Brenna’s elation faded, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
“Well, think from now on. I don’t have any choice as to whether I follow you, whether I love you. You’re the one who has all the damn choices. The least you can do is keep me informed.”
Callie’s anxious voice came through the door, “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, we’re okay,” Rebecca called. She lowered her voice, “Are we going back the same way? I’m not sure I can turn around in here. It’s kind of tight.”
Brenna used her telekinesis to turn the doorknob, and Rebecca backed away from her into the office.
“So that’s the twenty-sixth Gift?” Rebecca asked as she started dressing.
“Twenty-eight and counting,” Callie answered dryly. “Are you aware of the auras and reading Gifts?”
“Yeah, she told me about those. She didn’t tell me about walking through walls.” Anger was still apparent in Rebecca’s voice. “Any more surprises, Sis?”
“Not this week,” Brenna said. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“Don’t do it again,” Rebecca said, her face softening.
Curious, Seamus asked, “And how do you think this might be used, as a practical matter?”
Rebecca looked up. “She could walk through a wall, then teleport my team after her. That’s one use. I’m sure I’ll think of others.”
Seamus was impressed, “You truly consider all the things she can do when planning her security?”
Surprised, Rebecca stopped dressing and looked at him. “Of course. I mean, I can’t protect her from everything, but any time we’re apart, I always mark a landing spot for her. I don’t bother worrying about mental attacks. I just set an air shield and let her concentrate on what she needs to do. She’s an O’Neill, for God’s sake. We always decide ahead of time which weapons we’ll use. That eliminates the chance we both choose the same weapon that can be blocked. I may be charged with protecting her, but she’s the most dangerous person on the planet. I cover her back and complement her.”
He shook his head, “You’re both so young and you already think like soldiers. You shouldn’t have to think about anything but boys and dresses.”
Smiling, Rebecca stepped toward him and kissed him on the forehead. “We do think about boys and dresses, pretty much all the time. But, Grandfather, we can multi-task, and we would never neglect the important task of figuring out new ways to annoy you.”
~~~
Seamus and Callie watched Brenna and Rebecca leave. Shaking his head, Seamus heaved a deep sigh.
“Dad,” Callie said, “I was always under the assumption that you had to be in contact with someone to teleport them.”
“You noticed that,” Seamus said. He rose and poured himself another drink. Sinking back into his chair, he looked up at his daughter. “I do have to be in contact with a living being to teleport it. I can transport inanimate objects remotely. I guess I forgot to tell her that when I was teaching her.”
~~~
CHAPTER 10
You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life. – Winston Churchill
Negotiations with the Vargas Clan were going well. Callie was excited about the business possibilities, while Collin was worried about the intelligence he was receiving out of Europe and South America. Seamus provided a sense of calm balance.
“Hope for the best and prepare for the worst,” he told them, sitting in a conference room in the DC complex. “It may seem like a platitude, but anything worth accomplishing has some risk. We’ve poured over a billion dollars into Africa trying to build what might be handed to us in South America, and it has the added bonus of creating a buffer against CBW to our south. I’ve been uneasy about the Consortium for years. That’s why we’ve put so many resources into Mexico and Central America.”
Brenna had another date with Carlos, who had just returned from a trip home. He took her to one of Washington’s nicest and most expensive restaurants. Looking at the prices on the menu, she reflected that it was going to cost her as much as it did him. Rebecca and Brian, one of the members of Brenna’s security team, were seated a discreet distance away, and Brenna was footing their tab. Rebecca winked at her as their waiter presented them with a bottle of wine.
“Brenna, there’s a reception at the Argentine embassy that I’d like you to attend with me,” Carlos told her after the waiter took their order and left them with their own bottle of wine.
“Oh? And exactly why would you want to escort a woman named O’Donnell to a soiree at the Argentine embassy? Isn’t that being a bit blatant?”
He nodded, “It is. My father has already been approached by elements of the Consortium and warned this alliance won’t be viewed favorably. I spoke with your Mr. Doyle earlier today and told him. Your grandfather has said that if we hold firm, he’ll support us.”
