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

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Broken Dolls: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 3) Page 18

by BR Kingsolver


  “You’re wrong. I’m not like those other girls. They’re stupid. I understand the game completely. Sure, Brendan sold me for two million pounds. We split the money. Donald sold me for another two million, and we split the money. So far, we’ve sold me five times. I’m rich. And now we’re selling my eggs to Siegfried for a million euros. I’ve already started taking fertility drugs. Brendan and I are partners. And we’ve just gotten started.”

  I re-entered Siegfried’s mind through the keyhole I’d made. Sure enough. They had convinced Siegfried that he could make more money selling eggs rather than selling the girls to the Chinese. He was planning on doing the same thing with the other succubi in his stable.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” I said. “Do you think the people you’re being sold to are stupid? Do you think they won’t catch on after a while?”

  “We know that. It was just to get seed money. Brendan sells me, then I run away, then he sells me again. That part of the plan went okay at first. Then David got killed, and that bastard Brandt got funny ideas.”

  “Brandt wanted to implant a construct,” I guessed.

  “Yeah, he brought in that icky guy to fix me. I tried telling him that it wasn’t necessary. That I wasn’t like the other girls, but he wouldn’t listen. So Brendan came and got me.”

  “How many times do you think you can pull that scam off? Brandt already guessed your game. There aren’t that many people willing to buy you.”

  “I know that. But there’s a lot more money to make in other ways.”

  “Such as?” I had gradually moved closer to her as we talked. I wasn’t worried about the gun, but of the noise it would make.

  “Art. Jewelry. A Druid has hours, days, to go through someone’s house after the trick falls asleep. It’s easy to get the combinations to safes, safety deposit boxes, anything you want. There’re lots of rich men who like sweet, sexy little girls. Gordon and Siegfried are fools. They just want to sell girls for sex. The real payoff is from rich humans. And you can take them over and over. It’s really easy to wipe their memories. They don’t even know they’ve met me before.”

  I’d been told that Myrna was smart. Because she was young, Morrighan and I made the mistake of thinking she was naive.

  “You want to become a thief,” I blurted out.

  She laughed. “Does that offend you? Lots of Druids become courtesans. It’s an accepted career choice. But how much can you really make? A few million a year if you’re lucky. I want to own castles, like the mistresses of kings used to do. I want to have the glamorous lifestyle, but I don’t want to be dependent on a bunch of old men. It’s foolproof. What cop is going to catch me? The marks don’t even know they’ve been fleeced. As long as I don’t try to rip off telepaths, no one will care.”

  “Is that what O’Driscoll told you?”

  “That’s what I told him! He’s not the one who figured it out. I did. I need a partner, and Brendan works nicely.”

  So what was I to do? The girl was of legal age, and although I didn’t agree with her ethics or her career choice, I wasn’t the police. She was right. As long as she confined her activities to norms, the telepathic community would ignore her. I doubted that Lord O’Byrne wanted her back.

  “So you’re moving on to your next phase? O’Driscoll is going to stop trafficking girls?” I asked.

  “I don’t care if Brendan has his hobby. It’s no big deal to supply him with a few girls. What do I care what he does with them?”

  “Like Sharon Dunn.”

  “She’s such a dumb bitch. Turning her into a whore was a favor. Now she never has to worry about balancing her stupid energy levels. She’s found her true calling the same way I’ve found mine.”

  Ethical dilemma solved. Myrna wasn’t a nice person. I remembered the glimpse I’d seen of her soul in Paris. The image had stuck in the back of my mind, but I hadn’t consciously thought about it. I’d been puzzled by the gray and brown, not what I expected to see in a young girl. But there were more pressing concerns that night. The mystery became clear. She had the soul of a thief and human trafficker.

  “Well, it seems you have it all worked out,” I said, and leaped forward to grab the gun. I wasn’t quite quick enough, and it went off, the bullet ricocheting off my air shield. She didn’t get another shot off. As soon as I touched the pistol, I used my Magnetokinesis Gift to magnetize the metal. All the working parts immediately froze to each other.

