You have rediscovered some of that knowledge and relieved the curse. I believe there is more to be learned. I remember when your mother was the only priestess to dance on The Longest Night, the only one to bless our people with the Goddess’ smile. When you came back to us, I saw five, and believe the number will never be that low again. It is not an orgy, or a bacchanal, but a worship service in which we offer ourselves to Her, rejoice in the blessings of the earth and share each other the way She intended. The role of Her priestesses is to show us the way.
I know you’re young and still unsure of yourself and your role, but from the moment you walked into my study in Baltimore, I knew you were the one who would do this. In my mind, you became my heir that night.
I have been called a visionary for leading our people out of Ireland and through the changes of the twentieth century. The days of my vision have passed and I am now passing into the next, and last, phase of my life. The only task remaining to me is to train you to take my place. Other than that, I plan to enjoy my new love and bounce babies on my knee. I hope before I pass from this earth I have the chance to bounce yours, but I'm not in a hurry for that, so don't feel a need to rush.
Be true to yourself, take good advice and reject bad, and always do what you feel in your heart is the right thing to do. You have an unerring sense of right and wrong and a spotless soul. I have no doubt the Goddess will someday welcome you back into Her arms and you will be remembered as the greatest Chieftain the Clans have ever known.
I love you, and feel blessed that you love me,
Your Grandfather, Seamus Hugh O'Donnell
P.S. Rebecca, I love you, too.
She read it over twice, then stared out the window at the green land passing below. When they crossed the coast and only the Irish Sea lay below them, she read it again. This time she smiled at the postscript. It was a blessing on showing it to her friend, but also an acknowledgement that Brenna would do so.
In some ways, it read like hokey religious mythology, but with what she had seen and learned since coming to the Clan, she had to wonder if myths still walked the earth. She had heard her Grandfather and others reference the Goddess and been curious, but right now she wished she had the O'Donnell library at hand. She remembered lists of Celtic goddesses, and how they seemed to overlap, and tried to figure out to which one her Grandfather referred.
~~~
Chapter 2-14
A man is as good as he has to be, and a woman is as bad as she dares. - Elbert Hubbard
When the plane landed, she sent out a spear thought. Rebecca?
That's me!
Her grandparents met her and walked her through passport control, the officer there staring off into space and stamping her party's passports like a robot.
Their motorcade drove the seventy kilometers south from the airport to Wicklow and from there to her grandparents’ estate. Brenna and Rebecca rode with her grandparents and were entranced looking out the windows at the green countryside and the skyline of Dublin. After they left the freeway around Dublin, Caylin spoke to Rebecca, “I understand you’re a half.”
Rebecca colored, “If you mean that I carry the gene for the Kashani Gift, yes.”
Caylin extended a piece of paper, “Here’s a list, my dear. Nice men that are discreet and would be happy to accommodate you should you need it.”
Rebecca’s face flamed bright red. Brenna put her hand on Rebecca’s arm, “My grandparents are both carriers, Rebecca.”
Understanding flashed across Rebecca’s face and she met Caylin’s gaze. The older woman was still good looking at one hundred seventy. “My dear, I’ve lived with it all my life. We’re not as stuffy as you Americans are, and my mother carried the curse also. Fergus has two daughters who have it, and the gene is fairly common, so you’re not unique here.”
“Are there any succubi at the estate?” Brenna asked.
“Oh, yes,” Fergus answered her, “there are two girls living with us and three more Clan members in Dublin.”
Amazed, Brenna told them she hoped she would have the chance to meet them. Caylin chuckled, “You won’t have to go looking for them, they’ll all be here for May Day and they’re all interested, very interested, in that trick you discovered. Morrighan was ready to fly to America when she heard about what happened at the Solstice Ball, but I told her you were coming here. She’s barely managed to rein in her impatience. It created quite a sensation.”
When they reached the estate, Rebecca sent her a thread, Masterpiece Theatre, anyone?
