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Broken Dolls: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 3)

Page 14

by BR Kingsolver


  I figured I should just wander around for a while and get a feel for the place. I went out by the pool, snagged a glass of lemonade and a handful of canapés. Most of the people there were women, many wearing less than I was, doing their best to cook themselves. As for me, I was slathered with sunscreen. Telepaths don’t get cancer, but I definitely sunburn. Dying my hair black wouldn’t help that.

  A couple of men and one older woman made some very indecent proposals to me. In spite of myself, and possibly because there was so much beautiful flesh they could have chosen from, I smiled widely as I declined.

  After a quick tour of the place, I decided that I might as well take some advantage of the situation. I paid for a massage from a very handsome young man in a pink and purple swimsuit. I felt like a queen by the time he finished. He offered to make my day even more memorable, but again I declined.

  Talking to a woman in a buffet line near the pool, I got an idea. I approached one of the dressed staff members and asked her if I might be able to watch a particular performance. It didn’t faze her a bit. I soon found myself sitting in a small room with a one-way mirror. On the other side was a brunette succubus shagging a man who looked to be eighty or ninety years her senior. Nice try, RB, but the girl wasn’t Myrna.

  I approached the woman who had set me up.

  “It’s just not doing it for me,” I told her. “Perhaps if I could choose from your available talent, I might find something more to my taste.”

  “Of course,” she said, and my spirits soared. “The price for a designed show would be higher.”

  “How much higher?” I’d paid one hundred euros to watch two people shag. I never watch porn. I can’t imagine anything more boring.

  “One thousand,” she said.

  Lorenzo had supplied two thousand. I still couldn’t figure out why. I had also brought another thousand of my own, I mean Lord O’Byrne’s, money.

  “All right,” I said, attempting nonchalance.

  She took me to a computer and pulled up a page of pictures. On the third page, I saw Myrna.

  “That girl. And that man,” I said, pointing to a tall, fit black man. I figured the pairing was sufficiently different from what I’d seen before that it would allay any suspicion.

  She checked something on the computer, then said, “I’m sorry, but the woman isn’t available.”

  “Not available? Well, we could do this later, when she is available.”

  “We need to update our offerings. The girl is no longer with us. Perhaps you’d like to choose another?”

  I thanked her but declined, trying to sound as peevish as I imagined a snotty rich bitch would sound.

  Popping into a nearby loo, I changed into my servant’s bikini, stashed my bag in a ventilation duct, and headed out toward the off-limits area where I had seen a number of servants going in and out. I managed to enter the building without being waylaid by any amorous customers and went looking for the succubus I’d seen performing.

  As I’d suspected, I found myself in a dormitory. Everyone I saw was beautiful, men and women, and no one seemed to look at me twice. Probably there was enough turnover that someone new was unremarkable. A few inquiries led me to a room. I knocked, and a woman’s voice said, “Come in.”

  It was the brunette succubus I’d seen earlier. She had a Glow on from her encounter.

  “Hello. My name is Rimma. Do you mind if I come in?”

  “No,” she said.

  One look in her eyes told me that she had the same problem as the girls in Dublin. She really wasn’t there. Lady O’Byrne had reported that once the constructs and compulsions were removed, the girls we found in Dublin were all fine. They would need a lot of counseling, but a Healer would speed up the process by dulling the memories of what they had endured.

  O’Donnell’s experience in the States was a mixed bag. Some of the girls they’d recovered had been “prepared” the same way as the girls in Ireland. Others had been completely mind wiped before receiving a construct.

  I didn’t know which process had been employed on this girl, but for my purpose, it didn’t matter. She would remember everything she’d experienced since receiving her construct.

  “I’m looking for a friend that I thought worked here. She’s a succubus, and her name is Myrna.”

  “Oh, yes, I remember her,” the girl said brightly. “But she’s not here anymore.”

  “Do you know when she left?” I asked, holding my breath as I waited for her answer.

