Corwin showed his age. He moved slowly and tired easily. His body might be giving out, but Brenna found his mind was strong and clear. He had built a solid empire, controlling a sizeable amount of the business in Northern Ireland, with interests in banking, hospitality, shipping, agriculture, and manufacturing. He wasn’t as rich as Seamus, but his fortune was counted in the billions.
While Brenna was unpacking, her cousins Darcy and Aine O'Neill arrived. They were the daughters of Hugh’s younger brother, and had come to Washington to help with the operation to capture the monster who tried to kill Cindy. She spent some time chatting with them and they spent some time comparing notes on their shared O’Neill Gift of Super Shielding.
As at the other Clan manors, O’Neill dressed for dinner. A maid was sent to help Brenna with her clothes, her bath, her hair and if Brenna hadn’t stopped her, her toilet. The air of nineteenth-century class distinction and noble entitlement was firmly in place. The Masterpiece Theatre theme kept running through Brenna’s mind. She had almost gone to Hugh when she discovered Rebecca had been given a small, cramped room connecting to hers, assuming she was Brenna’s servant. Rebecca was not expected to sit at the table for dinner.
Rebecca stopped her. “Let me play Protector here. There are undercurrents I’ve already picked up that are rather uncomfortable. Calm down and let me do my job, okay?”
Of course, thinking about it, when they had shown up at the estate, Brenna and the other succubi had all been wearing dresses while Rebecca was wearing jeans and giving orders to Protectors. Brenna wished she was wearing jeans, with wool long underwear. Without her Gifts, she knew she’d be as cold as Irina, who swore she would freeze to death before they escaped Ireland.
The maid looked at Brenna’s evening dresses and immediately pulled the teal, the most revealing dress she’d brought.
“Why that one?” Brenna asked uneasily.
“It’s a Donegal color, of course. Besides it best shows your figure. You’re a succubus aren’t you? You want to attract the men.”
Brenna had brought it for Paris, and just looking at it caused her to kick her body temperature up a little more. A sleeveless, strapless, almost backless corset top with a deep, wide V cut between her breasts and a slit to the point of her hip, it left little to the imagination and did little to cover flesh in a cold, damp climate. Only Alice’s wizardry and tight spaghetti straps attaching to the side of the bra, running under her arms to the small of her back, kept the top in place.
Almost a hundred people were seated in the main hall for dinner. She sat with Corwin at the head table across the front of the room. Three long tables ran away from them toward the rear. Brenna sat on Corwin’s right side, where his wife would be if she were still alive, with Hugh on his left. She could detect that there were many conversations about her, but couldn’t catch the gist of them.
Siobhan sent her a spear thread, Brenna, everyone is talking about where you’re sitting. Protocol says that Hugh, as the heir, should be on the right side.
Brenna relayed that to Rebecca, standing behind her wearing a mid-calf LBD with lace over the shoulders, paneled deep V-neck, long sleeves and deeply cut back. The skirt from mid-thigh down was also lace. It was the most conservative thing she had brought that wouldn’t be construed as dressing above her station. Conservative being relative. She had worn it to go clubbing in London. She played the lady’s attendant to perfection, but still projected an air of danger.
Brenna knew there was a small Beretta strapped to the inside of her thigh and at least two knives concealed somewhere on her person. God and Alice alone knew where in that dress, but Alice was a wizard and accustomed to clothing dangerous women. After the New Year’s Eve fiasco, Rebecca had hauled her entire wardrobe to New York for modification and went nowhere without being armed.
Throughout the meal, Brenna was aware of Finnian O’Neill, Hugh’s son. He never took his eyes from her, as if staring at her might make her disappear. He made her uncomfortable enough that she constantly checked her shields.
If looks could kill, Rebecca sent on a thread, Finnian would have already sliced and diced you. Can I kill him for dessert?
Involuntarily, Brenna glanced back at her. Rebecca’s face was perfectly placid, staring straight ahead. She stood at attention but her body appeared relaxed.
When the meal was over, Finnian threw one last murderous look toward Brenna before leaving the room. Several men fell in beside him.