  I sent messages to my Watchers in the hall, and they charged into the room. Myrna relaxed, thinking they were there to help her. I smashed through her shields and captured her mind.

  While the Watchers collected her, I found a suitcase in her closet and filled it with clothes from the closet and dresser. When we left her room, my colonel sent out a broadcast mental message, *Intruder in the compound. All Watchers on duty. Seal all exits.*

  We went to my room and collected my bag. The house was in an uproar, but no one paid any attention to us. Hustling downstairs, the colonel called for a car.

  “We’re on lockdown, Colonel,” a guard told him.

  “I know that, you fool. Siegfried wants us to take the succubus out of danger. Now get us a car.”

  I hoped it came quickly. Trying to control three telepaths at once was beyond anything I’d ever tried to do before. Besides that strain, I was tired and my nerves were shot. So many things could go wrong. A single moment’s slip had let Myrna escape from me in Paris.

  A Mercedes limousine pulled up in front of the house, and we piled in. The guards at the front gate stopped us, but again my colonel browbeat them into letting us go.

  When we approached a main highway without any pursuit, I put Myrna to sleep. She was my main worry. Neither of the Watchers had a Gift that I couldn’t defend.

  “Pull over here,” I had the colonel order. The driver pulled off the road. As soon as he stopped, I had the colonel hit him over the head with a pistol. I didn’t want to attempt to control a fourth person.

  I planted in the driver’s and the Watchers’ minds that they had driven Myrna and me to the airport. I had the Watchers get out of the car and put them both to sleep. I rolled the unconscious driver out of the car and got behind the wheel.

  ~~~

  Lake Constance forms the border where Germany, Austria and Switzerland meet. It took me three hours to drive to Lindau, situated on the lakeshore of the German side, and I was dead tired. I found a mall parking lot and parked the car.

  As I drove, I laid compulsions in Myrna’s mind while she slept. One prevented her from using her Neural Disruption Gift. Another kept her from attacking me or trying to get away. A third was to obey me. That one was the most difficult from an ethical standpoint. We are raised to believe that’s something we should never do to a person.

  I still didn’t trust Myrna so I stayed in her mind. I woke her up and had her change clothes while I did the same.

  We took a bus to the train station, and I bought us tickets for a first-class private compartment to Zurich. I hadn’t had to stop for petrol to get to Lindau, so it was the first time we were advertising our presence to the world. Von Ebersberg’s people shouldn’t be looking for me, but they would be looking for Myrna. Unfortunately, I had to show her passport to get her a ticket. I hoped we were far enough ahead of everyone that we’d be in Zurich before anyone picked up on where we’d gone.

  When we boarded the train, I put her back to sleep. Then I tied her up. Only after that was done did I gratefully allow my exhausted mind to relax. I was asleep before the train pulled out of the station.

  ~~~

  Chapter 21

  The attendant knocked on the door to let me know we were approaching the station in Zurich. The two hours of sleep had helped, but I was groggy.

  *Bronwyn?*

  *Yes, dear.*

  *We’re at the train station in Zurich. I had to use Myrna’s passport in Lindau to buy her ticket. I don’t know if someone might have traced us.*

  *I know. Someon
e at O’Donnell’s offices in London notified Fergus. He called Brian in Paris, and your mother called me. Hans has a security team waiting for you at the station.*

  I relaxed. For the first time in days, I felt like something was going the right way. I woke Myrna and we disembarked. A man in a business suit approached us.

  “Fraulein Kendrick?” he asked. I nodded. “Your grandfather asked us to meet you,” he said in German. He raised his hand and two more men in suits came forward and took our bags.

