Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4) (3 page)

She looked up at her daughter. “I met Martin, and we fell in love. I don’t know how Sergei found out, but he did. He was furious. He beat me and controlled my mind. I woke up one day and discovered it had been almost two months since I went to sleep. I was pregnant. He said he needed a new woman, a younger woman, and I was going to give her to him.”

Straightening and taking a ragged breath, she met Irina’s eyes. “It took me another two months to escape, to get away and call Martin. Using my talents and his connections inside the British embassy, we got out of Russia the next day. We came here, and you, my beautiful daughter, were born. As much as I hate my father, I’ve never regretted having you. I’m sorry, Irina. I hoped I’d never have to tell you this.”

Irina sat back in her chair and thought about her mother’s story. After a few minutes, she said, “So now that he knows I exist, he’s trying to capture me to breed another succubus for him.”

Her mother’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Irina. No.”

“Oh, yes. He wants to use me the way he did you. The pattern is too clear. Some men become addicted to succubi. It sounds as though he might be one of them. We also know,” Irina waved her hand toward her friends, “that the Russian Clans are experimenting with genetic engineering, and they’re buying telepathic women.”

Irina gazed around the room, trying to find something to grasp out of all the thoughts running around her mind. “I guess I’m going to have to go to Russia,” she finally said, her face hard. Natalia gasped. “I’ll find him and kill him, and then we’ll all be free.”

~~~

When Natalia discovered there were a dozen Protectors sitting just outside their property, she insisted that they come for dinner. Conscripting her daughter, Brenna and Rebecca, she set about preparing a feast. It took almost every chair in the house and adding two card tables in the dining room, but everyone had a place.

“Russian mother syndrome,” Irina said with a grin. “No visitor goes hungry in a Russian home.”

Brenna had been thinking all afternoon about what to do concerning Natalia and Martin’s situation.

“Martin, Irina told me that you’re a civil engineer. Would you be open to taking a new job?”

Irina froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. *
What do you have in mind?*
she sent to Brenna.

*I think they’d be safer in the valley, don’t you? I have a lot of building going on, such as my lab, the school, new housing units. I could use a project manager to oversee it all. The guy doing it now lives in DC, and he’s not on-site all the time,*
Brenna replied.

Irina’s smile was all the endorsement that Brenna needed.

“What kind of job?” Martin asked.

Brenna explained what she was doing in West Virginia. “I think you and Natalia would be safer there,” she said. “Natalia would have the chance to live among other telepaths, and you would have work in your field.”

“And we’d get to see each other all the time,” Irina said, looking back and forth between her parents.

Natalia and Martin stared at each other, and Irina held her breath, knowing there was a silent conversation taking place.

Natalia turned to Brenna. “If you don’t mind, I would like to see your valley. Martin can’t come for a couple of weeks, but if I like it, then he’ll come. Can you wait for a decision until we see it?”

Brenna nodded. “Certainly. You can ride back with us if you wish.”

~~~

Although their curiosity was boiling over, it wasn’t until they arrived back in West Virginia that Irina told her friends what she had learned from her mother.

“No,” Collin said. “Absolutely not. You’re not going to Russia. That’s the stupidest idea I’ve heard since Samantha went hunting Gless.”

Irina smiled and grabbed him by the ear, drawing his face close to hers and kissing him. “Sweet man, I’m going to let you plan the whole thing. I’m not going to barge into Moscow tomorrow searching for my father. Take your time, and set it up so you’re comfortable with it. But go I will. It’s up to you to make sure I’m safe and the operation is successful.”

Rebecca spoke up, “It could take a year or two to gather the proper intelligence and set up an op to take out a major Clan member someplace like Russia.”

Collin barked a laugh. “Not just a major Clan member. Sergei is Clan Chief. Taking him out means taking on the whole Clan.”