  “She ran away on Tuesday. Or maybe she left with a patron. Wait, let me think.”

  Tuesday. We were speaking on Thursday. I was close.

  “I remember now. They discovered she was missing on Tuesday morning. There was a lot of commotion. Then later they told us it was all a mistake. Her contract was purchased by a patron and she had gone to live with him in a castle. Isn’t that marvelous?”

  Her voice at the end took on the tone of a little girl delighted at a fairy tale. If the people who did this to her had been standing in front of me, I’d have killed them all. Slowly and painfully.

  “Do you remember how long Myrna was here?” I asked.

  “Not very long. She came two weeks ago. She was special.”

  “Special in what way?”

  “She only entertained a few select patrons. I heard someone say she was a private acquisition. Whatever that is.”

  I left her there, though it hurt to do so. I found my way out of the dorm and, trying to look like someone with a place to go, walked quickly across the compound, avoiding patrons and the non-purchasable staff.

  I snuck back to the loo in the main palace, changed back to my own bikini and hung the medallion around my neck. Goddess help me, I breathed a sigh of relief. The thought that I might be trapped there as a servant was one of the most oppressive I’d ever had.

  ~~~

  When Vlad delivered me back to the hotel in Vincennes, I told Lorenzo what I’d discovered from the young succubus. I told him I hadn’t found Myrna, which was the truth, but I still didn’t trust him completely.

  I spent the following two days sniffing around Paris, visiting various clubs, hoping to get a scent of Myrna. I believed the first version of the story; that she had run away.

  On Sunday morning, Mum went out for brunch with a man she was dating. She rushed back into the flat two hours later.

  “Rhi, you’ll never guess what happened!”

  “Probably not. Why don’t you tell me?

  “The word is that O’Donnell raided Palais de Plaisir last night, did an incredible amount of damage, and captured all the staff. I heard that they have taken over the place and cancelled all reservations.”

  I was stunned. I called Lorenzo on my mobile.

  “Yes, the raid was a direct result of your visit,” he told me. “I couldn’t tell Interpol about the operation, so I called Nigel Richardson and told him.”

  “You know Nigel?”

  “Of course. How do you think I found out about you?”

  I suddenly felt both embarrassed and stupid.

  “RB? Did you think I’d let that continue after what you told me?” He sounded hurt.

  “I never thought anyone would have the balls to go into the Palais and try to break up the slave trade. Especially that close to Paris.”

  “It turns out that Seamus O’Donnell has balls the size of the moon,” he laughed. “I’m still trying to get all the details, but evidently O’Donnell has declared the estate their property. I assume the official papers will show that in the morning.”

  I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

  “RB? If you would like to go out there, I can take you this evening.”

  I thought about it. Someone inside O’Donnell was feeding information to people who wanted to kill me.

  “Did you tell them how you got your intelligence?” I asked.

  “Do you mean did I tell them of your involvement? No, I didn’t.”

  Thank the Goddess.

/>   “No, I don’t need to go out there. I’ve seen all I need to. I don’t think the girl I’m looking for is there anymore.”

  ~~~

  Chapter 16

  Over the next few days, I tried to figure out where a young succubus would go to hide. I spent a lot of time checking tourist hotels, especially those catering to English-language customers. Myrna’s history of hanging out at hotels in Dublin made me think she might fall into a pattern she considered comfortable. I’d checked with Morrighan, and she said the girl didn’t speak French. Of course, for a telepath that wasn’t a huge barrier. I didn’t even know if she was alone. It seemed probable that someone had helped her escape the Palais.

  I found telltale signs of succubi at several hotels. When a customer doesn’t check out on time, and is found sleeping and the staff can’t wake him, it leaves an impression on them. But Myrna wasn’t the only succubus in Paris, and no one remembered a girl matching her description. Again, that didn’t necessarily mean she hadn’t been there. She could have blurred people’s memories.

