The Telepathic Clans Omnibus

by B R Kingsolver

  “You have a rather inflated opinion of your power,” a third man said. Brenna turned her eyes toward him. He clutched his chest, face turning red, and fell to the floor.

  “Your friend needs a doctor,” Brenna said calmly. “He just had a heart attack. Too many sausages, perhaps.”

  Stiegler and his companions stared at the man on the floor. Several of them moved back and a couple knelt by the stricken man, checking on him. Brenna and Rebecca started edging out of the alcove.

  What did you do to him? Rebecca asked.

  When Elsie teaches you to use your Healing Gift, she teaches you everything. Some healers don’t have another weapon. I interfered with the neural nexus that regulates heartbeat. It’s mild, he’ll recover.

  Stiegler staggered, stumbling backward, hit by a projected air shield. His nose started bleeding.

  “I said move,” Rebecca speared him with her eyes. All of the men moved away from the two women, who slipped away from them toward the door. Managing to make it into the lobby, they were joined by Antonia and surrounded by the rest of their protection team. The group moved out of the hotel and loaded into their vans.

  “We have to wait for Jeremy,” Rebecca said.

  “Where is he?” Brenna looked around. “Did he make it out?”

  “He said he needed to tie up loose ends. Just wait.”

  Inside, Jeremy took advantage of having everyone’s eyes following the women out the door and made his way to the room off to the side of the ballroom where Brenna’s original antagonist had been carried. Shouldering his way past the men outside the room, he walked in and looked at the sleeping man lying on a couch. He walked over, saw that the short Frenchman was still breathing.

  “Is he one of yours?” he asked a Watcher of von Ebersberg that he recognized.

  “Ja.”

  Jeremy leaned down and put his finger to the man’s temple, then sent a tight stream of neural disruption energy into his brain. The man jerked, shuddered, then was still. Jeremy turned and walked out of the room.

  When they got back to the chateau, he and Carly followed Brenna and Rebecca to the room they shared.

  “Goddess, you scared the shit out of me,” he told Rebecca. “When I looked in your eyes and saw you riding the killing edge, I ordered everyone out. I thought we were going to have bodies everywhere.”

  Rebecca laughed. “I guess I put on a good bluff.”

  “Bluff?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean bluff? Goddamn it, you don’t bluff in a situation like that. Either you’re ready to blow everyone away, or you don’t threaten. What the hell would you have done if they’d called your damn bluff?”

  “Rebecca was a diversion, but she’s strong enough to take all of those guys,” Brenna said. “I wasn’t worried about us losing. Antonia was holding enough electrical energy to blow the roof off. But you can’t be selective with their Gifts. If they’d cut loose, it would have been an indiscriminate slaughter.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jeremy said.

  “Brenna was isolating the hostiles,” Rebecca explained, “and targeting them with her O’Donnell Gift. Why didn’t you leave when I told you to?”

  “I can’t leave you to fight your way out of that kind of situation,” Jeremy said. “I don’t give a damn how tough you think you are.”

  Brenna chuckled. “We really weren’t planning on fighting. Once all of you cleared out, we’d have gone to plan T.”

  “Plan T? What’s that?”

  “Brenna’s a teleport,” Rebecca said. “We could have left any time.”

