Succubus Rising, An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga)

by BR Kingsolver

  “News travels fast, doesn’t it?” Rebecca exclaimed.

  “I know all the family secrets,” Jared told them, “I do the paperwork.”

  “Huh?” The two women turned blank faces to each other, then back to him.

  “I’m the family lawyer. I do all the personal stuff, like changing Brenna’s last name. And yours, if you decide to do it. I’ll have all the paperwork done by the end of the week, and I’ll need to know by then.”

  Brenna’s brow furrowed and she said, “I didn’t know you’re a lawyer. I thought you’re a Protector.”

  “That’s my day job, but occasionally I step into a phone booth and change into,” he gave a hop and spread his arms theatrically, “Lawyer Man. After all, I have to have something to fall back on. I do all the stuff that’s no one else’s business -- wills, adoptions, name changes, creative passports, that sort of thing. Which reminds me, you ladies should think about making wills, just in case.”

  “I don’t need a will,” Rebecca said with a toss of her hair, “Just give all my jewelry to Irina.”

  “And what about the bank account?” Jared asked.

  “Pfff, just use what’s left to throw a wake.”

  He chuckled, “Even with the way this family parties, that would be one hell of a wake. Even Solstice Ball doesn’t cost that much.”

  Rebecca froze. “What are you talking about?”

  “Haven’t you talked to Callie?” Jared asked.

  She shook her head.

  “You need to. She can fill you in on the financial stuff.”

  “What financial stuff?”

  Brenna started laughing. “Rebecca, nothing is simple or straight forward in this family. I have a feeling Seamus didn’t tell you everything.”

  Downstairs in Callie’s office, Rebecca stuck her head in the door, “Have you got a minute? Jared said I need to talk with you.”

  “Rebecca.” Callie jumped up and hugged her. “I was so happy when Father told me.” She kissed Rebecca full on the lips with a loud smacking sound. “Honey, welcome to the family.”

  Blushing and smiling, Rebecca murmured, “Thank you. Jared said I needed to talk to you about finances. I don’t understand. Don’t I still get paid even if I’m a family member?”

  Callie laughed, “Oh, honey, yes, you still have your job.” She saw relief in Rebecca’s face. “Sit down. When his children and grandchildren were born, Seamus gave each of us a block of stock in O’Donnell Group. He told me once that he hates people hitting him up for money, and this solves the problem. As part of the adoption, he told me to allocate a grandchild’s birth share to you. So that’s what Jared is talking about.”

  “Oh, well, he didn’t have to do that. Callie, I didn’t expect to get his money. That’s not why I said yes.”

  Callie’s smile was kind, “Honey, I know that. I also know that when my half-sister Jill came of age, she was surprised to find out she had a birth gift. Her mother never told her. But she came and spent summers here when she was in high school just because she loved her father. It makes him happy, and it gives you independence. You can do anything you want and don’t have to worry about starving.”

  “I’m already doing what I want. Independence? Geez, how much is it?”

  “Two hundred shares of stock. The dividend pays yearly in January. You can’t sell it, of course, though I guess you probably could to someone else in the family. But no one ever has. Brenna inherited her father’s stock along with her birth gift, so that actually makes her the second-largest stockholder after Seamus.” Callie chuckled, “She has two hundred shares more than I do. Not that it matters. The only vote that counts is Father’s.”

  Callie reached into a drawer of her desk. “I already set up an account for you. Here’s the debit card, and you should probably talk to someone about investing some of it. Brenna has been through this already, so she should be able to give you some help.”

  “Invest? How much is this dividend?”

  “It varies from year to year, depending on our profits. This year it will be about a thousand a share.”

  “Two hundred thousand dollars?”

  “Yes, less taxes of course. You’ll get that in January.”

  “Then what’s this debit card for?”

  Callie looked puzzled, “For your bank account.”

  “Yeah, but what’s in the bank account?”

  “The first twenty-five years of dividends.”