  Of all the clubs I visited, the one where I’d met Lorenzo seemed most likely if she was seeking other telepaths. If she was hunting norms, there were thousands of possibilities. I finally had to admit I was hunting for the proverbial needle in a haystack. I had no clue where to look.

  Lorenzo called and asked me out to dinner. I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, and I needed someone to talk to besides Mum. He knew Paris better than I did, so maybe he had some ideas I hadn’t considered.

  He took me to one of the fanciest restaurants in the Latin Quarter. Crystal glasses and chandeliers, superb food and wine, and candle-lit ambiance. During dinner, he was charming and witty. I don’t remember exactly when, but at some point I relaxed and started to enjoy myself.

  After dinner, he took me to a club with a torch singer and a telepathic clientele that was mostly older than I was. The next thing I knew, it was early morning. We left the club, and he flagged down a taxi to take me home.

  “Lorenzo, I had a wonderful time. Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure, Rhiannon. I hope you enjoyed yourself enough that I can see you again.”

  We were standing close, and looking up at him I had an overwhelming urge come over me. I put my arms around his neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him. Oh, Goddess, the man knew how to kiss. I melted against him.

  I don’t know how long we stood there, but the taxi driver cleared his throat and brought us back to the present. I glanced at the open car door, then back at Lorenzo.

  “I don’t want to go home,” I said.

  A slow smile grew on his face. He leaned down and gave me a soft, quick kiss, then told the driver to take us to a hotel near there.

  While he was checking in, I briefly wondered if doing this was a good idea. I contacted Mum so that she wouldn’t worry, and she expressed the same concerns. Then he turned and smiled at me. I brushed all my reservations aside.

  ~~~

  When I woke up, the sun shone through the window. I was alone in the king-size bed, but I could hear water running in the bathroom. I pushed the sheet off me and stretched, hands over my head, arching until only my hands and heels were on the bed. The bathroom door opened.

  “My God, you’re beautiful,” he said, standing nude in the doorway.

  “You talk too much. Why don’t you come over here and kiss me good morning?”

  We made it out of the room two hours later. I discussed my dilemma with him while sitting at a sidewalk table eating breakfast.

  “I just don’t know where to look,” I said. “She’s never been to Paris before. I don’t know whom she might know here. I don’t know if she’s had a construct implanted. I do know that she hasn’t attempted to contact anyone she knows in Ireland.”

  Lorenzo considered the situation. “I agree that she probably didn’t escape the Palais by herself. If she left with someone, I would assume that either she doesn’t have a control construct, or the person she left with was the one in control of the construct.”

  That made sense.

  “One thing that’s certain,” he said, “if she doesn’t have a construct, she isn’t helpless. In spite of her age, you have to remember that a succubus is a predator. She wouldn’t be hiding in fear. She would take control of her situation and manipulate it to her advantage.”

  “That’s why I’ve been checking out hotels. A succubus could live in a hotel forever without anyone knowing. It would have everything she needs. Men, food, a place to sleep, and she could control the staff and blur their memories of her.”

  “The same could be said for a train,” he pointed out. “She could be in London or Marseilles or Berlin by now.”

  “Why a train instead of a plane?”

  “Because I have more faith in the watch I’ve placed on the airports than on the trains,” he replied with a smile. “Too many boarding points to watch.”

  I leaned over and kissed him. “It’s far more pleasurable to brainstorm this with you than doing it by myself, but this isn’t getting us anywhere.”

  ~~~

  Lorenzo offered to pay for a cab, but instead I did the walk of shame on the metro back to Mum’s. It’s interesting to note the reactions when you’re wearing an evening dress in the middle of the day. An old woman, probably in her 80s, gave me a wink and a smile.

  That evening, Lorenzo called. “Rhiannon, I think we’ve found her. One of my men says a girl matching her description just entered Excès Dans Toutes les Choses. Are you close?”

  “I can be there in twenty minutes.”

  When I was a block away from the club, a man stepped out of an ally ahead of me. I immediately covered with an air shield and made ready to fight. But when he moved into the light of a street lamp, I saw it was Lorenzo.

