Light and Dark Eternal Ch. 01

Lost Daughters

Larken got out of the car, wincing as her legs and butt protested the cruel movement. An hour and a half of Judo and Hapkido had wiped her out, and it wasn't even noon. She walked into the house and went straight to her bedroom, pulling her sweatshirt off on the way. She needed to shower and get ready for work, but the moment she saw her unmade bed, she unwound her chestnut hair from the bun and collapsed, face first into the pillows.

Her mother was at work so the house was quiet, the faint swoosh of cars flying by on the interstate a soothing lullaby. She started to drift off, telling herself a short nap was doable. Her phone rang and she groaned. She didn't know who she was kidding, a nap was never doable. Dragging her screaming muscles off the bed, she grabbed her phone out of her bag. She didn't recognize the number, and she never answered unless she knew the number. The codes were off, and the she realized it wasn't a U.S. number. Her heart started hammering in her chest, and with trembling fingers she answered. "Hello?"

"Hello. May I speak with Larken Simone?" The woman had a British accent, but it was tough to pinpoint.

"This is," Larken replied, her palms getting slick from nervous anticipation.

There was a moment of silence and then she said, "Larken, I'm Victoria Blake. You emailed us about your grandmother Alice."

Larken sunk to the edge of the bed and cleared her throat. "Yes."

"I want you to know you're on speaker phone," Victoria said. "So many of us wanted to be the one to call we decided we'd all do it."

"All of whom?"

"Your family."

"Really?" Larken said, jumping up. "Are you sure? My Grandma said she was an orphan, and when I found the newsletters from your distillery she told me that Shaughnessy meant a lot to her parents, but that was it. She never told us about anyone else."

"Maura's father John was my brother," Victoria said. "And from everything you sent us, there is no doubt your grandmother Alice was our Maura."

"You said you found newsletters from the distillery?" a man asked. "Forgive me Larken, I'm Dorian."

"Going back over forty years," she replied.

"She kept track of family," someone muttered.

"What about my great grandmother's family? Larken asked.

"She was also a Blake," Victoria said.

Larken's stomach dropped and she felt slightly nauseous. "Oh."

"Not like that dear," Victoria said, amused. "The two were so far removed from one another they may as well have been from entirely different families. The Blake family tree is quite large and has produced many branches. Some are closer to each other than others."

"So why didn't she tell us about you?" Larken asked, not really meaning to go there yet. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. I'm just..."

"Confused?" Dorian said. "Torn?"

"Yeah," Larken said. "That about sums it up."

"When Maura's parent's died, she was devastated," Victoria said. "We all were."

"I'm so sorry," Larken said.

"That's very kind of you dear," Victoria said. "Thank you. Over the next couple of years we tried to give her the love and guidance her parents would, but without them, home stopped being home. Everything reminded her of what she lost and she withdrew from us all. One day she went for a walk and never came back. We searched for her."

"For years," Dorian said. "But we never found a trace."

"What about Darby?" Victoria asked. "I'm surprised we haven't heard from her."

"I haven't told her yet," she replied. "I didn't want to say anything unless I knew for sure."

"I'd say it's time then," Dorian said. "We'd love to talk to her as well, and arrange for you both to come home for a visit."

"Home," she'd said with a grin. "So I'm English then?"

There was general laughter all around, and more than one person chimed in with, "Islanders are islanders."

******************

Thomas stood at the gate while the tourists disembarked. It was the last ferry of the night, and as soon he checked the boat, he'd head back to the island. These days it was best for him to spend as little time away from Frith as possible. The changes had begun, and while they were still infinitesimal, his awareness of them made him testier. He still had five years to go but thirty loomed large on the horizon. His doomsday clock counting down.

He walked both floors of the ferry and then headed for the controls. Suddenly he stopped, his ears picking up the almost silent footfalls of a woman, and she was carrying her shoes. Ducking around the corner, he waited. A moment later Amy's dark brown curls came into view as she tiptoed towards the controls. He waited for her to pass and then picked her up from behind.

She screamed and smacked his shoulder with her shoes. "Shit Thomas! How do you always do that?"

He laughed and put her down. "The boats are my second home. The slightest change and I know."