Hugh gave them a tour of the estate and the surrounding countryside the next day. It was very beautiful and a major contrast from the wild and unruly lands of Donegal. He offered to give them the tour on horseback and Brenna had enthusiastically accepted, but Rebecca vetoed the idea. There weren’t enough horses for her Protector force and she wouldn’t bend.
When they got back, Antonia came to Brenna’s room for ‘tea’, a deep red vintage they drank out of long-stemmed crystal glasses.
“Brenna, I have never spent more than two days in a row in Ireland before, and now I remember why,” Antonia said. “I spent a warmer winter in St. Petersburg.”
Rebecca shrugged, “It feels like a soggy San Francisco to me. I’m not cold so much as I’m afraid I’m going to rust.”
“Rebecca, what are you hearing?” Concern was obvious on Antonia’s face. “I’ve heard some disturbing things here, although no one talks freely in my presence. Things don’t feel right.”
Rebecca let her own concern show. “There are deep divisions in this Clan. I screwed a guy yesterday who let his shields get a bit sloppy during a moment of passion. What I picked up there confirmed the picture we’d started to put together.”
She looked at Brenna, “Make no mistake, my Lady,” Rebecca’s lips twitched and her eyes sparkled when she addressed Brenna with the honorific, “Jeremy and I have all of our people on high alert. There’s murder in people’s thoughts around here, both the committing of it and the fear of it. Finnian is evidently a right bastard, in the figurative sense, and plans to take control of the Clan when Corwin dies. A large number of people wouldn’t be happy about that.”
Rebecca paced, shoving her hair back from her face.
“Then there’s Hugh’s faction, which basically espouses the philosophy of ‘why can’t we all get along?’ Eat, drink and be merry is evidently his motto. Now you showed up, fresh off being named O’Donnell heir, right after being named O’Byrne heir, right after Seamus and Callie’s visit. You’re a wild card, and it’s stirred up the hornets’ nest. The seating arrangements last night have everyone talking.”
“You don’t seriously think someone would be stupid enough to attack me here and risk Seamus’ wrath, do you?” Brenna asked.
Rebecca shrugged. “Evidently, a list of Finnian’s virtues puts intelligence near the bottom, along with kindness, charity and humility. He’s attracted a bunch of followers almost as smart and virtuous as he is, and who knows what people with a bully mentality will do?”
When her maid came to dress her for dinner, Brenna tried to subtly check some information. A mention of Lord Finnian’s name brought an involuntary shudder, but she steadfastly refused to talk about her ‘betters’. On a question about late night activities, she was more forthcoming, suggesting that a woman, even one of high station, might find refreshment and entertainment at a pub on the edge of the village.
“Do you ever go to the pub, Aileen?”
“Oh, my Lady, I’ve been known to step out an evening. I’m not much older than you are and haven’t found a lad that suits me as yet. But a girl does have needs you know.”
“And you think there might be lads at this pub willing to help with the needs of a wee lassie from America?”
“Oh, Lady Brenna,” she answered with a gay smile, “I’m sure such a lassie could easily find one or two who might be somewhat friendly.”
After another deadly boring dinner, Brenna solicited her friends who didn’t have dates to check out the pub. Rebecca and Siobhan joined her with the Pro
tectors on duty. It was larger than she expected, with a rock band playing and a mix of people she recognized, from kitchen and household staff to Protectors to members of the O’Neill family. Rebecca said her intelligence indicated the clientele might include almost anyone who lived on the estate.
There were three rooms and the two smaller ones had patrons wanting a quieter experience. One had games, people playing billiards, darts and dominoes when she looked in, and the other held booths with either serious drinkers, serious lovers, or serious discussions. Looking around at the place as a whole, she pulled on Rebecca’s arm, “Wouldn’t this place go great in the valley?”
Rebecca surveyed the pub, then said, “Just as long as I’m one of the patrons. You aren’t getting me to wait tables just to prove one of your bright ideas.”