“That’s fine,” Irina said, waving her hand as though the difficulty was trifling. “Like I said, I want to be successful when I do this. But I’m not going to spend my whole life looking over my shoulder, afraid he’s going to come after me. I’m not going to live in fear the way my parents have.” She fixed Collin with her eyes. “But don’t think I’m going to forget about it. Plan your operation, and keep me informed.”

~~~

Chapter 3

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. - Marcus Tullius Cicero

Four years before, at the age of 23, Brenna had been named heir of the three Irish Clans. Her grandfathers and great uncle had long dreamed of uniting the clans, and as they neared the end of their lives, they looked to Brenna to make that dream come true.

The dream wasn’t shared by everyone. The oldest sons in Clans O’Byrne and O’Neill and their respective sons thought it was a terrible idea. Other people had a problem with Brenna’s age or the idea of a woman Clan Chief. Some had a problem with the fact that she was a succubus, or Druid as they were called in Ireland.

The O’Donnell Clan, which was now centered in the United States rather than in its ancestral base in Donegal, embraced Brenna. Her grandfather Seamus was only one hundred and sixty-one years old, and planned to hold his position for at least a few more decades. Clan O’Neill, where Corwin was two hundred, and Clan O’Byrne, where Fergus was one hundred and ninety, knew her ascension was nearing, and so did Brenna. A dread of that day lay in the back of her mind.

On her way home from London, Brenna stopped off to see her grandparents at the O’Byrne estate in County Wicklow. From there, she traveled to see her great-uncle at the O’Neill estate in County Tyrone. After arriving home in the States, she went to visit her Aunt Callie at the family estate in West Virginia.

Callista O’Donnell Wilkins was Chief Executive Officer of the O’Donnell Group, the Clan’s business interests. With their long lives, telepaths need to ‘die’ and switch their identities to avoid suspicion. In a previous ‘life’, she had been a professor of genetics at two prestigious universities. Her major research, for obvious reasons never published, concerned mapping the telepathic genome. She had collected genetic samples from hundreds of thousands of telepaths. Even those Clans unfriendly to O’Donnell had participated, wanting the results of her research.

“Callie, I’ve been looking at the genetic profiles in your database,” Brenna said. “Something isn’t jiving with Hugh O’Neill.”

“We aren’t perfect,” Callie said, sitting down at her computer. “Look at what happened with your baby sample.” The genetic swab taken when Brenna was a baby was never entered in the database. When it was analyzed, the results were so fantastic it had been discarded as a contaminated sample.

“You know this manifestation, Talent, Gift, whatever you want to call it, that I have? The one where I see auras and can tell what Gifts a person has?” Brenna asked.

Callie nodded.

“When I look at Hugh, I see twelve Gifts, including the O’Neill Gift and the O’Byrne Gift. Neither of those shows on the analysis you have on file.”

Callie called up Hugh’s record. “Yes, the database shows seven Gifts, and not particularly strong ones. I think that’s why Corwin was reluctant to have Hugh inherit. He doesn’t think Hugh’s strong enough to protect the Clan, or to command the respect to lead it.”

“Where did you get that sample?”

“Hugh gave it to me. Remember, I started this project in the 1970s, and the tools and knowledge we had then were fairly primitive. Let’s see,” Callie said, clicking to another screen on the computer, “1984 is when this sample was catalogued. Why?”

“Call up Finnian’s record,” Brenna said. Finnian was Hugh’s son and had tried to assassinate Brenna shortly after Corwin named her heir to O’Neill. Corwin had exiled him as a result of that attempt.

“They’re identical,” Callie said, her brow furrowed. “Either Finnian’s a clone, or one of these isn’t accurate. A father and son wouldn’t be identical.”

“Yeah. I haven’t seen Finnian since my Talent manifested,” Brenna said, pointing to the screen. “But I know that the Gifts I see when I look at Hugh are definitely different than what is listed there.”

“It shows the Lindstrom Gift on these profiles. And these are the Gifts that everyone thinks Hugh has. He’s a Construct Artist,” Callie said.

“His mother, Corwin’s wife, was from the Lindstrom Clan,” Brenna said. “The daughter of the Clan Chief. She could have embedded a nine-level construct for him. It’s a fairly common way for those with the O’Neill Gift to mask their abilities.”

“She died around the time Hugh reached puberty,” Callie mused. “Hugh would have been tested at puberty, as we’ve always done with children. If you’re right, then he’s been masking his abilities all his life.”

“If I’m wrong, it would be the first time,” Brenna said. “I wonder why Hugh’s doing that.”