  Rebecca stared at Callie, trying to make sense of what she had said. Then the light went on. “Wait, you’re paying me for my whole life? For the time before my adoption?”

  With a soft smile, Callie said, “I’m not paying you anything. It’s a birth gift from your grandfather, Rebecca. You weren’t born yesterday.”

  “Wait, that’s not right.”

  “Argue with Father about it. If you win, let me know how you convinced him. I never have when he has his mind set.”

  “How much is in this account?”

  Shuffling some papers on her desk, Callie picked one up, “Seven million, two hundred sixty-three thousand, four hundred seventeen dollars.” She smiled brightly, “Isn’t compound interest a wonderful thing?”

  Her head reeling, Rebecca went off to find Brenna.

  “So, now that you’re rich, what do you want that you weren’t able to buy before?” Brenna asked. “Come on, there has to be something. With me, it was clothes that fit. Think.”

  Rebecca stared at her, at the debit card, back at Brenna. Then it hit her, the one thing in her life that always irritated her. She could fix it. Whirling, she strode out the door, a curious Brenna in her wake.

  Arriving at the stables, she went to Rory’s office. “Rory, you know someone who makes custom saddles, don’t you?”

  “Ah, lassie, of course. And what kind of fancy saddle would ye be wanting? They’re nay cheap, they aren’t, but well worth the money.”

  “I want a well-padded saddle, a ladies’ saddle, with long stirrups.”

  The old man chuckled. “Well, let me guess, the only saddles we have around here for a lassie with legs like yours is a man’s saddle, isn’t it? And ye’re nay as wide in the butt as your friend here.” Brenna blushed. “How pretty d’ye want it?”

  “I don’t care about pretty, I just want comfortable,” Rebecca told him.

  “Now, ye spend a pretty penny on a custom saddle, ye might as well make it pretty.”

  “Rory, I don’t know squat about saddles. I’d never been on a horse until you taught me to ride. Can you order me one?”

  “If ye want it done right, ye’ll have to go see the man in Maryland and get measured. I can set it up. It’ll cost ye, though, probably four, five thousand, maybe more.”

  “Rory, Rebecca didn’t tell you her news,” Brenna said slyly.

  “Oh, and what news would that be? Ye hit the lottery?”

  Blushing furiously, Rebecca muttered, “It kind of feels like it. Oh, shit, I shouldn’t do this. Everyone’s going to think …”

  She didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. Brenna reached up and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t you say it. Don’t you ever even think it. God help me, Rebecca. If I ever hear anyone say that about you, I’ll take their brains out and give them to the dog. Now shut up, and order the damn saddle.”

  Head cocked, eyebrow arched, Rory regarded them.

  “Seamus is adopting her as his granddaughter,” Brenna told him.

  Momentary surprise passed across the old man’s face, then with a crooked smile he told Rebecca, “Anyone who knows Seamus knows that he’s doin’ it ‘cause he loves ye. Don’t ye worry about it, lassie. Somes who don’t know any better might say somethin’ about Cindy, too, but ye know that’s not right, don’t ye? Besides, anyone knows the two of ye would know ye could have had that saddle a long time ago. Ye never told Brenna them saddles hurt, did ye? “

  He jotted something on the tablet on his desk. “I’ll set up an appointment with the man in Maryland fo
r ye. Now run along. It’s a nice fall day.”

  They went for a walk, enjoying the pretty day and the spectacular colors that were painting the sides of the valley. Rebecca was very quiet, and Brenna allowed her the privacy of her thoughts.

  Arriving back at the manor house, Rebecca went to see Callie again.

  “Callie, where do wilders come from?”

  Brow furrowed, Callie tried to make sense of the question. “I’m not sure what you’re asking. I assume you’re not looking for a cabbage leaf story.”

  “When I first came here, you told me that sometimes norms have latent genes that might manifest in a child. But that’s bullshit, isn’t it? Brenna says that telepathy is a dominant gene. There are norms living here in the valley, aren’t there?”

