to have a moment."
"A moment?" Mandy grinned. "She's had several moments. I heard them through the walls. Dad's not exactly quiet when he's—"
"Mandy." Casey's voice cut through from the kitchen doorway, carrying a fresh pot of coffee. "Be nice."
"I'm being supportive! There's a difference."
Beth snorted. "There's no difference between you being supportive and you being nosy. They're the same thing."
"At least I'm honest about it."
Katrina found herself smiling despite her embarrassment. She sank onto the couch beside Beth, who immediately swung her legs to make room, draping them across Katrina's lap. The casual intimacy of the gesture made something warm bloom in Katrina's chest.
Where had these people come from? This impossible family that welcomed her like she'd always been theirs?
"We were just discussing," Calista said, her silver eyes glinting with mischief, "what to call you now."
"Call me?"
"Yeah." Mandy leaned forward, her shaggy brown hair falling across her face. "Like, are you our aunt? Our sister? Our cousin? Because you're Dad's friend's daughter, but also you're dating our parents, so—"
"Mandy." Casey's voice was sharp, but her eyes were soft. "She doesn't need a title. And we're not dating her."
"I'm just asking! It's important for the family tree."
"There is no family tree," Beth said. "There's a family wreath. It's all tangled and circular."
Calista laughed, the sound like wind chimes. "She's not wrong. Between time travel and adoption and whatever else, our family tree is more like a family knot."
Katrina pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest. "I like it," she said quietly. "The tangle. I spent so long alone in the void. This—" She gestured vaguely at the chaos around her. "This is overwhelming. But it's also the most alive I've felt in thirty years."
The room went quiet. Even Mandy's perpetual smirk softened.
"Alright," Casey said, setting down the coffee pot. She crossed to the couch, crouching in front of Katrina. Her hand found Katrina's knee, warm and grounding. "Then we'll make sure you never feel alone again."
Katrina's throat tightened. She nodded, not trusting her voice.
"Speaking of which." Mike emerged from the hallway, now wearing actual pants and a rumpled t-shirt. He was holding his phone. "I just got off the phone with Aunt Callie. She's on her way over with some archives we requested."
"And Jules?" Casey asked, straightening.
"Confirmed. Katrina's next session is tomorrow at noon."
Katrina blinked. "I didn't know I had a session scheduled."
"You do now," Casey said. "Jules wants to make sure you're adjusting well. And she has some techniques that might help with the residual—" She paused, searching for the word.
"Madness," Katrina finished. "You can say it. Thirty years in a timeless void does things to your head."
"We're working on that," Mike said, his voice gentle. "We're going to fix it."
"Fix me?"
"Help you heal," he corrected. "There's a difference."
Beth's hand found Katrina's, squeezing. "We've all got stuff. You're not broken. You're just... processing."
"Speaking of processing." Mandy hopped up, practically vibrating with energy. "I called Amy. She and Jason are totally down for a swap this weekend. She said she's been bugging you for two months about another swap.."
Mike choked on his coffee. "She—what?"
"You've heard the rumors," Mandy said, grinning. "Mom and Dad's legendary bedroom prowess. Amy and Jason have been swapping with them for years. You know how she is—she writes for a living, she's got a whole fantasy novel series about—"
"I know what she writes about," Mike interrupted, his face reddening. "I've read them."
"All of them?"
"That's not the point."
"Amy's books are very popular," Calista observed, her voice dry. "I believe she calls you and Casey her 'inspiration.'"
Casey sighed. "I'm going to kill Jan. This is her fault."
"Jan hasn't done anything," Beth pointed out.
"Jan told everyone. Twenty years ago. She's been telling everyone ever since." Casey shook her head. "I love her, but sometimes—"
"Sometimes you want to strangle her?" Katrina offered.
"Exactly."
The conversation drifted, casual and warm. Mike made more phone calls in the background while Casey filled Katrina in on the details of the upcoming archive visit. Aunt Callie had apparently been digging through Golden Wand records, looking for any trace of Elizabeth Harlow's disappearance.
"She vanished after finishing her book," Casey explained. "The published version—the one that went out to the public—was heavily redacted. But the manuscript in the Wand vault is the real deal. Aunt Callie thinks there might be clues in it about where Elizabeth went."
Katrina's chest tightened. Her mother. The thought of seeing her again, of finding her, was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Do you think she's still alive?" Katrina asked, her voice small.
