Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4) (14 page)

“Maybe you can talk Brenna into hiring a librarian,” Rhiannon suggested.

Rebecca looked at her in horror.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?” Rhiannon asked.

“It’s
my
library,” Rebecca said. “I’m not letting someone else come in here and screw things up.”

“I’m sorry. Goddess, I didn’t mean to tread on sacred ground.”

“Go stick your nose into something else. If you want to play heir, find your own niche. The libraries are
mine
.”

Rhiannon laughed. “I consider myself warned.”

Rebecca gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. Maureen was the librarian here and at O’Donnell. My dream growing up was to be a librarian. To have such a treasure trove of rare books and manuscripts ...” Her voice trailed off as she looked around.

“In Brenna’s memories,” Rhiannon said, hesitating and watching Rebecca’s reaction.

“Yes?”

“You found information on two unknown Gifts?”

“We call them Lost Gifts. They were known centuries ago, but they seem to have disappeared. The one I have seems to have been passed down in the O’Donnell bloodline, because Callie has it, too. She just never knew that she had it. We found a description of it in a medieval Italian text. They called the person who had it a Soul Thief, but that’s only part of its manifestation. It allows me to use someone else’s Gifts, if they give me access to their mind.”

“Do you mean you could use my Telekinesis or Distance Communication Gifts?”

“Yes, if you let me. I can’t use them unless you give me access to the levels in your mind where the Gifts are located. But I can see the triggers, whereas you probably can’t see the triggers in my mind for Gifts you don’t have. Brenna lets me use her to talk to Carlos sometimes, and I use her Animal Communication Gift to talk to my horse.”

“Or if you controlled someone’s mind,” Rhiannon said.

“Yes. Although that’s rather rude.”

Rhiannon laughed. “What about Brenna’s new Gifts? I mean, I have her memories, and I think I understand what they are, but ...”

Rebecca put down her book. “Just ask. What doesn’t make any sense?”

“The other day, she touched my hair. Wound a lock around her finger. It was very odd. Was she trying to memorize something about it?”

“She was analyzing its resonance,” Rebecca said. “She’s fascinated with the idea of being a redhead. It’s some kind of fetish with her. She does that with almost every redhead she meets. You have her memories of being Samantha, right? I think it’s the idea of being free. Not being the heir, the Lady.” Rebecca thought for a moment. “It wouldn’t surprise me if, in the future, she just disappears sometimes. Takes a holiday to get away from everything. And I think she’ll disguise herself as a redhead.”

Rhiannon compared what Rebecca said with Brenna’s memories. “I think you might be right. I can’t find a memory of her planning anything like that, but when I bump that idea up against what I know, it makes sense.”

~~~

Chapter 11

Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one's definition of your life; define yourself. - Harvey Fierstein

On a rare evening when they were all in the same place, Brenna and Collin sat with Rebecca, Morrighan and Rhiannon on the terrace at O’Byrne, having drinks and watching the late summer sun sink behind the Wicklow Mountains.

“It kind of feels good to get back to normal,” Brenna said.

“We have a normal?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, I keep hoping. I’m thinking of bringing our horses over to Ireland.”

Collin leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “It may take some time, but we’ll get there.”

As twilight deepened into night, Collin’s phone rang. Brenna and Rebecca immediately recognized the faint voice on the other end.

“Hang on,” Collin said to the phone, “Irina, slow down. I can’t make any sense of what you’re saying.”

He held the phone away from his ear so the others could hear her better.

“I’ll kill the son of a bitch and the fucking horse he rode in on. I’m not going to put up with this shit, Collin.” Irina’s voice was loud and shrill. “I’m not waiting any longer. Either you put up or shut up. If you’re not going to help me, I’ll do it myself.”

“Irina, what are you talking about?” Collin asked when Irina took a breath.

“My fucking grandfather,” Irina answered.

Collin’s phone chirped, and he said, “Hang on, Irina. I have a call on the other line.”

“Don’t try to put me off, you bastard,” Irina hissed.

“Just let me check the other call, Irina. I’ll be right back to you.” He punched a button on his phone. “Darren, what’s going on?” Darren was the head of Irina’s security team. Collin listened for a while, then said, “Okay, Darren. I’ll be there in the morning.”

He switched back to Irina. “I just talked to Darren. You know, it would help if you’d frame what you’re talking about before you start yelling at me.”

He held the phone out at arm’s reach. The group heard a stream of profanity that proved Irina had been paying attention over the years to Rebecca’s creative use of language. When she wound down, Collin brought the phone back to his face and said, “I’ll be there at ten o’clock, okay? We’ll sit down and figure out what we need to do.”

“Bring a Goddamned nuke with you,” Irina replied and broke the connection.

“What’s going on?” Rebecca asked. “Is there a shortage of high heels in the shops in London?”

“There was another kidnapping attempt in London,” Collin said with a sigh. “Darren said Irina was on a date and a large group of Russians took over the restaurant and tried to capture her. There was a battle between the Russians and her security force. There are containment issues.”

“Is she alright?” Brenna asked.

“Oh, yeah, she’s unharmed. But as you heard, she’s angry as a wet hen. Darren said she rose to the edge and killed seven men before he could talk her down. Even the three people they captured are burned out or crippled.”

Eyes wide, Rebecca asked, “Collateral damage? Any innocents hurt?”

“Thankfully, no. The words Darren used to describe her were ‘surgically precise and ruthlessly lethal’.”

“She looks like a little doll,” Rhiannon said. “I always have difficulty remembering she’s an adult.”

Rebecca nodded. “She cultivates that, but her ability to focus is incredible. She’s a succubus in every sense of the word. She scares me more than Brenna does.”

“Really?” Rhiannon asked and glanced at Brenna, who nodded.

“She’s one of the few people I’m truly afraid of,” Brenna said. “When she rises to the killing edge, she has a hair trigger. She’s been prey too many times in her short life, and both her sense of self preservation and her sense of outrage are very finely honed.”

“Don’t piss her off,” Rebecca said. “She’ll kill you before she thinks about it and be sorry for it afterward.”

“She has the same Gifts I do. I’m twenty years older than she is, but she’s already more powerful than I am,” Morrighan said. “I don’t know why. There’s something in her mental makeup that allows her to focus her power better than any Druid I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t think she understands she has limits,” Rebecca said. “When she does something, she puts everything she has into it.”

“It’s because it’s all or nothing with her,” Brenna said, turning to Collin. “I’m going with you to London. This crap has to stop, and it’s time we put Gorbachev on notice that this is unacceptable. If we have to replay Leningrad, then that’s what we need to do.”

“I didn’t plan on taking an entourage,” Collin said.

Rhiannon smiled at him. “No extra charge.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You’re going, too?”

When her smile didn’t change, he sighed. “I’ll go make arrangements.”

Walking away, he waited until he turned a corner on his way down to the command center and pulled out his cell phone.

“Seamus? It’s Collin. I need some help.”

“Do you know what time it is in West Virginia?” the Lord of the O’Donnell Clan growled.

“Sorry. I’m surrounded by females and I need some backup in London at ten a.m. local time.”