~~~

Brenna was working in her office in Washington when she received a call from Hugh O’Neill. “Brenna, Father’s dying and he’s asking for you.”

“Right now?”

“As soon as possible. I don’t think he’ll last out the night.”

Brenna swore as she disconnected. The moment she’d dreaded had come, and no matter how many times she had run scenarios through her mind, she wasn’t sure what to do.

Rebecca was draped across a chair next to the window, trying to decipher a book in Gaelic from Fergus O’Byrne’s library. “What’s up?”

“That was Hugh. Corwin’s dying.”

With a sigh, Rebecca said, “It never rains but it pours. I’ve been expecting this.”

“In Ireland, it just rains all the time,” Brenna said.

“True.”

“Do you know where Rhiannon is?”

“No. Why?”

“Can you contact her?”

“Probably. If I can use your Gift.” Rebecca was referring to Brenna’s Gift for Distance Communication. Rebecca had manifested a Lost Gift, inelegantly called the Soul Thief Gift. One of its elements was that she could use another telepath’s Gifts if she was in the person’s mind.

Brenna opened her mind and invited her sister in. Rebecca found the Gift’s trigger and reached out through the bond she had with Rhiannon.

*Rhiannon. Where are you?*

*Rebecca? In Monaco. Where are you?*

*In Washington. I need to come see you.*

*How are you ... how can you reach this far?*

*I’m using Brenna’s Gift. I’ll explain later. Are you alone? Can you visualize a landing spot? We need to teleport in.*

A blank space of carpet was transmitted from Rhiannon into Brenna’s mind. A few seconds later, that spot, thousands of miles away, had two women standing on it.

Rhiannon Kendrick stared at them with her mouth open. She was dressed in a black off-the-shoulder evening dress with silver trim, with her copper-colored hair in a French twist. Brenna thought that she’d never seen anyone look so beautiful and elegant.

“That’s a beautiful dress,” Brenna said.

“Thank you. And to what do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit?”

“Are you on a case? What are you doing in Monaco?” Brenna asked.

“I’m on holiday. Just spending a bit of time at the casinos refilling the coffers and having a good time.”

“So, you don’t have any pressing engagements? Are you here with anyone?”

“I’m alone and I don’t have a date tonight. Brenna, what the bloody hell is this about?”

“The world, my world, is going to hell in a hand basket. I need your help, and I need it now. Corwin is dying. I need you to come to O’Neill with me. I need more than Rebecca to keep me alive.”

“Well, if that’s all. Give me a moment to change.”

“No, we don’t have time for that, and that dress is perfect. You can change later. Rebecca, help her pack a bag.”

Rhiannon frowned. “Perfect for what?”

Brenna turned away, not answering, and sent a spear thought to Jeremy, her transition manager in County Tyrone at the O’Neill estate. In less than ten minutes, Brenna took the other two women by their arms and teleported to O’Neill.

They appeared back in reality in an empty room. Looking around, they saw Jeremy and his wife Maggie standing in the doorway.

“Just leave your bag here,” Jeremy said. “I’ll take you to Corwin.”

*Do you ever get used to that?*
Rhiannon sent to Rebecca.
*I’m completely disoriented.*

*It makes my stomach all flip-floppy,*
Rebecca replied.
*But the disorientation isn’t from the teleportation. It comes from being in close proximity to Brenna.*

*Do you know what I’m doing here?*
Rhiannon asked. *
I mean the real reason.*