“And did you tell Collin and my grandfather that you planned to take me into your enemies’ nest?” By this time, Brenna had linked with Rebecca so she could hear their conversation.
“No, I didn’t. I guess I should have, but that’s not the only reason I wanted you to go with me.”
Smiling, Brenna sipped her wine, “Why, General de Vargas, do you have designs on my reputation?”
He laughed, “I doubt you’re worried about your reputation, Senorita. From what my intelligence tells me, you are quite actively enhancing your reputation here in Washington. In telepathic circles, the beautiful Miss O’Donnell is becoming quite a sensation.”
Brenna thought about that piece of information. “Considering that I rarely date telepaths, I wonder where that is coming from.”
“Your activities on the Hill,” he replied. “I hear the Chinese in particular are unhappy with MacIntyre.”
“Oh, well, if they want us to represent them, perhaps we can help them to be more successful,” Brenna said with a smile. “But I don’t think allowing them free access to information about American technology is in our best interests.”
“You consider genetic research something to be guarded?” he asked. One of the bills Brenna had helped block would have allowed foreign researchers access to American genetic databases. The Chinese Clans had been pushing the bill very hard.
“Yes, we do. Ask yourself why the Chinese would want access to genetic databases. How would you view them coming into South America and recruiting wilders?”
“That’s what you think they’re trying to do?”
“Other possibilities are a selective breeding program, possibly using in vitro techniques, or even recombinant technology. We’ve heard rumors of all of those things. Our intelligence inside China is very sketchy.”
“And yet you have a Hong Kong office.”
“Something else the Chinese aren’t happy about. We provide an alternative to the Chinese Clans and we’ve been very successful in our recruiting. But let’s get back to this Argentine embassy thing. Do you really think it’s safe?”
“Brenna, I wouldn’t ask if I thought I’d be jeopardizing your safety. No one in this town wants to antagonize your grandfather, especially after that display O’Donnell put on last year. The unfortunate incident in Paris only reinforces that. Your Protectors are feared.”
The previous fall, when Cindy was missing, O’Donnell had stormed both the German Embassy and CBW headquarters. In full daylight. If that wasn’t enough, Seamus had ordered thousands of Protectors to move against the Clan that attacked Brenna’s party in Paris.
Brenna chuckled, “You’ve met Rebecca. I’d be scared too.”
Carlos shot a look across the room at Rebecca. Shaking his head, he said, “She confuses me. When I see her, it’s almost impossible to believe she’s anything more than a beautiful young woman. But when I’m close to her, she radiates danger like a jaguar.”
The way he looked at Rebecca took Brenna by surprise. His eyes rested on her far longer than she would have expected for a man who had just dismissed her so readily.
“
Is that all she radiates?” Brenna asked.
Carlos didn’t seem to hear her question at first, then with a start, he said, “Huh? Oh, sorry. I was woolgathering. What did you say?”
“Never mind,” Brenna said with a smile. “It wasn’t important.”
Carlos took her back to his house after dinner and once again impressed her with his considerable bedroom skills. Even with Collin, she’d never had a lover who was so patient and attentive to her needs.
~~~
The next day, she saw Margaret on the Hill and mentioned the reception. “Do you ever go to that sort of thing?” she asked.
“Oh, I used to. I get all kinds of invitations, but after a while I got tired of them, especially all the hassle of trying to find an escort.” She looked thoughtful. “I did get an invitation to that reception. It might be fun to go with you and Jeremy. Would it bother you to double date?”
“Oh, that would be fun,” Brenna replied. “And it couldn’t hurt for me to be associated socially with a member of Congress.”
Brenna had no choice about taking a limo, so she offered a ride to the group. They all went out to eat together then rode to the reception. Watching Jeremy and Margaret over dinner, it became obvious to her they were falling hard for each other. She counted Jeremy as a close friend and was happy for him.