~~~

Collin flew into London with the four women and took a helicopter to O’Donnell regional headquarters in the West End. Nigel showed them to a conference room, and then Brenna contacted Seamus. A few seconds later, Seamus O’Donnell appeared with his daughter Callista.

“I hope you have coffee,” he growled.

Rebecca jumped up and strode to the sideboard to pour him and Callie a cup.

“I didn’t know you were coming, too,” Collin said to Callie, who looked as though she was still half-asleep.

“You give me entirely too much credit,” Seamus said, taking the coffee from Rebecca and bending down to kiss her on the forehead. “When you said you needed backup to deal with a gaggle of women, I figured I should bring someone they might listen to.”

He looked around the room and his eyes came to rest on Rhiannon. He stared down his hawk nose at her until she began to squirm a little in her seat. The Lord of Clan O’Donnell was a legend, but he and Rhiannon had never met before. She had always been intimidated by his reputation, but was surprised at how intimidating he was in person. Almost seven feet tall and wide as the doorway, with gray hair to his shoulders and a gray beard, he looked like an ancient Irish warrior king.

“You must be Rhiannon,” he said, his voice low and gentle, startling everyone. “My dear, you are the spitting image of your great-grandmother.” He bowed and extended his hand. “I have heard very good things about you. It’s a pleasure.”

Flustered, Rhiannon shook his hand, and became even more nervous when he didn’t let go. Taking a sip of his coffee, he continued to regard her.

“Fifteen Gifts, including one of the Rare Gifts,” he said. “The Krasevec Gift also, is that right?”

Rhiannon nodded.

“You come highly recommended, my dear. Your great-uncle is quite enamored with you.”

“I owe a great deal to Lord O’Byrne,” Rhiannon said. “He has always treated me as one of the family.”

“And so you are,” Seamus responded. “I should like an opportunity to speak with you later. Will you make some time for an old man?”

“Of course.” Rhiannon shot a panicked look at Rebecca.

*
It’s okay,*
Rebecca sent. *
He’s really a big teddy bear. Mostly.*

*Oh, yeah, that makes me soooo much more comfortable.*

“I’m Callie,” Seamus’s daughter pushed between them and extended her hand. “Father, you’re making her nervous. Go sit down and drink your coffee.”

Rhiannon didn’t feel much more comfortable meeting Callista O’Donnell Wilkins, who was also a legend in her own right, but the smile Callie gave her was bright, cheerful and welcoming.

“So, what’s going on?” Seamus asked.

Collin filled him in on what had been happening, including a recap of the kidnapping attempt the previous spring and the visit to Irina’s parents. He had barely finished when the conference room door opened and Irina entered like a whirlwind.

“I’m telling you, Collin, I’m not putting up with this shit any longer. If a girl can’t even go out and get laid without worrying about ....” Irina noticed Seamus and Callie. A bright smile blossomed on her face and in a seamless transition, she said, “Seamus, it’s so good to see you. No one told me you were coming.” She walked over and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Callie, what a pleasant surprise.” She repeated the hug and kiss with Callie, who returned the hug with a chuckle.

“I know you, Irina,” Callie said. “Don’t go spreading blarney on me. If you’re upset, let’s hear it.”

“It’s been very disturbing,” Irina said very earnestly. Callie and Rebecca burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I sort of picked that up last night,” Collin said. “Why don’t you sit down, and let’s figure out what to do about it.”

“It’s very simple,” Irina said, taking a seat. “Give me a protector team and we’ll go to Russia and I’ll kill the bastard. Then we can all live happily ever after.”

“Have you ever been to Russia?” Seamus asked.

“Well, no. But I’m fluent in the language and I know everything about Russia.”

“Then you’re not prepared,” Rhiannon said. Everyone turned to look at her. She blushed and looked down at the coffee cup she was holding in her lap.

“Please continue,” Seamus said with a soft smile.

Taking a deep breath, Rhiannon said, “Just having the language and knowledge of the customs isn’t enough. You’ve never been anywhere remotely like Russia. The people look like us, but they don’t think like us. The culture is truly something between east and west. Not a blend, not a hybrid, but unique unto itself. I don’t know what it was like prior to the Revolution. I don’t know if the Soviet system changed the way people think, but I do know what it’s like now.”

“How much time have you spent there?” Collin asked.