Casey's expression softened. "I think there's a chance. And that's more than you had before."
Across the room, Mike ended another call. "Jan and Cameron are coming over tonight," he announced. "Jan's been spreading the news to the Green Moon network. Apparently there are some rumors about Aemelia's recent movements."
Calista sat up straighter, her robe falling open further. "What kind of rumors?"
"Nothing concrete. Just whispers. Someone matching her description was seen in the Pacific Northwest about six months ago." Mike shrugged. "It's not much, but it's a lead. And that's not counting that I chatted with her in the driveway two nights ago."
"A lead is better than nothing," Katrina said.
"Exactly." Mike's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. "That's Aunt Callie. She's five minutes out."
The room shifted into motion. Mandy and Beth started gathering clothes—a half-hearted attempt at decorum that seemed to be more about the arrival than the occasion. Calista actually tied her robe shut. Casey disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a tray of fresh coffee and pastries that Katrina suspected she'd conjured from somewhere.
Katrina stayed on the couch, watching the chaos unfold around her. The energy was infectious. These people moved through life like a whirlwind, and somehow, impossibly, she was being swept up in it.
"Aunt Callie!" Mandy's voice rang out as the front door opened.
The woman who entered was striking—silver hair cropped short, a face that was handsome rather than pretty, eyes that sparkled with decades of accumulated wisdom. She wore a charcoal gray suit that fit her perfectly, and she moved with the confidence of someone who had spent her life commanding respect.
"Mandy." Aunt Callie's voice was warm. "Still terrorizing your parents, I see."
"It's my life's work."
"So I've heard." Aunt Callie's gaze swept the room, landing on Katrina. Her expression softened. "You must be Elizabeth's daughter."
Katrina rose, suddenly self-conscious. "Yes. I'm—I'm Katrina."
Aunt Callie crossed the room, taking Katrina's hands in hers. "I knew your mother. Briefly. She was brilliant. And she never stopped fighting for you." She squeezed Katrina's fingers. "We're going to find her. I promise."
The words hit Katrina like a physical blow. Her eyes burned, but she held back the tears. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when we've got her back." Aunt Callie released Katrina's hands and turned to Mike. "The archives are ready. I've got a team sorting through everything we have on the Bentley Ridge Incident. It's not much—most of it's still classified—but there are a few things that might help."
"Such as?" Mike asked.
"Such as the original survey reports from the rift site. And some surveillance footage that was thought to be lost." Aunt Callie's expression darkened slightly. "And a personal log from Elizabeth's final days. Before she disappeared."
Katrina's heart stopped. "She kept a log?"
"Every researcher does. It's protocol." Aunt Callie's voice was gentle. "You can review it whenever you're ready. But I should warn you—it might be difficult to read."
"I've spent thirty years in a void that drove me to the edge of madness," Katrina said, her voice steady. "I think I can handle my mother's log."
Aunt Callie studied her for a moment, then nodded. "I believe you can."
The room settled into a productive rhythm after that. Aunt Callie brought out several tablets full of digital archives, spreading them across the coffee table. Casey pulled up a holographic display of the Bentley Ridge site, its damaged landscape rendered in ghostly blue. Mike connected his phone to the piano's sound system, filling the room with a soft ambient track that somehow seemed to help them focus.
Katrina immersed herself in the documents. Her mother's handwriting—scanned and digitized—was achingly familiar. Slanted, hurried, full of energy. She'd seen it on birthday cards and notes left on the refrigerator. Never on scientific logs.
The last entries were fragmented. Elizabeth had been chasing something. A pattern in the dimensional interference that didn't match any known theory. Something about the rift's signature that kept repeating.
It's like a message, Elizabeth had written. A cry for help. But who is sending it?
Katrina read the words over and over. Her mother had known something. Had been close to something. And then she'd vanished.
"I want to go to Bentley Ridge," Katrina said abruptly.
The room went still.
"That's..." Mike started.
"I know it's dangerous. But my mother was onto something there. The answers are there." Katrina looked up, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "I need to see it again for myself."
Casey's expression was unreadable. "Katrina, the site is still volatile. Even after thirty years, the dimensional energy—"
"I know. I was there when it opened. I know what it did. I know it didn't settle after you pulled me, Commander Wolfe, and the rest of the team out," Katrina's voice didn't waver. "But I also know that I can't move forward until I understand what happened. What my mother was looking for. Why Aemelia opened that rift in the first place."