Still fresh to Washington, Brenna enjoyed the reception. It was so much like being in a movie with all the beautiful dresses and elegant surroundings. Carlos was the perfect escort, introducing her to many influential people, and she also made a number of contacts through Margaret. There was some hostility from a few of the Argentine telepaths, but the ambassador was very polite. Indeed, he was complimentary about her work on the Ecuadorian trade treaty and asked for her card.
Flushed and feeling quite good, she thanked Carlos for holding her coat as they prepared to leave. He proposed a place for late drinks and dessert and Margaret agreed. Rebecca called for the limo, and they went outside.
There was a line of cars waiting, and their limo was fourth in line. As they waited, Rebecca watched the other people standing around. Finally, their car pulled up, and as Carlos stepped forward, she had a flash of danger from the entrance of the embassy.
“Gun!” she cried.
Jeremy pushed Margaret behind him and leapt at Carlos, tackling him to the ground. Brenna located the woman holding the gun and smashed her shields, seizing control of her mind, but it took far longer than it normally did, and she was too late to stop the woman from pulling the trigger. The shot sounded very loud, and she saw Jeremy and Carlos fall.
JEREMY! A mental scream assaulted the minds of all who were able to hear it.
Rebecca jumped toward the shooter, wresting the pistol from her hand. O’Donnell Protectors swarmed the scene along with the security guards from the embassy. Hands urged Brenna into the limo, and she resisted only long enough to make sure Margaret was with her. She saw Rebecca grab the shooter and physically pick her up and carry her to the car, throwing her in the open trunk. One of the O’Donnell Protectors slammed it shut while a line of more Protectors stopped several men who attempted to follow her.
Clambering into the limo, Brenna saw Carlos who was pale but alert. Jeremy lay against the far door, holding his arm and covered in blood.
Margaret frantically scrambled toward him, but Rebecca restrained her.
“Let Brenna see to him,” Rebecca spoke into Margaret’s ear, “she’s a healer. He’s only wounded and it’s not too bad. He’ll be okay, Margaret. He’ll be okay.” She tried to enter the older woman’s mind to calm her, but found shields blocking her.
My God. Brenna, she’s a telepath.
I know. She’s the one who screamed, Brenna answered. Then she entered Jeremy’s mind and sought out the wound. He’d taken the bullet in the right bicep, but it missed the bone. She searched for any damage to major veins or arteries and didn’t find any. A huge sense of relief rushed through her, and she started working on shutting off the bleeding. The other Protector in the back of the limo with them handed her a pressure bandage.
I need two. It’s all the way through, she told him. He fumbled in his kit and handed her another. She got Jeremy out of his jacket and ripped the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the wounds. She applied the pressure bandages and then took the roll of tape the Protector handed her. After covering the wound, she began shutting off the bleeding with her Healing Gift.
Do we need a hospital? Rebecca asked.
No, Brenna answered. The limo took a turn, and she knew it was headed for the O’Donnell compound.
Two healers were awaiting them when they arrived. She turned Jeremy over to them and looked down at the blood on her dress. It would never come out of the silk.
“Well, this was an expensive evening,” she said to no one in particular. Turning around, she found the rest of her party standing in the foyer. Rebecca still held Margaret, and Carlos stood with Protectors close around him.
“He’s okay,” Brenna told them and saw them relax. “Where’s the bitch who shot Jeremy?”
“On her way to the basement,” Rebecca told her. “Do you still have her mind?”
“Yeah. Margaret, Jeremy is going to be all right. The wound isn’t very bad. Do you understand me? He’s going to be all right.”
Townsend stared at Brenna, wide-eyed and confused.
Margaret, Jeremy’s going to be okay. He’s not badly hurt, Brenna sent on a spear.
“Oh my God. What are you?” the congresswoman asked, terror filled her voice.
I’m a telepath, just like you are. Margaret, we’re the good guys. Please, let us help you.
“A telepath?” Margaret said, her face blank and her eyes wild.