  They led us to a limousine parked between two black vans and bundled us in the back. The three vehicles pulled out together.

  ~~~

  We spent three days staying at my grandfather Hans’ home in Zurich. I only see him occasionally. Like every ten years. But he always sends me a birthday present. As soon as we reached his place, Bronwyn assumed control of Myrna. Both my Mum and Grandmum are Healers, and their knowledge of the mind and psychology are far beyond my own. Bronwyn modified and strengthened the compulsions I’d placed in Myrna’s mind.

  When Myrna and I were ready to leave, Hans sent us to London in his private jet. Several vans with a small army of Protectors met us at the airport in London.

  Morrighan led Myrna away. The look on Morrighan’s face was one of extreme sadness and pity. I thought her pity was misplaced.

  “Lord O’Byrne sent a plane for her,” Morrighan said over her shoulder. “Wait for me. I’m going to stay here in London with you. We have a meeting with people at the O’Donnell offices.” I had a huge feeling of relief as I watched her lead Myrna away. I hoped I’d never see the murderous little bitch again.

  Edwin and Davin showed me to a limo and got in with me. We waited a few minutes until Morrighan joined us.

  “So that’s the little girl that shot you?” Edwin said, grinning at his brother. “You’ll never live it down.”

  Davin growled at him.

  I chuckled and handed him Myrna’s .32. “Here’s a souvenir for you.”

  We settled in for the ride into the city. Morrighan handed me a bulging envelope. “Lord O’Byrne said you deserve a bonus.”

  I nodded and slipped it inside my jacket. I wasn’t going to argue with him.

  “He also wants to know if you’re willing to extend your engagement,” she continued.

  “What does he want me to do?”

  “He feels that Brendan O’Driscoll should be put out of business.”

  I smiled. “I agree with him. Yes, I’ll take the job.” The day was looking up already.

  “Good,” she said, smiling back.

  “So what’s going on at O’Donnell’s headquarters?” I asked as the limo pulled out of the airport and headed for London.

  “They’re loaning us a Protector who’s also a construct artist,” Morrighan said. There was a sparkle in her eye that I didn’t quite understand.

  ~~~

  We met in a conference room next to Nigel’s office. I looked around as I walked in. Other than Nigel, I didn’t know anyone. But one woman caught my attention and I stopped, thinking I was seeing a ghost. At first, I thought it was Maureen, Morrighan’s older sister. But this woman was very young, and I decided it must be Maureen’s daughter, the heir to the Irish Clans.

  “They didn’t tell me you were going to be here. What a wonderful surprise,” the Maureen clone jumped up and walked around the table toward Morrighan. The two women embraced.

  “It’s good to see you,” Morrighan gave her a radiant smile. “Unfortunately it’s not a very happy situation. We had an incident, and Lord Gordon was in it to his eyeballs, along with his buddy Siegfried von Ebersberg. Let me introduce you to the private investigator who’s been helping us.”

  She turned to me. “This is RB Kendrick,” Morrighan said. “RB, this is my niece, Brenna O’Donnell. She and her friends are here from America.”

  I shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you,” I said automatically.

  Brenna stared at me with kind of a funny look on her face, then with a slight shake of her head, she said, “I don’t know who you know and who you don’t. Let me introduce you. This is Collin Doyle, O’Donnell’s Director of Security.” She indicated an extremely good-looking young man. “My friend Rebecca Healy.” A tall, slender brunette with unusual amber eyes gave me a look similar to the one from Brenna. Like Brenna, she looked as though she was barely out of high school. “Lissette MacDonald ...,” Brenna continued around the table.

  I stopped listening when I looked at Lissette. She was tall and thin with auburn hair, and there was something about her that gave me a feeling I’d met her before. As I took my seat, the light bulb came on.

  “Hello, Miranda,” I said. “Dr. Brockington said to give you his regards.” I couldn’t have described the woman I’d seen in Brockington’s mind. The memories were too fragmented after Myrna had burned out most of his nervous system. But when I saw her then, the fragments all fit the woman across the table from me.

  Nigel’s head whipped around and he stared at Lissette-Miranda.

  “I ... I don’t know a Dr. Brockington,” she said. All the color had drained out of her face.

  “Oh? I was so sure you were the woman I saw in his mind,” I said. “Of course, I could be mistaken. He was dying at the time, crawling around an alley in Paris paralyzed from the waist down, so his thoughts weren’t terribly coherent.”