The silence stretched. Then Aunt Callie spoke.
"She's right." All eyes turned to her. "The site has been monitored for decades. We have protocols in place. And we have the best people in the world to make sure it's safe. Lady Percival had to pull all kinds of strings to get the rescue team there in the first place." She nodded at Katrina. "If you want to go, we'll make it happen."
Katrina exhaled, not realizing she'd been holding her breath. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet," Aunt Callie said again. "We have a lot of work to do before we can even think about traveling."
"But we're doing something," Katrina said. "That's what matters."
"That's what matters," Casey agreed. She slipped her arm around Katrina's waist, pulling her close. "We're going to find her. Together."
The declaration settled over the room like a blessing. In that moment, the ordinary suburban house felt like the safest place in any universe.
Mike cleared his throat. "Alright. If we're going to do this, we need to be prepared. Aunt Callie, can you get us access to the site?"
"Already working on it."
"Casey, you're the strategist. Start planning routes and contingencies."
"On it."
"Calista, I need you to reach out to the Green Moon network. See if they have any intel on Aemelia's movements that might be useful."
Calista nodded. "I'll make some calls."
"And Mandy, Beth." Mike looked at them. "I know you're both supposed to be heading back to Miami soon."
Mandy exchanged a glance with Beth. "We can delay."
"You don't have to—"
"We're family," Beth said simply. "We're in."
Katrina watched them mobilize, each falling into their role with practiced ease. The Williamson family was formidable when united. And now she was part of that unity.
Her eyes drifted to the window, where the afternoon sun was beginning its slow descent. Somewhere out there, her mother was waiting. Possibly alive. Possibly still fighting.
And now, for the first time in thirty years, she had people fighting alongside her.
Aunt Callie lingered another hour, her presence both grounding and galvanizing. She walked Katrina through the surviving Golden Wand protocols, showing her how to access encrypted files with nothing more than a touch and a whisper of intent.
"This will help you find what you're looking for," Aunt Callie said, pressing a slim silver device into Katrina's palm. "But be careful. Some doors, once opened, refuse to close again."
Katrina curled her fingers around the device, feeling its warmth. "I understand."
Outside, the afternoon had begun its slow surrender to evening. The floating lanterns in the living room brightened automatically. Aunt Callie gathered her things, embracing each of them in turn—long and tight for Katrina, brief and knowing for Mike and Casey.
"Keep me updated," she said at the door. "And stay out of trouble."
"When have we ever been in trouble?" Mike asked, the question so absurd that even he laughed.
"Don't make me answer that." Aunt Callie's eyes sparkled. "I have files that could fill a library."
She left. The door clicked shut.
Silence settled over the living room, comfortable and charged. The past two hours had been intense—discussions of rifts and dimensional energy and mothers who had vanished into thin air. Even for a family accustomed to the impossible, the weight of it pressed down.
Then Calista straightened. Her silver eyes caught the lantern light, gleaming with purpose.
She nodded to her sisters.
The movement was barely perceptible, a subtle shift of chin toward the couch where Katrina had settled. Mandy's eyebrows rose. Beth's lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. They moved as one, crossing the room in three strides before Katrina could process what was happening.
"Hey—" The word became a gasp as Calista's hands caught her shoulders, guiding her down onto the plush velvet. Mandy grabbed her ankles, lifting her legs, while Beth claimed her wrists, pinning them above her head.
"What are you—"
"We've been waiting all day for this," Mandy said, her grin feral. "You got your turn with Mom and Dad. Now you get a turn with us."
Katrina's heart hammered. This wasn't the same as being surrounded by Mike and Casey—this was something else entirely. Calista's glamour shimmered around her like heat off pavement, and Mandy's smirk held wicked promise while Beth's eyes had gone dark and hungry.
"Is this okay?" Calista asked, pausing with her hands on Katrina's t-shirt. Her voice was soft despite the position. "We can stop if you want. But we've all been waiting to show you what family really feels like."
The shirt came up, revealing pale freckled skin and the marks that Mike and Casey had left on her. Calista kissed the fading bruises one by one while Mandy's fingers traced the waistband of the basketball shorts she wore.
"Katrina." Beth's voice was patient. "Just say the word, and we're done. Nothing here is without consent."
"I'm just trying to remember how to breathe."
