Daughter of Light (Kindred 2)

This is why it’s so easy for the daughters of darkness, I thought. Look at them all assuming, imagining, lavishing in the erotic, all immediately caught on the sexual hook.

Once they were past puberty, nothing was innocent anymore, not a look, not a touch, not a whisper. And so we baited them with a suggestive smile, a shifting of our eyes, or an innuendo, and they were all ours, practically gift-wrapped for Daddy. Ironically, I had chosen to be like them, the vulnerable ones. I had left the security and the power inherent in Daddy’s world, but at the moment, I detested their weakness. I was still in that love-hate relationship and could feel the struggle for dominance going on inside me.

“Maybe I can see you for lunch,” Liam said. “You do get an hour,” he added, seeing my hesitation. “Dad’s phone goes on automatic voice mail. Didn’t Michele show you that?”

“No. She had so much to tell me that she probably forgot, but I’m sure she will this morning.”

“Great. I’ll stop by. There’s a nice café just down the street.”

“Let me see how things go,” I told him. I wanted him to understand clearly and immediately that I would not be rushed into anything.

“Sure,” he said. He was too proud to show his disappointment, but I could feel it.

“Thanks for the ride,” I said, loudly enough for the woman behind the reception desk to hear. “So fortuitous that you happened along,” I added, and I started quickly for Ken Dolan’s office.

Michael Thomas stepped out of a door to the warehouse.

“Hey,” he called. “I looked for you on my way to work, but I guess you got yourself a ride. You look dry.”

“Yes, thank you, Michael. I tried to walk to work. Liam came along just as it really began to pour.”

“Liam?” He looked down the hallway and saw him talking to the receptionist. “He just happened to come along?”

“I guess,” I said.

He looked at me skeptically, even, I thought, a little critically, as if he believed I was trying to deceive him. “So, you’re telling me it wasn’t something planned?”

“No.”

The lines in his face creased and twisted to form a mask of skepticism.

“That’s what happened. Why do you look so doubtful?”

“The Dolans’ house is on the other side of town. He wouldn’t be just coming along when the downpour started. Not that it’s any of my business,” he added.

“Oh,” I said, realizing that Liam must have planted himself on the street waiting for me to start out.

Michael shrugged, seeing the sincere surprise in my face. “Look at it this way. You got him here to work on time for a change. That’s something his father couldn’t do.”

He paused. I could almost hear his thoughts. Maybe that’s why Ken Dolan hired you so quickly.

Maybe, I thought, but I hoped not.

It would be like some other man using me for bait.

I simply couldn’t escape my destiny.

8

No one wants to feel used, manipulated. I decided that if I concluded that this was the sole reason Ken Dolan had hired me, I would quit and maybe move on to another town or city along the East Coast. Maybe I would even go to Europe, London, anywhere but Quincy. That morning, when he had greeted me, Ken Dolan did look as if he knew his son had driven me to work. One of his employees might have told him, or maybe Liam had told him. Although he didn’t say anything about it, he did look happy that I was behind the desk a few minutes early, perhaps because of Liam. I could almost hear Ava’s laughter.

Michele Levy was there early, too, so she could finish up what she wanted to show me with the office filing system and some other minor issues. I was impressed with her dedication and loyalty to Mr. Dolan. I knew she still had doubts that I could fill her shoes, despite the abilities I had demonstrated and the speed with which I had grasped the tasks. Maybe in her mind, it diminished her importance and achievements to have someone as young as I was fill her position so easily.

Periodically, other young men stopped by, ostensibly to welcome me to the company. From the smiles on their faces

and the way they lingered, it was clear they were there to look me over. One of them was Terrence Stone, who managed the showrooms. I knew he was just thirty, but he looked older because he was prematurely balding. I knew he was a smoker, too. I could, as could any of my sisters, smell the scent even before the smoker arrived. All of our senses were sharper and keener. I wondered if mine would diminish with time. Anyway, Daddy didn’t want his daughters to bring him men who were heavy smokers. He didn’t like the taste of their blood.

“I didn’t know who you were when Michael Thomas ran you through the showrooms yesterday,” Terrence said in an apologetic tone. “I thought you might be one of these recently wed women looking to set up a new home. Welcome,” he added, offering his hand and holding on to mine a little too long. He had a soft voice with a British accent that Daddy used to call the king’s English.