Brenna could feel the chaos in the woman’s mind. Using her O’Donnell Gift as carefully and gently as she could, she found her way through weaknesses in the woman’s shields and managed to lay a comfort on her. Margaret calmed, and the tension seemed to drain out of her body. She slumped, and Rebecca held her up. Two Protectors picked her up and carried her to an upstairs bedroom.
Karen McIntyre stepped forward and regarded Brenna with sympathy. “You look a mess. What can I do to help? And while we’re at it, what do we do with him?” She indicated Carlos.
“Put him in a bedroom and treat him as a guest,” Brenna answered. “Let him call his people, and they can retrieve him in the morning.”
He heard her and sketched a shallow bow.
“The bigger issue is, what do we do with her,” Brenna said, looking toward the stairs where Margaret had gone.
“I don’t know,” Karen replied. “Rebecca told me what happened. I’ve called Moira.”
Moira O’Reilly was a psychiatrist who specialized in telepathic patients and worked extensively with wilders who came to the Clan.
“Is Mike here?” Brenna asked. Mike Riley was head of security for the DC office.
“Of course not. The man is never here when I need him,” Karen said. Brenna shot her a sharp look. Mike and Karen were lovers, but the relationship seemed to be off and on. “He’s on vacation, deer hunting in West Virginia.”
Brenna remembered that Collin had said he and some friends were going hunting this week. “Shit. I’ll call Collin in the morning. At the very least, I should be able to get Kallen down here. We need to do something with that woman in the basement. Do you have anyone I can hand her off to for the night? I’m holding her mind, but I’m beat. She’s a Kilpatrick, so it needs to be someone strong.”
“I’ll find someone with the O’Byrne Gift to take her. It’s a shame about that dress.”
Finally finding her way to her room, she found Rebecca waiting for her. Her friend helped her to undress, putting the gown to soak in cold water in a hopeful attempt to keep the blood from setting while Brenna showered.
~~~
Brenna slid out of bed in the early morning light. Putting on pajamas and a robe, she went downstairs and found some coffee, then sent a spear to Collin in West Vir
ginia.
Collin, my love, where are you?
About thirty miles from the estate sitting by a campfire drinking coffee and waiting for the bacon to cook.
Is Mike Riley with you?
Yes.
I have a problem in DC, and no senior Protectors are here except Jeremy. He’s wounded and not up to the task. I need an experienced interrogator.
What happened?
Someone tried to kill Carlos de Vargas.
Are you okay?
Don’t you care about Carlos?
I don’t give a bloody Goddamn about Carlos. Are YOU okay?
He’s at the estate. Do you know who the shooter is?
Don Rodrigo Hernandez’ daughter. We have her in the basement.
Bloody hell. Yes, call Kallen and inform Seamus. I’m at least half a day’s ride to the nearest road.
Thank you. Good hunting, my love.
She broke contact and went to see about some breakfast. No one at the estate would be up yet except the kitchen staff. Brenna was notorious for her sleeping habits, rarely needing more than four hours a night and often less. She was used to having the early morning hours to herself and was very aware of what other people thought about being awakened at five o’clock. The kitchen staffs at the various O’Donnell facilities were well acquainted with her, however, and welcomed her cheery morning intrusions into their workspace.
“Good morning,” she called as she drifted into the kitchen. “I don’t suppose there’s anything for a poor starving girl, is there?”
Laughing, Mrs. Cooley pointed to several trays of muffins cooling on a table.
“Bran muffins? Oh, Mrs. Cooley, you’re the best.” She hugged the elderly overseer of the DC kitchens. Pulling two of the large muffins out of their tray, she sat off to the side and slathered them with butter.
At six-thirty, she sent a spear thread to Kallen and then afterward to her grandfather. Kallen assured her he would be in DC by noon. Her grandfather cursed at length at the news of the shooter’s identity, and she was sorry Rebecca missed it. Her often filthy-mouthed friend was an aficionado of creative cursing and would have enjoyed it.
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