She dropped her shoes and bag on a bench and slid her arms out of her jacket. Wearing a jean skirt and Little Brew Pub t-shirt, she sauntered over to him, a wicked smile on her face.

"And what can I do for you?" he said, grinning ear to ear.

"You never come by the pubs anymore." Amy slid a finger across his chest, and down his stomach, just curling it into the top pf his jeans. "In fact you never spend time on the Sentinel at all. Why is that?"

If he told her the truth she'd think he was insane, or worse, she'd try to save him. If things were different he might even let her. He liked Amy, they always had a good time together, but men of the island knew their futures, and they didn't include women from the mainland.

"Family issues have required more time devoted to the island," he said.

She unbuttoned his jeans and said, "Like future wife family issues?"

Longing and loss flitted through his gaze, but she was unzipping his jeans and missed it. He pushed it out of his mind and grabbed her arms, a little rougher than he intended. She looked at him, her heart racing and eyes wide. He could've eased up, instead he tightened his grip and yanked her to him, feeling her chest heave against his with every ragged breath.

"You tell me." He devoured her lips hungrily, eliciting small noises of surprise and pleasure. Backing her towards a bench, he wrenched her arms behind her and took hold of her wrists with one hand. The delicate curve of her neck made his mouth water and he devoured every inch. Shoving up her shirt and bra, he gave her his own wicked smile and sucked her stiff nipple into his mouth. Amy gasped, and he slipped a hand under her skirt, sliding it between her thighs, satisfied at her already soaked panties. Yanking them down, he pressed his fingers into her flesh, working her into a dripping, heaving, heap of aching need.

She slid her hand into his pants and he whipped her around. Taking her forearms in one hand, he grabbed a fistful of hair and bent her over the bench. "Tell me what you need Amy," he said in her ear, rubbing his swollen cock along her hip. "Say it. Tell me how hard you want to be fucked."

She was panting, her forearms getting slick from sweat. He pulled his cock free and teased her, making her hips buck. "Thomas," she whimpered. Please..."

He gave her hair a yank and growled, "Say it."

"Fuck me hard Thomas. I need it!"

He drove himself inside her and she jumped in his grasp, surprised at the force of him. Tightening his grip, he immobilized her and pounded her hard, giving her what she needed. What he needed. Every slap of his flesh against hers the growls in his chest deepened, the instinct to dominate and own bringing out his other side. He liked it, and so did Amy. Whimpering, moaning, gasping, and crying out, he made her do it all.

He suddenly yanked her upward and shoved her towards the wall. Releasing her wrists, he slapped her ass hard and wrapped a hand around her throat. Completely at his mercy, she braced her hands on the wall and took her punishment, his thrusts hard, fast and deep.

"Thomas," she moaned, her body beginning to tighten around his.

He increased his fervor, his lips pressed to her head as he grunted and growled, his cock about to explode.

"Oh God! Thomas!" Her muscles contracted as she came, tighter and tighter she grabbed him, until he erupted, her walls milking every last drop from him.

Pressing a hand to hers and tightening his grip around her neck, he rammed her against the wall and held himself there, squeezing every last moment of ecstasy from her he could. Gradually he relaxed and eased out of her. Amy trembled and he turned her around, then kissed her deeply.

"That was fun," she said, still trying to catch her breath.

He smiled and fixed her clothing then took care of his own. His time was limited, but he had a certain freedom denied to most on the island. He could fuck who he wanted, when he wanted, and how he wanted. And while he'd slept with his fair share, he wasn't as interested in fucking his way through his twenties like some of his brethren. It only brought what he'd never have sharper into focus, depressing him further.

Amy slid her hands around him neck and pulled him to her. "Stay with me," she whispered in his ear. "We can do that again, and again, and again."

He chuckled, and seriously considered throwing responsibility away and indulging. Amy looked at him, her eyes bright with anticipation, and something more. But there was no future for them, he made that clear from the beginning. They all did. But romantic entanglements and broken hearts inevitably occurred. His indulgence would only get her hopes up, and he couldn't hurt her like that. She deserved better.

"Amy, I-" His phone vibrated and he picked it up. "Sorry."

While he read the text, she grabbed her jacket, already resigned to leaving the ferry alone.