  “A few, maybe a dozen. Sometimes telepaths marry norms.”

  “But all of their children are telepaths. They never have normal children, do they?”

  Callie sighed, “No, not that I know of.”

  “So I’m adopted.”

  A sharp pain shot through Callie, a product of her Empathy and the pain she saw in Rebecca’s eyes.

  “If I had to lay a bet, then I’d say yes.”

  “So somewhere is a son of a bitch who couldn’t keep it in his pants, and a woman who either couldn’t take care of me, or couldn’t stand the sight of me and gave me away.”

  Callie couldn’t say anything, couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “You could run my DNA through your database and find a match, couldn’t you?”

  “If your parents are in my database, I might be able to find at least one of them. The X chromosome with the S-gene complex would be the easiest to match. Do you want me to do that?”

  Rebecca was silent, staring from her hands to Callie, to the pictures on the wall. “I don’t know. Let me think about it. But I do know the answer to one question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m going to change my name. If you see Jared before I do, let him know. At least I know one family who wants me.”

  ~~~

  CHAPTER 7

  Calvin: “Do you believe in the devil? You know, a supreme evil being dedicated to the temptation, corruption, and destruction of man?” Hobbes: “I’m not sure that man needs the help.” – Calvin and Hobbes, Comic strip

  Karen asked Brenna to join her for lunch with Representative Townsend. When they arrived, Margaret had already finished one martini, and the second was being delivered by the waiter. She was obviously upset.

  “That bastard should be shoved in a hole,” she hissed. “There isn’t a single reason why this funding shouldn’t be passed except for his pandering to the redneck Bible thumpers in his district.”

  “Okay,” Karen chuckled, “and exactly which bastard are we referring to. That description could encompass most of the House leadership.”

  “Dan Macklin, chairman of the Appropriations Committee,” Margaret replied. “He’s threatening to kill all family planning services, starting with funds for outreach clinics for the poor on the grounds that they offer such services. Hell, that’s only about ten percent of what they do, and besides, he’s the one always railing against welfare mothers having more children. Told me once that if they’d accept the Lord as their savior, they wouldn’t be screwing around and having so many kids. He’s a fine one to talk about screwing around.”

  “And you think we might be able to do something for you?” Brenna asked.

  Townsend sighed. “Yes, I called you with the idea that you might be able to convince him to back down and let the bill go through. It’s a continuation of a program that’s been in place for decades, and I know if it makes it into the final appropriations bill, it will pass.”

  “You said he likes to screw around?” Karen prompted.

  “Well, I know that he has a personal secretary whose skills are definitely more on the personal side, and there have been rumors of private ‘prayer meetings’ with some of his interns through the years. There was also a bit of quickly-hushed murmuring surrounding the daughter of a television minister last year. Said minister used to funnel a lot of money to Macklin’s campaign but isn’t doing that anymore.”

  Brenna smiled brightly, “Oh goody, I’ve never played a minister’s daughter before. That could be fun.”

  Karen laughed, and Townsend looked uneasy.

  “I think you’d have to change the way you dress a bit to pull that one off,” Townsend said.

  “’But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart’, Matthew 5:28,” Brenna quoted. “Or how about, ‘Flee from sexual immorality. Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body’, First Corinthians 6:18. And then there's always this one, ‘For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption’, Galatians 6:8.”

  Smiling, she took a sip of her wine, “I think I could play the vicar’s daughter quite nicely. As a matter of fact, it would be fun. I’ve never met him before, so he doesn’t know how I normally dress, and I have some very conservative outfits.”

  Townsend and Karen stared at her in disbelief.

  “’Know your enemies’, Sun Tzu.” Brenna shrugged. “I have an eidetic memory.” She didn’t mention that over half of all telepaths also did.

  “So what do you want? Public scandal? Incriminating pictures?” Karen asked.

  Margaret thought about it, “As enjoyable as it might be, I think public scandal is too short-sighted. Having something on him would be more useful in the long run.”

  “And would you want us to present him with the evidence, or do you want to put him in your pocket so you can use him as you like in the future? You know you can’t overplay your hand on this sort of thing.”

  “I understand that. I think perhaps the best way is have you present it to him, and I’ll let him know I’m aware he’s been compromised. Strategically used, it could pay benefits for years.”

  “Speaking of pay,” Karen said, “a standard retainer for lobbying work would be $20,000. I think one of your political action committees should contract us for general assistance.”

  Townsend nodded. “It seems I’m using your assistance a lot.”