They danced and flirted and Brenna did find a friendly lad who asked if she’d like to ‘walk out’ with him. Signaling Rebecca, she allowed him to lead her out of the pub to a soft, grassy place nearby, past other couples in various stages of getting to know each other better. He laid her down and treated her as gently and sweetly as she could ever want. She drained him halfway and sent a spear asking her Protectors to take care of him and take him someplace safe out of the morning dew.
On the way back to the manor house, they were passing a copse of trees when one of her Protectors lurched and fell. Attack! Jeremy broadcast, and Brenna extended her O’Neill shield to the others in her party. Jeremy threw up an air shield around them.
Casting her mind out, Brenna found over a hundred people in the close vicinity, and the mixture of emotions made it difficult to separate someone attacking them from a woman angry at her boyfriend.
I can’t isolate them, she sent.
Rebecca sprinted away from them, Jeremy, let me out of your shield. He shrunk the shield so that it covered them from the front.
Seeing movement in the trees, Rebecca sent a bright stream of fire into the air. It lit the area and they could see several men in the light. A fireball shot toward her and she put up an air shield to block it. The scene dissolved into chaos with flames and fireballs lighting the area.
Brenna pinpointed one of their attackers, shattered his shields, seized his mind, and read who they were and why they were there. I have one captured, she sent to her party. She made her captive drop to the ground behind a tree.
Rebecca, Jeremy and Siobhan unleashed their Rivera Gifts, sending streams of disruptive neural energy toward their foes. Two men fell and the others paused. But this was O’Neill, and someone on the other side had that rare Gift, shielding their attackers as Brenna shielded her own party.
Siobhan, Brenna sent, can we drain them?
Yes, the response came. They both reached out and started draining everyone they could feel in front of them. It would take too long to disable a large force that way, but it would weaken them. They fed the energy they pulled into their comrades.
Rebecca scuttled farther away, intermittently dropping her air shield to light the area with flame, then forming the shield again and sending Neural Disruption energy through it.
Don’t go too far, Brenna sent, frantic that Rebecca might go too far, past the range of her mental shields.
One more attacker fell, victim to a Protector’s mind fist, and the rest ran. Let them go, Rebecca sent. Brenna sank to her knees, shaking. The others heaved sighs of relief as it became apparent they weren’t under attack anymore. Jeremy and one of his men ventured into the trees to find the fallen enemies.
Brenna’s captive slowly climbed to his feet and stumbled toward them. Jeremy cuffed his hands and Brenna knelt to attend to the Protector who had fallen. Donny was conscious, victim of a mind fist but not seriously injured. He had a major headache, but that would pass in a couple of days.
Brenna sent a spear to Hugh O’Neill, and a force of Protectors came out from the manor to meet them. Taking the captured men to Hugh, she presented his mind to Thomas O’Neill, the Clan’s security chief, and went to pack. Rebecca wanted them out of there, and Brenna agreed.
Hugh promised to take care of the problem, but his demeanor wasn’t promising. Brenna got the feeling he was incapable of dealing with his son. She had no desire to get mixed up in O’Neill Clan politics, especially when her attackers were sent by Finnian O’Neill. She made a mental note that the Finnian issue would probably need to be dealt with in the future.
At six o’clock in the morning, Rebecca herded everyone onto the bus and their vans. But before they could leave, Brenna received a spear thought from Corwin, asking her to see him. Surrounded by armed Protectors, she made her way to Corwin’s suite.
Hugh greeted her courteously upon her arrival and conducted her to his father. She spent almost three hours with the old man. Much of their conversation was carried on mentally. Corwin obviously wanted to prevent eavesdropping.
Corwin told her that while Hugh was a good man, he was uncreative, of but average intelligence, and uninterested in business. He preferred to hunt, fish and ride, leaving responsibility and decisions to others.
Corwin frankly told her, Finnian is a cruel, ambitious, ruthless man. I wouldn’t give a tin shilling for Hugh’s chances of surviving a week after my death. Of course, Finnian wouldn’t last a fortnight himself. The Clan would never tolerate him and he’s not strong enough to stand against them. But a civil war would be damaging, and with both Hugh and Finnian gone, there would be a vacuum in leadership. I prefer not to do that.