"I have to get home," he said, confused by what he was reading. "My brother-"

"I know Thomas." She kissed his cheek and headed for the dock. He followed, and almost ran into her when she abruptly stopped and turned. "Are you going to disappear one day too?"

"Islanders are islanders Amy," he said, briefly touching her cheek. "Frith is in our blood, it's where we belong."

"So yes." She swallowed a couple times and dabbed at the corner of her eye. "Goodbye Thomas, I hope you're happy on your island."

Before he could respond she darted down the dock. He was tempted to chase after her, but it was better to let her go. He couldn't give her what she wanted. He sighed and reread the message. It made little sense, but he replied, and took the ferry out into the night. Very few could navigate the passage between the Sentinel and Frith during the day, much less at night. But the ocean was his second home, and mastering the life and death currents was a rush he loved.

Riding into Pinter's Cove, the howling winds trying to upend the ferry, he headed for the docks. The meticulously planned, quaint country village was very different at night with the tourists gone. People relaxed and enjoyed their island free from the prying eyes of strangers. He floated into the very quiet docks and took care of the ferry before heading to Mona Bell's. A popular stop for tourists and islanders alike, Mona Bell's was on the water, just a short walk down the road. During the day no alcohol was available, in fact drinking was only allowed at the brewery, and was strictly controlled. But islander hours meant the beer and liquor were unlocked and the bar was more than a food counter.

Thomas walked inside, surprised at the crowd, at least half of them Blakes and Waldrens. He saw a few Ramseys scattered about, including his brother Bill who was at the bar with Lily and Graham Blake. Bill caught sight of him and waved him over grinning. "You're not going to believe this, but the lost daughters were found."

"What?" Thomas said, mussing Lily's carrot red locks. "Maura and her girl?"

"Maura died," Graham said, handing him a pint. "Gran is taking it hard. She was always hoping to find her and reconnect."

"I'm sorry," Thomas said, still wondering what this had to do with him.

"Lost daughters turned out to be three," Bill said, his eyes twinkling. "Larken is twenty-one. In fact she's the one that found the Blakes."

Thomas was speechless, and he looked to Lilly and Graham for confirmation. They both nodded and he said, "How?"

"Maura had a box of newsletters from the distillery and more from the brewery," Lily replied. "Larken found them and surprised Maura with a bottle of scotch, thinking it would be a great gift. Maura didn't react the way she hoped."

"No, I don't suppose after sixty years of hiding she would," Thomas said.

"The box of newsletters disappeared and a couple years later Maura died."

"How?"

"Cancer," Graham replied.

"Cancer," Thomas said, mystified.

Graham shrugged and said, "She rejected her birthright. Obviously there are consequences."

"So how did Larken find you?" Thomas asked.

Lily smiled and opened her laptop. "Maura had one photo of her parents, and when she died it went to Larken. Something about the photo bothered her, and then she figured it out." Lily pulled up a black and white photo of John and Belinda Blake, Maura's parents. "Notice anything familiar?" she asked.

He picked out the bench and white washed wall of the distillery immediately. And on closer examination he saw a partial foot and arm along the edges. Maura had cut her parents out of a much larger photo. "She made the connection from this?"

Graham grinned and said, "She found the newsletter this came from online, and after researching her grandmother turned up nothing, took a closer look at the island and our history. She found the stories about Maura's disappearance and put two and two together."

"We spoke to her today," Lily said. "She's excited to come home and meet the family."

Thomas shook his head, taking it all in, and looked around the pub. Out of the nine bachelors, six of them were there, and they were eyeing one another in way they never had before. They'd grown up together, they were friends. Now they were competition.

"Why didn't we know about her?" he asked.

"There are theories," Bill said.

Graham reached for the laptop and said, "Check Facebook."

Lily smacked his hand away. "I'll know when she accepts."

Bill laughed and said, "Darby has no social media presence, and Larken has her couple accounts as private as possible. We tried to find school photos, work, anything, but Maura taught them well."

"What about..." Thomas glanced at the Waldrens and raised an eyebrow.

"They're hopeful," Graham said quietly. "But no one knows if it will make a difference at this point. I think he's worse off than they let on."

"She just accepted," Lily said softly. "My god, her mother is a Blake through and through. Look at that hair."

Everyone gathered round, trying to see the island's lost daughters. Thomas's heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest as he got a good look at his last hope.