  ~~~

  The next day, Brenna showed up at Representative Macklin’s office just as he was walking out the door for a meeting. Dressed in a white blouse buttoned to the throat and black skirt that reached her knees, she carried a briefcase and a Bible. Rebecca had always maintained that putting makeup on Brenna was a waste of time and resources, and indeed all the succubi used it sparingly. Combined with a bit of Glam, her freshly scrubbed face was beatific.

  When she ran into him the third time that day, the collision caused her to drop everything she was carrying. Bending over in front of him to retrieve her Bible, she apologized profusely with a hint of West Virginia accent coloring her normally cultured voice.

  “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I hope you’re not hurt at all,” she exclaimed with wide-eyed innocence. Placing her hand on his, she ran a quick scan of his health, especially his heart. The experience of Senator Evans’ death still haunted her.

  “No, my dear, are you all right?” he answered. Glancing at the Bible he said, “It’s nice to see a young person who carries their Bible with them, even in this den of iniquity.”

  “Oh, yes, sir. I use it for inspiration constantly. It helps me to take the shield of faith so as to quench the fiery darts of the wicked one. In a big city like this there are so many excitements to sin and temptations to do wrong.”

  “Yes, I find it a great comfort myself,” he said, staring at her chest, then switching his attention to her open Bible where the bookmarker lay in Galatians 5:19. He took it from her and read silently, then looked up to meet her eyes. She blushed furiously. “And is this part of what you need a shield from?”

  The ability to regulate her body temperature was a very handy Gift
. Brenna’s face flamed crimson as she reached for the Bible. “I ... there are ... sometimes ... I have unclean thoughts,” she stammered. She gave him a small puff of pheromones to encourage his own unclean thoughts. “Sometimes I just wish I had someone here to pray with, to help me when … to help me cope with things.”

  By the end of the week, Macklin had invited her to join him for a private prayer session at his office, and afterward extended an invitation for dinner and another prayer session at his condo Saturday night. Knowing that his wife was home in Kentucky, Brenna reported to Karen that he was as good as bagged.

  ~~~

  She had to admit that Macklin was very polished at seducing impressionable young religious girls who sometimes had unclean thoughts. He greeted her with a glass of wine and they had wine with the catered dinner. Coffee and a rather strong cordial were followed by him reading the Bible to her in a comfortable and dimly lit parlor. She had to stifle a laugh as he read from First Kings and then from Song of Songs while sitting next to her on the couch.

  Brenna helped him along, dribbling pheromones and showing obvious discomfort as the evening progressed. She displayed that discomfort by wriggling in her seat, commenting on how hot it was and unbuttoning her blouse to fan herself. Her face became more flushed as he read, and she began to lean against him.

  “There are some beautiful passages, aren’t there?” she breathed. “It’s enough to make you wonder if people really understand God’s purpose, or why else would He give us such wonderful inspiration such as this?”

  When he leaned over and kissed her, she responded with enthusiasm, more Influence, and a good puff of pheromones. She triggered the remote for the camera that was hidden in the clasp of her purse, which was sitting on a table pointed at the couch. Not long after, as the Bible said, he ‘came into her’, her blouse and bra open, her skirt around her waist and her panties on the floor.

  As he pushed into her, he quoted Luke 1:28, “And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou art highly favored, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women.”

  Brenna responded with the Song of Songs, “We will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine.”