Chapter Sixteen: Lost Forever

"We've lost," Winston Churchill mourned. His bulldog face and sagging jowls looked both sad and comical. "The British Empire has lost this island forever!"

"Hush, Winston. The royal couple are about to recite their wedding vows before the altar of the gods. It's an ancient tradition, but I'm told the queen insisted on writing her own vows!" Franklin Roosevelt was enjoying the ceremony more than his stuffy British counterpart. Samantha's island was a real tropical paradise. The handsome young Harvard man drank in the exotic beauty of the torch-lit grove, perfumed by fragrant blossoms. And he smiled at all the pretty native girls, their perky little breasts on show, their golden skins gleaming in the sunset.

One or two of them smiled back.

"Samantha and her sailor were legally married on our ship," Winston grumbled. "That was the only part of our agreement that made sense. But the rest is madness. How can the British Empire abdicate all authority, and recognize a schoolgirl as a queen? And she chooses an Irish sailor as her king. It's preposterous!"

"This ceremony is just for the locals," Franklin Roosevelt said lightly. "There's no harm in keeping the natives happy. After all, Samantha promised to keep the U-boats out of the Caribbean for the remainder of the war. And after what we saw . . ."

"We didn't see anything," the First Lord of the Admiralty said sourly. The beast from below had nearly destroyed one of His Majesty's finest naval ships. But there was no way to prove that Samantha had summoned the beast. Winston Churchill refused to believe it. No female had such power. The male world of science and ships and guns could never survive such a revelation. Besides, how could a soft-spoken, well-behaved girl fresh from the schoolroom summon up such terrifying forces? Could an innocent beauty wield dark powers older than time?

"Look at her," Franklin Roosevelt whispered. He was proud of his post as Assistant Secretary of the Navy. But he wasn't as stodgy and old-fashioned as his good friend Winston Churchill. The young American playboy had known all kinds of women. And he had no doubt that the shapely blond could truly move mountains. "Just look at her."

Samantha had worn a white dress for the ceremony aboard ship, complete with a wide-brimmed hat and a lace veil. But now, among her beloved island people, the golden-haired English girl had cast off the cumbersome restraints of European civilization. She stood before the ancient altar wearing a crown of red and white flowers atop her carefully arranged shining hair, and a strip of crimson silk knotted around her slim waist. And that was all.

"I take this man," the young queen of the island said, in a voice of husky desire that seemed to underline her newfound authority. "I take him into my arms and into my heart. I take him to my bed freely and willingly, for my pleasure as much as his. By the gods below the sea, I swear to love him and love our children and their children to come. I swear to love our people, and keep this island safe and on its proper path to the end of my days. I am Samantha."

"I take this woman," Shane O'Neill replied. The rugged sailor was a bit slow in taking Samantha's hand. For a moment the bare-chested male simply stared at her, as though mesmerized. Then he began to speak. "I take her though she is as far above me as the stars in the sky. I take her though she is as powerful and unfathomable as the sea itself. I take her to my bed freely and willingly, for her pleasure as much as mine. By the gods below the sea, I swear to love her and love our children and their children to come. I swear to love our people, and keep this island safe and on its proper path to the end of my days. I am Shane."

The people cheered as the drums began a pounding rhythm. Everyone danced and it was a joyous occasion, but as he laughed and clapped his hands Franklin Roosevelt could have sworn he saw Winston Churchill wiping away a tear.

It was long after midnight when the drums fell silent. A silver moon shone down on the peaceful waters of the warm tropical sea. And within the royal bedchamber, the queen of the island lay dreaming of drowned corpses with familiar faces. Creatures with gaping maws and long black tentacles rose from the deep.

"No," Samantha whimpered. "Uncle Herbert, you mustn't. Aunt Katrina, please don't!"

"Shh." Shane pulled her close, awakening Samantha with a kiss. "Don't be scared. I'm here for you, baby. I'm here."

"I'm not afraid." Samantha sighed deeply, resting her head against her husband's bare chest. Hearing his heartbeat and waking up in those strong arms was enough to chase away any nightmare. "I could have saved them. I could have warned them in time. Uncle Herbert and Aunt Katrina were devoured by that thing from below the waves."

"Knock it off," Shane said brusquely. "Your aunt and uncle were crooked. They were devoured by their own greed."

"I know that. But I called it to the surface!"

"You're the queen of this island, Samantha." Shane kissed the top of her head, cradling her shapely form in his burly arms. "You've got a right to protect your people. You saved a lot of lives that day. Me, Sula, that German prisoner, and a lot more. It was you. If you hadn't made contact with that creature, it might have destroyed the entire island. It might have devoured us all."

"I am that creature," Samantha said bleakly. "When I lose consciousness, I become one with that nameless thing from the deep. It's a part of me, now. I guess I'll never really be free of it."

"You'll never be free of me," Shane growled. "I pulled you out of the waves. Hell, I plucked you right out of that creature's mouth. I'm not afraid of any beast, above or below the waves!"

"Prove it!" In the wink of an eye Samantha was on top of Shane. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked deep into his eyes. "You think you know me, Shane O'Neill. You think I'm just the schoolgirl in white you rowed around the ruins that day. The damsel you rescued from the dragon. The shy virgin you awakened with a kiss. But I'm more than all those things. I'm also the beast from below." Samantha's voice dropped to a whisper. Her blue eyes flashed a royal challenge in the dark. "Love me and be lost forever!"

"Bullshit." Shane didn't waste words. His rough and hungry kisses made Samantha moan with pleasure. More intimate pleasures followed as the rugged sailor ravished his innocent queen. Again and again they made love as the silver moon shone down upon the peaceful waters. And far below the waves, the thing that was older than time waited patiently for its hour to come again.

THE END

A/N I hope you all enjoyed this romantic tale of horror. It was so much fun combining H.P. Lovecraft with real-life history and giving Franklin Roosevelt and Winston Churchill a chance to confront the unknown! A special thank you to the incredibly talented Katie Daysh for all her help and encouragement. Don't miss her sensational book Leeward, available now from Canelo books!