  Miranda swayed in her seat. From what I’d picked up from Brockington, their relationship wasn’t entirely professional.

  “Lower your shields, Lissette,” Nigel said quietly.

  “What? Why should I?” the woman I had called Miranda said.

  “Because I asked you to. The terms of employment are explained to everyone. I need to verify or refute this accusation.” Nigel’s voice continued to be quiet and even.

  “No. I won’t do it. I resign,” she said.

  Suddenly she screamed, clutching her head and writhing in her seat, causing all of us to jump except Brenna and Rebecca.

  Lissette-Miranda’s eyes lost focus and she stiffened. We all sat silently, staring at her. In seconds, she slumped.

  “I have her mind, Nigel,” Brenna said.

  I couldn’t get over Brenna’s resemblance to Maureen. It was uncanny. Evidently, she had one of the Dominance Gifts, and she had broken Miranda’s shields.

  Miranda’s reaction seemed rather extreme, though. Even when I used my Gift in a brutal hurry, I had ever heard anyone scream like that when I breached their shields. I felt a shudder run through my body as I figured it out. I’d never seen the O’Donnell Gift employed before, but that must be what Brenna had done. It was frightening to think that the young girl with the pretty face was the most dangerous person I’d ever met. She could kill a person with a thought.

  More silence ensued. We sat there for about five minutes. I was barely breathing. I could tell that silent conversations were going on, but I wasn’t invited in.

  “Miss Kendrick,” Nigel said, turning to me, “you have my deepest apology. A major mistake on my part has put your life in jeopardy.” He shook his head. “You were correct that I had a mole. This is Miranda McCormack, an associate of John Brockington. I have been terribly remiss in not vetting my employees well enough.”

  Collin Doyle leaned forward. “Obviously we aren’t screening our employees as thoroughly as we should. She’s wearing a construct that hid her real identity.”

  Brenna and Rebecca both nodded.

  “We don’t normally check for constructs. I think we need to revise our procedures,” Collin continued.

  “Her construct has a number of, ah, idiosyncrasies,” the woman identified as Rebecca said, “that are the same as those implanted in the girls we rescued in the States.”

  We all turned to her.

  Seeing that we were waiting, she continued. “There’s a reason we’re called construct artists. It’s not an exact science and everyone has his or her own personal style. We learn from a teacher, and people trained by the same person tend to create the
ir constructs using techniques that they learned from that teacher. But past that, my constructs will have tell-tales that identify them as mine, and Brenna’s will have her own personal stamp. This woman’s construct has its builder’s signature, if you know what to look for. I can’t explain it. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

  Since only someone who has the Lindstrom Gift could see the construct at all, I took her word for it.

  “Nigel,” Brenna said, “do you have someone who can take this piece of garbage off my hands?”

  Nigel nodded. A Protector entered and Brenna nodded to him. I could tell they had some kind of mental interaction, and then Miranda rose and followed him out of the room.

  Morrighan said, “Well, that was interesting.” She turned to me. “RB, perhaps you can explain why we’re here.”

  I drew a deep breath. I was still unsettled by what Brenna had done. “Lord O’Byrne contacted me a month ago in the matter of a young succubus who had gone missing,” I began. “The attacks on succubi in the States and in Paris concerned him, and he worried that Myrna might have been kidnapped. His concerns turned out to be valid. Morrighan and I tracked her and we discovered she had been sold. In the course of the investigation, we also discovered that succubi, young succubi, are being trafficked along with succubus gene carriers, or halfs as you call them. The trail led to Lord Gordon.”

  The Americans all nodded.

  “We’ve had brushes with Gordon,” Brenna said.

  “Unfortunately,” I continued, “he inconveniently died before I had a chance to question him. I did manage to find some of his associates and they led me to a ring of people involved in the trafficking. I won’t bore you with all the details, but eventually I found the girl I was looking for in Munich and brought her back here.” I didn’t feel as though I needed to tell strangers that Myrna wasn’t worth the effort I’d gone through.

 

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