"That's a 'yes'," Mandy observed, easing the shorts down. "I've been where you are. Just trust them and let go."
"Fuck—" Katrina gasped as Mandy's mouth found the inside of her thigh. "Fuck, okay, yes—"
Calista straddled her chest, settling her weight carefully. Her robe had fallen away, the half-elf's pale skin luminous in the lantern light. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this again," she murmured, positioning her slick cunt over Katrina's mouth. "How long I've wanted to feel you again."
Katrina's response was lost against Calista's folds. She lapped at the soaked flesh, tasting her sweetness. Calista sighed above her, fingers tangling in Katrina's hair, guiding her tongue to the sensitive pearl of her clit.
"Use your hands too," Calista commanded gently. "Fuck me with them."
She obeyed. Fingers sliding into the wet heat of Calista's cunt. Stroking and curling. Finding the spots that made the half-elf moan.
Beth claimed Katrina's other thigh, spreading her wide. When Mandy's mouth closed over her clit, Katrina bucked against the sensation, nearly unseating Calista.
"Holy—" The word dissolved into senseless keen as Mandy sucked her clit while two of Beth's fingers worked inside her soaking wet pussy.
They worked together: Calista grinding on her tongue while Mandy and Beth brought her toward the edge. The sensation became overwhelming—the taste of Calista's arousal at her mouth, the skilled suction on her clit. It built to a breaking point like a tidal wave approaching shore.
"I'm going to—" Katrina tried to warn them, but her words dissolved into a scream against Calista's flesh as the orgasm hit her.
Her body convulsed, cunt clenching around Beth's fingers. Calista rode her through it, sighing as she found her own peak, spraying her release across Katrina's chin and lips. The void itself seemed to echo with her cry.
Beth and Mandy broke away, leaving the half-elf to lap Katrina to another trembling orgasm. The touch of Calista's tongue, hot and precise against her oversensitive clit, drew out a second wave that left Katrina sobbing with relief, tasting herself on Calista's lips as the half-elf kissed her deeply.
"Your turn," Mandy said, and the voice was different now. Focused. She turned to where Mike and Casey sat watching, their eyes wide, their breathing already labored.
"Now wait a minute," Mike started, but Beth was already crossing to him.
"No," she said firmly, dropping to her knees. "Mandy got to spend the afternoon topping Katrina. Calista got to worship her. I've been patient, and I've been good." She reached for his waistband, undoing his jeans. "Fair's fair."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." Cute, he found taking her hair from her face. "I've wanted to for months, Dad. Since the night you helped me through my panic attack after that thing with Marty. I saw the way you calmed him down, and I thought, god... no wonder Mom married you."
She took him in her mouth before he could protest. Her lips stretched around his half-hard length, her tongue swirling over the head. He groaned as her suction coaxed him to full tumescence, hands fisting in her short blonde hair.
"Beth—" Her mother's voice was soft. "Are you sure about this?"
Her response was a hum of deep satisfaction. Beth felt his cock thicken against her tongue, and she looked up at her mother with wide eyes, pulling off just long enough to speak. "I've been thinking about this since I was nineteen. You and Dad, you've been so careful with me, so respectful. But I'm not a kid anymore. I know what I want."
"Mandy and Calista each got a turn," she added, positioning herself over his lap. "It's mine now."
She sank down onto him with a groan. In one fluid motion, he was buried inside her. She was warm and welcoming around his cock, her inner walls rippling as she began to ride him.
"Fuck—" Mike choked out. "Baby, you feel—"
"Yeah?" Beth's hands pressed flat on his chest. "You like how your daughter feels around your cock?"
His hips bucked upward involuntarily. "Fuck, yes."
It was crude. Incestuous. The filth falling from Beth's lips was so familiar to this family that it was almost normal now. But as she rode him with increasing urgency, the taboo dissolved into nothing but raw sensation.
Mandy turned to Casey, who was watching with wide eyes and parted lips. Without a word, she pressed her mother down onto the couch cushions.
"I've been waiting for this all day," Mandy murmured, settling between Casey's spread thighs. "You and Dad were so loud this morning, and I just kept thinking..."
It made Casey tremble. Her daughter's mouth found her clit, tongue flat against the sensitive nub. Within moments, her legs were trembling as Mandy ate her with the skill of a craftsman.