  Jeremy stared at them, then put his hands over his face and turned away. Brenna and Rebecca weren’t sure if he was crying or laughing hysterically. Carly stared at them with her mouth hanging open.

  ~~~

  Chapter 2-20

  Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love. ― Andrew Davidson

  The weather had been beautiful through their entire stay, and after a month of rain and cool temperatures in Ireland, it was very welcome. In spite of the ugliness at the ball, the next two days had been uneventful and it receded in the minds of Brenna’s party.

  Their party was strolling beside the Seine on the Left Bank when Brenna sent a spear to Rebecca and Jeremy. We’re being followed … no not followed, there are some in front of us, too.

  Jeremy sent three scouts out to reconnoiter. Rebecca asked Brenna, who had the longest range, to alert the Protectors back at the chateau. They continued to walk, Brenna stopping at one point to purchase a painting from an artist showing his work on the sidewalk. While Irina bargained with him, Brenna concentrated on trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

  What are you seeing? Rebecca sent. Let me in, show me.

  Brenna brought her friend into her mind and showed her the minds she had isolated as being together and showing hostile intent toward their party. Rebecca’s reaction was immediate.

  Jeremy, they’re bracketing us. Protective formation and high alert. She showed him what she had seen in Brenna’s mind.

  Antonia, we have stalkers, Brenna sent.

  So I have noticed. Brenna, I have covered Irina with my shield. How far can you extend yours?

  I’m not sure. I can cover all of us if we’re close together, but I’m not sure how far out I can go. I know the farther out, the fewer I can protect.

  If we are attacked, I will cover those close, Antonia told her. You cover Rebecca and Jeremy no matter what, any more if you can.

  Brenna relayed that to Rebecca, who responded, Antonia, Brenna, link with me. I need you to coordinate with me. Brenna and I will provide air shields. Jeremy is taking a tactical force out and will shield them.

  Irina finished her haggling and the artist wrapped Brenna’s purchase. As Brenna paid him, she saw Irina was pale as a ghost. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but I’m scared. Antonia says I need to do exactly what she tells me and I’ll be okay, but I don’t like this.” Beneath the fear, Brenna could sense the youngest of them gathering her determination.

  “We’re all afraid, but it will probably just be for nothing. I doubt anyone will attack us out here in front of all these people,” Brenna said.

  Looking around at the hundreds of tourists and Parisians out on a bright sunny day, Irina nodded. She took Brenna’s painting and went to stand beside Antonia.

  They continued on and their mysterious companions moved with them. Jeremy reported his scouts had spotted several visually. Their party consisted of the three succubi, Rebecca and seven Protectors. Jeremy and three more Protectors were somewhere close. Brenna was pulling electricity from the lines under the street and filling her reserves. She could tell someone else was doing the same thing and looked at Antonia, the woman who had been called a Storm Queen.

  Is that count of thirty still good? Rebecca asked.

  Yes, Brenna replied.

  Rebecca scanned the surrounding streets and buildings, trying to see a route to safety. Any chance of going back the way we came? Brenna shook her head.

  Rebecca steered them to an intersection where things were most open. Antonia, you’ve been in more battles than the rest of us combined. Any advice?

  Rebecca, urban battles are something most telepaths avoid. There are so many people here, innocents who could be hurt. She took a deep breath. Form in a circle, me and Irina in the center, you and Brenna at opposite ends. Use the weapons you’re most comfortable with. Brenna will cover you and herself, I’ll cover everyone else and feed both of you energy. I’m your reserve, just pay attention to what’s in front of you and I’ll worry about everything else. Irina, if anyone not ours gets close enough, drain them hard and fast and completely. Be ready to feed anyone who needs energy, you have a good Glow from last night, right?

  Pale but looking determined, Irina nodded.

  Brenna heard a cry of pain in her mind, coming from one of the Protectors out with Jeremy. She felt Jeremy respond with neural disruption and the thirty is
lands of hostility she was tracking became twenty-nine. Calmness enveloped her as she set herself in a karate ready stance and cleared her mind as her sensei had taught her.

  It’s started.

  Brenna scanned their vicinity looking for threats. Without warning, she felt something hit her shields. It took her a moment to realize the assault had started with projections of raw mental force, what the Protectors called a mind fist. It was a weapon any telepath could use and was the only one most could employ. She reached out to try and find the source of the blows.

  A man dressed in black stepped from between two buildings and struck at her with neural disruption. She sent a bolt of electricity in return and he flew backward, hit a building and slid to the ground lifeless.

  Then all hell broke loose. Men emerged all around them, trading mind fists with the O’Donnell Protectors, sending neural disruption at them, and an electrokinetic sent a bolt that was deflected by the O’Donnell air shields.

  Brenna responded with electric bolts and three men fell. An air shield appeared in front of the men advancing toward her and she hurled the spear of her O’Donnell Gift toward the man who had formed it. For the first time using that weapon she didn’t pull back, and the bolt of mental energy shattered both his shields and his soul. His head jerked back and he fell. As the air shield dissolved, she sent lightnings at the men he had been protecting and five more men fell.

