Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4) (19 page)

*
Yes, and she knows it, too. That’s why she’s so set on killing him.*

Irina looked up at Andrei. “You don’t have to talk around me. I know what kind of incestuous bastard I am.”

His eyes jerked toward her, a guilty expression on his face.

“That’s why I’m going to kill him,” she said. “Wouldn’t you, if you knew that’s what he wanted to do with your daughter?”

He strode toward her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “My lady, I didn’t understand before, but I do now. We’ll get the son of a bitch. I promise. ”

“Am I missing something?” Vladimir asked.

“Probably,” Rhiannon said. “Use your charm and ask her for her life story.”

Irina shifted her attention to Rhiannon. Her vision wavered, and it was obvious that she was still having problems bringing everything into focus.

“Do you want him out of commission for three days?” Irina glanced at Vladimir. “I won’t cut him any slack. He’s a dumbshit who doesn’t respect women. You’re welcome to him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just prey.”

Rhiannon felt her face flame. Looking away from Irina, she turned and found herself face to face with Vladimir. His mouth hung open, staring at Irina.

“Shall we take care of business?” Rhiannon said, nodding toward Galina.

Rhiannon and Vladimir met in Galina’s mind and began to set blocks on the triggers for her Gifts while Andrei went to organize the transport of their prisoners. The mental work with Galina presented a major effort because of the number of Gifts she had.

The intimacy of working with Vladimir in Galina’s mind was both stimulating and uncomfortable. They sat several feet apart, but the feeling was that they were wrapped around each other. Every time her mind brushed against his, it sent a chill through her, and the looks he occasionally shot her told her that he wasn’t immune to the contact.

After almost an hour of work, Rhiannon turned to Irina. The young woman was slumped over the table and appeared to be asleep. Rhiannon rose from her chair and shook Irina awake.

“We need your help. She has Gifts we don’t have, and I need you to block them.”

Blinking at the light, Irina said, “Okay. What Gifts?”

“She has Orgonekinesis, both projection and draining. From reading her thoughts, I can see that she has them, but since I don’t, I can’t see the triggers to block them.”

Yawning widely, Irina said, “Okay. Uh, RB, I don’t know how to do that.”

“It’s okay, honey. I left one of the Gifts that we all have. I can show you, and then you can block the others.”

Rhiannon showed Irina how to block the Electrokinesis Gift, and then entered Irina’s mind and watched as the young succubus placed the necessary blocks in Galina’s mind. Then they set compulsions for obedience, and to keep Galina from attempting to use her Gifts that didn’t have triggers. The obedience compulsion was set to Rhiannon, Vladimir, Andrei and Mikhail. The final compulsion was against her escaping. The last thing Rhiannon did was place a keyhole into Galina’s shields. Even after the blocks and compulsions were removed, Rhiannon would have an entrance into Romanova’s mind.

“There’s something I don’t understand,” Vladimir said. “If she has those Gifts, why didn’t she realize you were draining all of them?”

“Because, sweetie,” Irina said with a smile, “normal telepaths are amateurs at life energy manipulation. I play in the world championship league.”

When they were finished, Rhiannon lifted Galina using Telekinesis and carried her down the stairs to a waiting van.

“You’re pretty proficient at that kind of work,” Vladimir said, his voice flat. Rhiannon picked up the accusation in his statement. Blocks and compulsions were considered severe ethical and moral breaches in telepathic society. Protectors were taught the skills, but were strongly cautioned against using them indiscriminately. A person caught manipulating other telepaths in such ways could expect sanctions, ranging up to exile and or mind wipe.

“My mum and grandmum are healers,” she said. “I don’t have the Gift, but they thought I should know how to deal with psychological trauma. Also how to calm someone who was wounded or injured until medical help could arrive.”

As she spoke, her anger grew at his insinuation. She leaned into him, the space between their faces only inches. It had been a while since any of them had showered, and the smell of man, sweaty, testosterone-laden man, filled her nostrils. It triggered warmth between her legs, but also fueled her indignation.

“And for the past two years, I’ve been breaking up trafficking rings. I’ve recovered dozens of telepathic girls who have been sold into slavery. The slavers use drugs, compulsion and constructs to control their merchandise. I laid the compulsion that turned Siegfried von Ebersberg away from trafficking succubi—after I neutered the son of a bitch. So take your holier-than-thou shit and fuck yourself with it. If you don’t want to be part of the O’Neill Clan, I’ll release you from your obligation right now. Otherwise, I suggest that you fix your attitude. If you don’t like taking orders from women, then you don’t want to meet Brenna. She’ll take you apart and make you wish you’d never grown a pair of balls.”

She was trembling with anger. It was amazing how strongly he affected her.

Irina stepped between them. “Vladimir, unless you’re tired of living, I suggest you walk away,” she said.

He tore his eyes away from Rhiannon’s, which were completely black without any green at all. Looking down at Irina, he saw that the fuzzy, stumbling, drugged demeanor she had displayed earlier was gone. The depth of what he saw in her eyes, the intelligence and awareness, and the lethal threat, staggered him.

*She’s either going to shag you or kill you in the next sixty seconds,*
Irina sent him. *
I’m giving even odds on both options. Are you a betting man?
*

He took a staggering step backward, then another. Irina stood in front of Rhiannon, the top of her head barely reaching the taller woman’s shoulder.
She came here to kill a Clan Chief, and she has no doubts that she can do it,
he realized.

He shifted his gaze upward, toward the most magnificent woman he’d ever met. He’d pushed her to the killing edge, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He bowed deeply.

“My apologies, my lady. You’re right. I’m out of line. It won’t happen again.”

Irina bowed her head toward him in acknowledgement. *
I’m glad you’re not as stupid as you’ve been acting,*
she sent. She turned toward Rhiannon, who was starting to shake as the adrenaline in her system found no outlet. An expanding green ring began to form around her shrinking pupils.