It did look like a set from a British period movie. The stone mansion, not quite a palace, not quite a castle, was set amidst expansive lawns and lush gardens. The limo pulled up by the circular drive in front of the house and liveried staff poured out to assist them with their luggage and show them to their rooms.
As she was unpacking in the room she was to share with Rebecca, there was a knock at the door. Brenna admitted her grandfather.
“Do you mind if we talk while you unpack? I’d like a chance to brief you before you face the rest of the family and the staff,” Fergus said.
“Brenna, this place is a cesspool of intrafamily politics. I don’t know how much Seamus has told you about us, but Caylin and I had three other children besides your mother. All were killed in tragic accidents before Maureen’s birth. But I have six children by other women, three men and three women, all of whom are still alive. Morrighan, the succubus that Caylin mentioned, is my youngest. She lives in Dublin and looks forward to squiring you about the city. Bridget and Aine live here and they are halfs, both married, and then there’s Michael, Andrew and Brian, my sons. Brian lives in Paris, Michael lives in Dublin and Andrew lives here.”
Fergus lowered himself into a chair near the window. Although he looked healthy, he always moved slowly, as though his joints hurt.
“Andrew is the oldest, and has always resented not being named my heir, but in the period before your mother was born and again after she died I named Michael. I don’t think he will resent you, but expect some nastiness from Andrew, and he has his adherents.”
He turned toward Rebecca. “I don’t expect any overt action against you, but Rebecca, please don’t relax your guard here. One never can guess exactly who is prepared to play the fool.”
Dismayed, Brenna sat down on her bed. “Are you sure you want to designate me? I mean, wouldn’t it be easier to name one of your other children?”
Fergus shook his head, “Michael will support you, as will Brian and the girls. Morrighan worshiped Maureen. The boys have always been at each other’s throats and Andrew has just never been an option. You’ll see why. The Clan would rebel if he were named.”
Uneasy, Brenna squirmed, twisting her hands in her lap. “Grandfather, you talk as though my ascension is imminent.”
“Brenna, I’m nearing the end of my run. I’m one hundred eighty-five, and we are a small Clan, wealthy in our way, but weak compared to O’Donnell. My alliance with Seamus and our location here in Ireland have allowed us to survive, but we made a pact when your parents married that we would choose one of their children to unite our Clans. Jack was Seamus’ heir and Maureen mine. Normally you wouldn’t have to worry about all this for another hundred years.”
Her heart was pounding in her chest so hard she was sure the others could hear it. “I’m not ready to take over a Clan.”
“My dear, I know you’re young, and this past year has probably been overwhelming for you, but your modesty is only one of the qualities that make you most suitable. I don’t think you realize just how impressive you are. I believe the Goddess has sent you to unite the Clans.”
He told them what time to appear for dinner, then left.
Brenna showed Seamus’ letter to Rebecca. “I’m sure hearing a lot about the Goddess today,” she remarked.
Reading the letter, Rebecca exclaimed, “Oh, wow, now it makes sense!”
“That’s nice,” Brenna’s voice was dry, “and exactly what the h
ell makes sense?”
“The Drain! Shit, Brenna, can I show this to Siobhan? She’s been translating that book, The Succubus Gift, and there are some oblique references to this, but she’s more convinced than ever it was written by someone in the Church. When the author refers to the Drain, it’s always referred to as a perversion or heresy. The perversion we could understand but the heresy had us stumped. But if succubi are the priestesses for an older religion, it makes sense.”
“I’m not sure about showing her the letter,” Brenna said, the idea somehow feeling wrong, “but I can tell her what he said. And the rest of it? I mean, Seamus really believes this. It’s not like he’s telling me about a legend, he’s letting me in on the mystery.”
Brenna was frozen by the look on Rebecca’s face. “Brenna, the things you and I can do with our minds are straight out of science fiction. I can’t tell you how I know, but the Goddess and Her influence are real. Seamus is letting you in on the mystery, and if you haven’t figured out by now that something other than pure random chance is directing your life, you’re in denial.”