  Brenna sensed one of her Protectors get hit and fall, neural disruption finding its way through a weakness in Antonia’s shield. She extended her own shield to augment the older woman, but couldn’t give too much without uncovering Jeremy and the other Protectors out with him. They were at the extreme end of her range, and if they stretched her any further she would have to surrender one of them.

  On the other side of their circle, a Protector jerked and fell senseless to the ground. Rebecca stepped over the body of her fallen comrade and sent neural energy toward five attackers advancing on them, burning them out. Another turned to run, and the Protector next to her hurled a fireball to strike him down.

  Brenna noticed two of the enemy lurking around the corner of a nearby building, and sent a bolt of electricity into the alley. She felt one mind go out and the other, diminished, retreat. It met an O’Donnell mind in the alley and only the O’Donnell Protector survived.

  She had expended a lot of energy but still felt strong, appreciating Antonia feeding her.

  More men advanced behind an air shield, hurling fire and electricity before them. Brenna took out three with her O’Donnell Gift, the air shield dissolved, and a shower of electrical bolts arced past her from Irina and Antonia.

  Searching for targets, then checking on Jeremy and his men, Brenna realized she couldn’t locate any of the enemy. Jeremy emerged from a street a block in front of her, heading toward them at a dead run.

  Brenna turned and looked down at a female Protector lying twitching on the street. She knelt next to the injured woman. Using her healing gift, she entered Cherise’s body and began strengthening the myelin in her brain, attempting to sooth and anesthetize her wildly firing neurons. Antonia’s shield had prevented her from taking a direct hit and the man who had assaulted her wasn’t as strong as Rebecca, but the damage was bad enough. At the periphery of her consciousness, she heard Rebecca wail, “Oh my dear God,” and become violently sick.

  “Brenna, we need to get out of here. We’ve got a containment problem.” Jeremy’s usual calm was tattered.

  She looked up and surveyed the carnage. “Gee, ya think? What the hell do you want me to do, Jeremy? Heal her, or discuss containment with you? I’m only good for one miracle at a time, Goddammit!”

  He looked down at the very young woman with tears in her eyes hunched over his fallen friend. “I’m sorry. I’ll take care of things.”

  She stabilized Cherise and turned to look for others. Alan, their other healer, was working on another man. She went to the Protector that had fallen next to Rebecca and scanned him for damage. He had taken a blow from a mind fist. His soul was bruised, but he’d suffered no permanent damage and would recover.

  She went to Rebecca, who was on her hands and knees retching. It didn’t appear there was anything left in her stomach. Irina knelt next to her, projecting soothing feelings with her empathy. Brenna entered her mind attempting to find out what was wrong and jerked back, appalled. She lay a Comfort on her then helped Irina pull her to her feet.

  “Jeremy, are we ready to roll? We have our wounded ready to travel?” Brenna asked.

  They moved with all the speed they could toward where their vans were parked. Antonia directed everyone who was whole to project confusion to all they met. Hundreds of people had witnessed the battle, far too many for their small force to modify their memories. Brenna prayed that none of the tourists had taken pictures.

  She looked at Irina, “How long?”

  “About three minutes. It seemed like an eternity, but I looked at my watch just before it started.” Irina was still pale, but was holding up. “I can’t believe she did that,” indicating Rebecca with pity in her voice. “Even I know better than that.”

  Brenna agreed. Some strange impulse had prompted Rebecca to touch the mind of one of the men she’d burned out. His last thought, before the disruption of his neural circuits ended his thinking forever, was of his three-year-old daughter.

  Somehow, they got back to the vans and managed to make it back to the chateau without being stopped by the police or having news reporters follow them. Taking their wounded inside, Brenna put Rebecca to sleep and dulled the memory of the little girl almost to nonexistence.

  After making sure everyone was all right and the house was settled, she went to the bathroom and threw up. She felt someone come in behind her and pull her hair back and hold it. The look on the face of the man she had first killed with her O’Donnell Gift, no, her O’Donnell Weapon, at the moment she shattered his life crossed her mind and she threw up again.

  She rocked back on her knees and Antonia handed her a glass of water. She drank it down then threw it up. Refilling the glass, Antonia handed it back to her. She shook her head but Antonia was insistent. “It hurts more if you don’t have anything in you. Drink it.”

  She did, and only when the next glass stayed down did Antonia wipe her face with a damp washcloth, tender as a mother, and handed her another glass. Brenna looked at the amber liquid, took it and downed it. It was brandy. It burned all the way down and hit her empty stomach like a bomb. For a minute she thought it was going to come back up, but it didn’t.

  “Thank you,” she said weakly.

  “After my first pitched battle, looking at all the death, I was sure I’d never be able to eat again,” Antonia told her. “Such a waste,” she shook her head, “I wonder what they wanted, who they were.”