Brenna, it’s not easy being chief of a Clan. It’s like having thousands of children. You love them, but occasionally you have to spank one. Unfortunately, when dealing with grown men holding telepathic powers, sometimes that spanking must be rather forceful.
She considered what he was asking, studying his aged face.
Uncle, I haven’t asked to be named heir of either O’Donnell or O’Byrne. To be honest, I gain no pleasure from telling people what to do. I don’t feel qualified to run anyone’s life. I’m still trying to figure out my own. But if you’re asking me if I would rather take on a responsibility I don’t want, or see good people come to harm from a poor leader, I guess you’ve got me.
She took a deep breath, pacing the room and considering the situation.
Come in, Uncle, see what’s in my mind, my soul. Make sure I’m what you want. To be honest, I hope you change your mind.
She dropped her shields and welcomed him in. He spent longer in her mind than anyone ever had, save Collin or Rebecca. When he finally withdrew, the door opened and Hugh entered the room.
I’m going to give you some peace, boy. I’m naming Brenna my heir.
The look on Hugh’s face might have been the look of a condemned man given a reprieve.
What do we do about Finnian? Hugh asked.
I believe she will deal with him appropriately. But when I die, if she isn’t here, you must find a safe place, and call her immediately.
Yes, Father. Brenna, I pledge you my full support.
Uncle, you need to exile Finnian. I won’t accept your offer otherwise.
Corwin called Thomas, who must have been waiting outside the room. Rebecca entered with him.
“Finnian’s gone, my Lord,” Thomas reported. “We can’t find him or any of the men who participated in the attack last night. Several of his close friends are also missing. I’ve alerted our people across Ulster.”
“He’s exiled, Thomas. Post an announcement immediately. Include those you’ve identified from the attack. Anyone harboring him or giving him aid is also exiled,” Corwin said.
“What do I do with the men Lady Brenna captured?”
Corwin looked at Brenna.
She took a deep breath, then looked at Rebecca, who nodded.
“O’Donnell doesn’t execute people, especially our own,” Brenna said. “We burn out their Gifts and strip them of their memories. In extreme cases, we implant a construct that creates a new identity, with compulsions in case their souls manage to overcome the constructs. Then we ex
ile them. It’s not a matter of mercy, but of preserving our own souls.”
Corwin nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face. Thomas looked relieved.
“Lord Thomas,” Brenna said, “Do you have someone who can take care of the matter?”
“Yes, I do, my Lady,” he answered. “I’ve never been fond of murder, and I’m glad you feel the same.”
As they were leaving, Corwin stopped her.
Brenna, I hope you forgive me for this someday. I don’t have long, and I know you’ll curse me to every god and goddess in heaven when I die. I will try to send for you. I want to pass my Death Gift to you. Perhaps that will ease the transition.
Everyone in Brenna’s party returned to their rooms as Brenna agreed to stay two more days. Brenna called Seamus and Rebecca called Collin.
Seamus told her to hang up the phone and then contacted her through a spear thread.
Grandfather, I’m not ready for this. Corwin is on his last legs, and Fergus isn’t far behind.
Seamus projected calm strength through their link. I assume you plan to merge both of those Clans into O’Donnell?
Yes. That’s what you and Fergus want, right? I see no reason to leave O’Neill separate.
Then here’s what we need to do …
Their mental conversation lasted thirty minutes, an extremely long discussion when conducted mentally. At the end, they had an interim plan in place. Seamus dispatched fifty Protectors to O’Neill under the command of one of Collin’s senior team leaders, James Coughlin. Siobhan would be left at O’Neill to oversee the formation of a liaison team that would be sent to West Virginia to begin preparing for the transition. Twenty Protectors would be sent to O’Byrne with her cousin Jared Wilkins, Callie’s son, to work with Fergus to prepare for the transition there.
When they finished, Seamus told her he would contact Corwin and Fergus to inform them of the plan.
Grandfather, what is a Death Gift? You mentioned it in your letter, and Corwin said he wanted to give his to me.
The Telepathic Clans Omnibus Page 47