“Come on, Rhi,” Irina said. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

~~~

Chapter 14

Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it. - Hunter S. Thompson

After eating again, Irina went to bed and slept through the rest of the day, the night, and the next morning. She appeared in the dining room around noon.

“Oh, good! I was afraid I’d missed breakfast,” she said, bouncing into the room and sitting down at the table.

“You did,” Rhiannon laughed, placing a bowl of soup in front of her. “This is lunch.”

In between spoonfuls, Irina said, “What’s the plan? Fill me in on what I’ve missed. And where did all these good-looking men come from? Can I have a couple?”

The group related the events of the past few days, and then Vladimir said, “I have the same question she does. What’s the plan?”

Rhiannon looked to Andrei. “Any ideas?”

“I like Galina’s plan,” Irina said. In the silence that followed, she filled her bowl with more soup. “I think that taking a video of me, captured, and sending it to Sergei might draw him out.”

“Do you enjoy being bait?” Rhiannon asked.

“Not particularly. It’s kind of scary, but I’m really good at it,” Irina replied. “I have another question. What are we going to do with Galina and her men?”

“That’s a very good question. Andrei, Vladimir, what do you think about the Romanov succession?” Rhiannon asked. “Should we just cut them loose and let the succession bloodbath run its course? It would mean a weakened enemy Clan. Or should we think about alternatives?”

Vladimir looked up at the ceiling. “I think that’s a little above my pay grade.” Andrei nodded.

“Well, it’s not above mine, damn it,” Rhiannon said. “That’s why I would appreciate ideas, suggestions, maybe a few informed opinions, before I speak with Brenna and Lords O’Byrne and O’Donnell.”

“We haven’t talked about what we’re going to do with Gorbachev, either,” Irina said. Andrei froze and then slowly turned to look at her.

“After I kill my grandfather,” she said, “or maybe before, we’re probably going to have to take out the Clan leadership, including his sons. He doesn’t have an heir. Are we going to just waltz out of there and leave what’s left of them to figure it all out? Or should we decide for them?”

“Do you want to be Clan Chief?” Rhiannon asked with a smile.

“Maybe,” Irina said. Rhiannon’s smile died.

Irina continued, “If we help Galina take over here, and we install a new Clan Chief in Moscow so that we control Gorbachev, we’d have two eastern allies and cut off a huge amount of the slave trade. Plus we’d have the German Clans in a pincer.”

“We?” Andrei asked.

“O’Donnell. And the other Irish Clans. Someday, Brenna will hold all three seats. Anyway,” she turned to Rhiannon and shrugged, “you asked for suggestions, those are mine.”

“The drugs still haven’t worn off, have they?” Rhiannon said.

Irina giggled.

They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing various plans and alternatives, then hashed out several contingency plans. Late in the evening, Rhiannon contacted Brenna.

*
Can you set up a conference call with Lord O’Donnell and Lord O’Byrne?*

*Sure. What’s up?*

*We have an idea about controlling the Romanov succession. We have Galina Romanova under our control and she’s planning on killing her brothers and taking the seat. I figured I should check with the Clan Chiefs before I try to play queen maker.*

It took a few minutes, but Brenna called back with Seamus and Fergus channeled through her mind. Rhiannon had prepared a thought package consolidating the afternoon’s discussions. She pushed it into their minds, then sat back and waited while they processed it.

Seamus was the first to respond.
*Pretty damned ambitious. I knew no good would come of you sharing Brenna’s mind.*

*Didn’t you read the dossier I sent you?*
Brenna asked.
*She displayed this attitude of oblivious invincibility before she met me.*

*Rhiannon,*
Lord O’Byrne sent,
*would you need more manpower to pull off either of these schemes?*

*I’m not sure,*
she answered.
*We would need to be very judicious in deploying Irish troops. We need this all to appear to be driven by those inside the Russian Clans. You know how the Russians are. At the first suspicion that outsiders are manipulating them, or driving what’s going on, that would be the end of it.*

Telepathic communications are far faster than if they were conducted verbally. Within twenty minutes, the various plans had been discussed, decisions made, and Rhiannon had her orders. The only thing that caught her by surprise was that one more person from O’Donnell would be joining her team.

~~~

When Galina returned to consciousness, she found herself in a windowless locked room with a bed and a bathroom. No chairs or tables, not even a mirror, the room was as bare as a cell. The only clothing she could find was the simple cotton petticoat she was wearing. She tried to send her mind out to assess her environment, and found that she couldn’t. Panic set in.

A few minutes later, she heard the door being unlocked. A man and a woman walked in, and she became very aware of the skimpy covering she wore.

“Galina Alexandrovna,” Rhiannon said, “I’m Ekaterina Andreyevna Kuznetsova, your hostess. I trust you slept well.”

“How did I get here?” Galina asked. The last memory she had was questioning Irina in the safe house near the train station.

“You made a very grave mistake,” Rhiannon said. “You kidnapped our friend and killed several of our employees. You were set up by Vasily Lapin on orders of Sergei Gorbachev, and you fell for it. And now we need to determine what to do with you.” Of course, Lapin wasn’t working on Sergei’s orders, but Galina didn’t need to know that.

“What have you done to me?” Galina’s panic at not being able to access her Gifts was growing. She didn’t know what it felt like to have her Gifts burned out, and physically she didn’t feel any different than before, but she couldn’t figure out another explanation.

“You’re a prisoner. We’ve taken away your weapons, your defenses and your ability to call for help. Isn’t that what you did to our friend? Filled her full of dangerous drugs so she couldn’t use her Gifts? But Galina, we aren’t fools. As you’ve proven, drugs aren’t foolproof.”