Rebecca shook her head, “Seamus told us once you’re not a goddess, but he says right here you’re Her incarnation on earth. Get used to it, girl, you’re nowhere close to normal. It may be hard to accept, but at least stop trying to tell people you’re not what they can plainly see you are. You confuse them when you do that.”
“I’m so glad I showed you the letter, I feel soooo much better now.” Brenna jumped up and walked to the window. “You think I confuse people? I must be projecting, because right now I’m the most confused person in the world.”
She turned, and with a pleading tone in her voice said, “Rebecca, there are lots of succubi. Why do people seem to think I’m so special?”
Giving her an exasperated look, Rebecca said, “I guess we all consider obliviousness attractive.”
~~~
After a discussion with Siobhan and some of her team who were familiar with Irish Clan culture, Rebecca informed Brenna in no uncertain terms that activities such as midnight visits to the kitchen or fraternizing with stable boys were strictly forbidden. She was only to socialize with her own class, and for God’s sake, only screw her own class, except very, very discreetly. Brenna pouted but agreed to do as she said.
At O’Donnell, terms of address were very informal, but Siobhan and Antonia cautioned the three younger women that breaches of protocol were taken very seriously in most of the Clans in Europe. While Brenna could get away with addressing Fergus and Caylin as Grandfather and Grandmother, everyone else addressed them as Lord and Lady O’Byrne, and Brenna was Lady Brenna. Even her friends were required to address her that way.
Others she met had titles, but none of Fergus’ children did. “They’re bastards, acknowledged or not, and therefore not due a title of respect,” Siobhan told them. “I’m sure that’s part of Andrew’s resentment of Michael, having to address him as ‘Lord’ all these years.”
They dressed for dinner, Brenna wearing her mother’s blue dress, as it was the most conservative evening attire she owned. For some reason, she was always slightly embarrassed of her succubus status around her grandparents. She guessed it was an unconscious assumption that due to their age they ascribed to Victorian morality. That feeling suffered a quick death at dinner.
As in the O’Donnell manor house, dinner was a formal affair at O’Byrne. What was different was the bawdy conversation and attitudes. Brenna and her friends might have dressed conservatively, but Morrighan’s dress was more blatantly sexual than if the woman had showed up nude, and several of the others, especially the ‘halfs’, weren’t far behind. Bridget was about eighty and Aine seventy in Brenna’s estimation, brown haired with blue eyes, very pretty, and neither made any pretense of hiding their sexual activities. Their husbands didn’t seem to mind, in fact, both acted completely besotted.
Morrighan could have been Brenna’s older sister. Forty years old, raven haired with deep blue eyes and pale complexion, she was about the same height as Brenna. Placed side by side, a complete stranger would have labeled them kin. She laughed easily and had a constant spark of good-natured mischief in her eyes.
Brenna liked her immediately and Rebecca succumbed to her charms with hardly a whimper. Irina flirted with her shamelessly, and after a first appraising look, Morrighan returned the favor. Brenna dared hope the young succubus might have found a substitute for her infatuation.
Morrighan turned serious when she asked about Cindy. “She and I are very nearly the same age and I spent three summers with Lady Maureen and Lord Jack when Cindy lived with them. Dunany is not a large place, and we decimated the local men. There were times when the hunting became pretty sparse. Give her my best, will you please?”
“I will,” Brenna said. “She’s up and about now, recovering her strength. She’s talking about going back to work this summer.”
“Lady Brenna, Lady O’Byrne has told me you’ve discovered a way to prevent draining a man. I would be very interested in learning how you do that.” The hunger in Morrighan’s eyes belied the calmness in her voice.
Irina chimed in, “You can’t really explain it to anyone. I think all of us have tried. You actually have to see someone do it. I could show you if you like.”
“I would greatly appreciate it, if you don’t mind,” Morrighan said with a smile. “Do we need to find a willing lad for the demonstration?”
“Oh, yes,” Irina responded, laughing. “It would probably work with an unwilling one, but I’ve never tried that.”