  “Is she still inside?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He projected an image of the girl he had seen. It was Myrna.

  “Great. Let’s go see if we can pick her up.”

  He chuckled. “I’d probably have a better chance of doing that than you would.”

  I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss. “Don’t go picking up other women when I’m around. You’ll give me a complex.”

  “Does she know what you look like?”

  “No, we’ve never met.”

  Once again, I wasn’t dressed to the club’s standards, but since I was with Lorenzo, they let me in. I went to the loo and changed so I wouldn’t stand out so much, while he scouted around for her.

  *I’ve found her,* he sent. *She’s with a man.*

  That didn’t surprise me. She was a succubus. I found Lorenzo and he pointed out where Myrna was sitting. I was immediately glad for my black hair. Myrna might not know who I was, but the man she was with did. It was Brendan O’Driscoll.

  *Lorenzo, the man she’s with knows me. Even with the black hair, I think he’ll recognize me.*

  He took a step away from me and looked me up and down.

  *Take off your bra.*

  *What?*

  *Take off your bra. De-emphasize your chest and change your profile. Walk differently. Take smaller, more lady-like steps. Do something different with your hair. I think the black hair will disguise you enough if you don’t get too close to him. Most men couldn’t tell what color your eyes were if they spent a week with you.*

  *What color are my eyes?*

  *Green. I’m not most men.*

  I thought that his bra idea was pretty stupid. Without a bra, I’d bounce around more and attract even more attention than normal. Not to mention that women aren’t completely immune to succubi’s pheromones. The atmosphere of the club was saturated with them. My nipples were rock hard and the dress material was pretty thin.

  But on the chance that his idea of changing my profile might have some merit, I went back to the loo and changed into the tight sports bra I had in my bag. I also brushed my hair so that it fell across my forehead and used a couple of pins to hold it.

  We got a ta
ble where we could watch Brendan and Myrna, but they couldn’t see us. We agreed that we couldn’t do anything to snatch her in the club, so we would follow and take them when they left.

  It took three hours. A number of men stopped to talk with O’Driscoll during that time. I figured out that he was looking for a buyer for her. Finally, he seemed to strike a deal with a man, and the three of them headed for the exit.

  A taxi pulled up to the curb, then suddenly accelerated and took off.

  *Did you do that?* I asked Lorenzo.

  He nodded.

  With a curse, O’Driscoll pulled out his mobile and made a call. While he was distracted, I threw an air shield around him, then dashed forward and grabbed Myrna. Lorenzo and I hadn’t worked out any plan, but O’Driscoll’s distraction seemed too good an opening to ignore. The other man watched us, but didn’t do anything.

  Myrna didn’t put up any resistance at first. I had caught her totally by surprise. O’Driscoll reacted to my movement, but when he tried to take a step toward us, he ran into the air shield.

  *Hold them here,* I sent to Lorenzo. I threw the girl over my shoulder and took off running.

  Telepaths differ from normal humans in a number of ways. In addition to our mental powers, we’re also physically stronger and quicker. I quickly put a block’s distance between the club and us. I still had O’Driscoll confined in the air shield. I could probably hold him for another block or two. I stopped and dropped Myrna to her feet.

  “Who are you? What the hell are you doing?” she screamed, swinging wildly at me. She hit me in the side of the head and the chest.

  I didn’t have time for this, and I wasn’t going to let an angry succubus attack me with her mental powers. I battered through her shields and captured her mind. Lucky for me I did. She was getting ready to hit me with a burst of Neural Disruption energy.

  “Come on,” I said, taking her by the arm. “I’ll explain later. Run.”

  She wasn’t in the best of shape, and panted like a bellows after a couple of blocks. At some point, we got too far from O’Driscoll, and I lost the air shield around him. We slowed to a walk as I tried to figure out exactly where we were. I needed to find a metro station or a bus. Once I got the girl back to Mum’s, I’d figure out what to do next.

 

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