"Mands—" Casey gasped. "Oh, god, baby, yes—"
Mandy hummed against her cunt, sending vibrations through her clit. Then she pulled away, dashing across the room to a drawer in the credenza. When she returned, she was holding a sleek black strap-on, the harness already adjusted to her hips.
"Where did you get that?" Casey asked, breathless.
"I bought it in Miami." Mandy settled between her mother's thighs. "I've been practicing."
"Practicing?"
"With Felicity. And Mai. And a few other friends." She aligned the silicone shaft with Casey's slick entrance. "I thought you might want to see what I've learned."
"You—oh, fuck." Casey's head fell back as Mandy pushed inside her.
Her daughter had learned well, knowing just how to angle those hips. Mandy fucked her mother with a rhythm born of intimate familiarity. Each stroke drove deep and true, the strap-on hitting spots that made Casey cry out.
"Mandy—" Mike's voice was strained. "Is this okay? Fuck, you're both—"
"Shut up and let us enjoy you." Mandy pounded into Casey, her movements frantic. "God, you're so wet for me."
The room descended into pure stimulation. Beth rode Mike bareback and vocal, each slam of her hips together chasing her own climax. Mandy fucked Casey with the single-minded focus of a woman possessed, alternating strokes with sharp slaps against Casey's ass. Calista joined them, pressing her body to Katrina's back, a slender dildo strapped to her hips, settling her hands on Katrina's pale hips.
"One more," Calista promised. "Just one more, and then we surrender." She guided herself into Katrina's cunt; sensation radiated through her. Mandy had left her dripping, and she was stretched by Calista, the pressures combining as Calista's cool hips ground against her ass. It was obscene. It was filthy. And it made Katrina scream.
They moved together, a tangle of limbs and heat. The room filled with the slap of skin and the desperate sounds of pleasure. Mike was the first to break, spilling inside Beth with a groan that seemed to come from somewhere primal. Casey followed with a scream, her body clenching around the silicone cock inside her as Mandy drove her over the edge.
Calista took her time, drawing Katrina toward a peak that seemed to grow ever more distant. She fucked her slow and deep while Katrina's cries dissolved into prayers, until the pressure became unbearable.
"How do you want it?" Calista asked, her voice as calm as her strokes. "How do you need to come?"
"I don't know—" Katrina sobbed. "I don't know. Just—please—"
Calista's hand found Katrina's clit. Three strokes. On the third, Katrina shattered. She came with a scream that wasn't entirely human, rising like a reborn soul from the ashes of the life she'd lost. The orgasm hit her like a wave, dragging her under while her body convulsed around Calista's fingers, until she collapsed into a trembling heap, tears streaming down her face.
They came together in the aftermath, a tangle of limbs on the sweat-soaked sofa. The lanterns cast their gentle light over the wreckage of their bodies.
Mike ran a hand through his hair, his chest still heaving. "Okay," he managed, voice rough. "Okay. That was... that was exactly what I needed."
"I think we all needed it," Casey replied. She pressed her forehead to Mandy's, a silent exchange of affection. "Now we need to get dressed and start digging into Elizabeth Harlow's disappearance. We have leads, but they're not going to chase themselves."
"Aunt Callie's archives are in the spare bedroom," Mike confirmed. "Plus Jan and Cameron are coming tonight with Green Moon intel. We need to move."
Katrina was quiet for a long moment. She lay across Calista's lap, her eyes far away. Then she spoke, her voice small and raw.
"When do I get to meet Rick?"
The question hung in the air. In all the chaos of her arrival, all the love they'd poured into her, she hadn't asked about him. She'd been too afraid to speak his name. And now that she had, something in her chest eased.
"He's in Miami," Casey said gently. "He owns a bakery there with Stacy. He comes home to visit as often as he can."
"I know he's yours," Katrina said quietly. "I know he's Calista's biological father. I know time is tangled and strange. But I still want to meet him. I want to learn what it's like to have brothers and sisters. Even if it's tangled."
Mike exhaled slowly. "He knows about you. Stacy told him everything—about her own time-travel adventures and the version of him she loved here. He's been asking when he could meet you too."
"When?"
"Soon." Casey squeezed Katrina's hand. "We'll call him tonight. Before the archive dive. You can talk to him face to face."
"I'd like that." A reluctant smile tugged at her mouth, breaking through the tears. "Maybe he can teach me how to not burn the pancakes."