“I’m sure an unwilling lad is rather difficult to find, looking the way you do,” Bridget teased.
With Brenna being named heir, Michael was a Lord no longer. He was friendly toward her, though, and addressed her with respect. Brenna focused her Empathy on him, but couldn’t detect a false note. Andrew, on the other hand, was almost openly hostile. After dinner, he approached her.
“So, my Lady,” Andrew said with heavy sarcasm, “what plans do you have for O’Byrne? I assume we’ll have to change all the curtains to match O’Donnell colors.”
“I would have to study the business and other operations in some depth before I offered an opinion,” Brenna said. “But I think the curtains are lovely. I don’t think we’d have to change those.”
She tried to turn away and speak to someone else, but Andrew was insistent on baiting her.
“What a novel idea. And would you conduct your studies by taking all the men to bed, and assigning duties based on their performance?” Andrew asked.
“Andrew, don’t be so obviously stupid,” Michael said. “It’s embarrassing.”
“I don’t have to put up with you anymore, Michael,” Andrew said.
Brenna appraised the two men. Michael was physically larger, more handsome and self-assured, and Rebecca reported he was the more powerful telepath. Though no longer the heir, he was President of O’Byrne’s business enterprises.
“Don’t you have something you need to do?” Morrighan asked Andrew with a sneer. “I’m sure you haven’t pulled the legs off all the bugs in the garden as yet.”
“Cow,” Andrew spat at her.
With a dangerous smile, Brenna fixed Andrew with her eyes. “I’ll evaluate everyone’s role based on their value to the Clan and their loyalty,” she said. “I’m sure some people will be more comfortable finding their own way in the world.”
He sneered at her, then spun and walked away. Brenna was highly irritated with him and knew Rebecca was lovingly entertaining fantasies of castration. She vowed to avoid him whenever possible.
“I’m sorry about that,” Michael said. “Please don’t take Andrew’s attitude to heart. The rest of us are quite happy to meet you.”
“Thank you,” Brenna smiled at him. “I would rather just ignore Andrew if I can.”
“That would probably be the best idea,” Michael said with a slight bow. “Father keeps him close so he can keep an eye on him. But someday we’ll have to decide what t
o do with him.”
“A grave would be the perfect place, don’t you think?” Morrighan said, staring at Andrew’s retreating back. Then turning to Irina, her face brightened. “Are you still up for a demonstration?”
Irina nodded and followed Morrighan from the room, trailing Darina and Fiona, the other two succubi attending the dinner. “Perhaps we should find several lads,” Brenna heard Darina say, “so we can practice and make sure we get it right.”
Brenna wished she could join them. A willing lad might help settle her nerves. The men of her own class were all over a hundred and not too appealing.
~~~
They arrived on April 29, just in time to observe preparations for May Day, the traditional Irish holiday of Beltane. It was the beginning of summer for the Tuatha De Danann, a springtime festival of optimism. It’s considered a fertility ritual, connecting with the waxing power of the sun. At the Beltane celebration, this is symbolized by lighting bonfires and dancing around them in a sun-wise direction.
“What do you mean, fertility?” Brenna asked suspiciously. “Is this another dance of the succubi?”
“It could be,” Morrighan told her with a soft smile, “but nothing so formal. I do guarantee the party will be quite wild.”
On May Eve, the house was garlanded with flowers and two bonfires were lit that night using the powers of the mind. Cattle were driven between them in an ancient ritual to protect against disease. To the music of Irish pipes, fiddles and guitars, the revelers danced, leaping over the fires. Irish ale and whiskey were consumed in copious quantities, and as the night wore on, the scene began to resemble an even more ancient rite.
As Brenna suspected, the succubi were central to the celebration. When midnight approached, she and Irina were approached by Siobhan and Morrighan and told their presence was needed. Led away, they were brought inside a small barn where the other four succubi were already exchanging their clothes for filmy white robes. As they were changing, Antonia came in and began to undress.
The Telepathic Clans Omnibus Page 44