  ~~~

  “Lord Gordon’s men,” Jeremy told them later. “I’ve talked to Nigel and Collin. We are to sit tight and wait for reinforcements. Nigel will have men here tonight.”

  A dozen people sat in the living room. Rebecca had joined them and sat next to Brenna, both holding snifters of brandy cradled in their hands.

  “What happened out there?” Brenna asked in a quiet voice. Several TVs had been set up, gathered from throughout the house. The French stations were filled with the disaster on the Left Bank and it ran in the main news loop on English-language CNN Europe.

  Brenna’s prayers had been answered and no pictures of the battle had been discovered, but there was plenty of news footage of the aftermath. Pictures of bodies, many with scorch marks on their bodies, lay on the pavement. A cameraman had captured video of men on stretchers drooling and twitching, their minds gone.

  Eyewitness accounts were confused and contradictory, but several agreed they had seen a black haired woman with lightning shooting out of her head. Others said that a coven of black haired witches with their followers had struck down the victims. Still another said the battle was over possession of a blonde haired child. />
  “Out of your head?” Rebecca asked, snickering. “God, how inelegant. You need to direct it through your hands. Haven’t you seen any science fiction movies?”

  “I don’t know what happened, Brenna,” Jeremy said. “Gordon has violated every stricture the Clans have lived by the past fifty years.”

  “So what happens next?” Irina asked, huddled next to Antonia, the older woman’s arm around her shoulders.

  “War. Seamus has ordered three thousand Protectors into England and put a bounty on Gordon. Collin said he’s never seen him so angry, not even when Cindy was hurt.”

  “How many men did I kill today?” Brenna asked in a voice so quiet that only those closest could hear.

  Jeremy stood and closed the short distance between them. Taking her arms in his hands, he said sharply, “Brenna, look at me. John Gordon killed those men. We were attacked by a force that outnumbered us two to one and we survived. That’s the important thing. O’Donnell doesn’t count kills, and I won’t stand for you doing it. We protected ourselves. Those men attacked us without warning. They didn’t come to talk. Their first move was to strike.”

  He straightened and went to refresh his drink, then sat back on a couch. “Everyone conducted themselves with honor today. You showed strength and dignity.” He looked at Irina, “Everyone. I’m told the men who attacked Rebecca’s position were staggering a bit, almost as though someone had drained them, and my people said someone kept feeding them energy. What’s your range, Irina?”

  Irina shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention. “Antonia said to drain anyone who got close enough. Not too many got close.”

  “About thirty meters, I think,” Antonia answered for her, “quite remarkable for one so young.”

  All of the protectors were astonished. “That’s remarkable for anyone,” someone said.

  A quiet smile crossed Antonia’s face as she looked down on the blonde girl. “Succubi are more than a pretty package. When we’re described as predators, most people only think of sexual predators. Our Talents are far beyond that. When attacked, a succubus will react like a bear with cubs.