Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4)

by BR Kingsolver

  Succubus Ascendant

  An Urban Fantasy

  Book 4 - The Telepathic Clans Saga

  BR Kingsolver

  Published by B.R. Kingsolver

  Copyright 2014 B.R. Kingsolver

  http://brkingsolver.com/

  Cover art by Mia Darien

  http://www.miadarien.com/

  Previous books in this series

  The Succubus Gift

  Succubus Unleashed

  Succubus Rising

  Also look for Broken Dolls, a paranormal mystery with RB Kendrick, private investigator, set in the world of the Telepathic Clans

  ~~~

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ~~~

  Praise for The Succubus Gift, Book 1 of the Telepathic Clans:

  The novel itself is expertly written and an utter joy to read. The characters are all delightful. There were times while I was reading this that I laughed out loud, and other times when I held my breath in anticipation of what might occur. 4.5/5 stars – Night Owl Reviews

  Let me just start by saying WOW, because this book completely blew my expectations out of the water and then some. The initial synopsis plot struck me as interesting, but it didn’t prepare me for the utterly heart stopping onslaught of sex, violence and paranormal abilities … a great unique addition to the paranormal/urban fantasy genre and I’d definitely recommend this to fans of the genre! It had everything I could ask for, love, sex, violence, witty banter, supernatural abilities. I am so excited to see what Kingsolver does next! 5/5 HOT steaming cups - Tea and Text

  Praise for Succubus Unleashed, Book 2 of the Telepathic Clans:

  Succubus Unleashed is a wildly entertaining novel, full of the same dynamic and enchanting characters from The Succubus Gift. The story begins at a very rapid pace and never slows down. 4.5/5 stars – Night Owl Reviews

  Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous! BR Kingsolver's second book is everything I would have hoped from reading the first book in the series, The Succubus Gift. 5/5 stars – Wren Doloro

  Praise for Succubus Rising, Book 3 of the Telepathic Clans:

  Must Read - "Succubus Rising" is the third book in the 'Telepathic Clans Saga". The author pens the plot unique, original and picks up from where the first book left off. Filled with action, romance, suspense, emotions, and a touch of humor, this book will hook you in and not let you go. ... Highly recommended for all fantasy, romance fans. – 5/5 My Cozie Corner {Book Reviews}

  A story of the heart and the soul in many ways which I enjoyed immensely. Quite simply five out of five pitchforks. The characters make the story, not the story making the characters. The promise of the series continues and that’s so very satisfying. – Tera S. @ Succubus.net

  Praise for Broken Dolls:

  I think everyone who enjoys paranormal thrillers will love Broken Dolls. I can’t wait to read The Telepathic Clans Saga. It they are anything like this book then I will love them. 5 stars - Reading It All {Book Reviews}

  I loved being surprised, I loved this world, and the characters were fantastic even if some of them suck as people. Check this book out, it's a great paranormal read with mystery and humor! It's perfect. 5 Stars - Sunshine & Mountains Book Reviews

  ~~~

  Pronunciation Guide to Names

  Some of the names in this book have been Anglicized, for others:

  Aine: aw-nya – delight or pleasure

  Aislinn: awsh-leen – dream or vision

  Aoife: eef-ya – beautiful or radiant

  Beltane: bel-tane – May Day, the beginning of the summer season, a springtime festival of optimism

  Brenna: bran-na – raven, often referring to hair

  Caylin: kay-lin – slender, fair

  Irina: ee-ree-na – Russian form of Irene

  Mairead: mah-rayd – Gaelic form of Margaret

  Morrighan: mor-ri-gan – Celtic goddess

  Rhiannon: ree-an-on – Welsh for maiden

  Samhain: so-ween – The harvest festival, now called Halloween

  Seamus: shay-mus – the supplanter

  Sean: shawn – Gaelic form of John

  Shidhe: shee—An Irish word for the elves, another word for Clan

  Sinead: shi-nayd – Irish version of Jeanne

  Siobhan: shee-vawn – Variation of Jeanne

  Slainte: slayn-cheh – ‘Health’ in Gaelic, a toast

  Tuatha De Danann: - tu-a-tha de dan-an – The people of the Goddess Danu - The original pre-Celtic inhabitants of Ireland

  ~~~

  A full list and description of the Telepathic Gifts appears at the end of the book

  ~~~

  Forward

  This is the fourth book and end of the story about how Brenna O’Donnell and her friends joined the Telepathic Clans. The action begins about two years after the end of Succubus Rising. After some internal debate, I decided not to make this book stand alone. It is the culmination of the previous three books in the series (actually, four books if you include RB Kendrick’s story in Broken Dolls), and I’ve tried to tie all the plot lines and open questions into a final ending. There are so many of them that to provide back story on all the plot lines and characters would make the book boring for those who read the first books in the series.

  That is not to say that this is the end of Brenna or Rebecca, just the end of this part of their story.

  In the two years between books, Rebecca got married. Callie, Cindy and Morrighan had babies. Noel and Teresa married, had a baby, and moved to Washington. Siobhan underwent a life change, married, had a baby, and moved to London. Irina lives in New York, filling the role vacated by Siobhan.

  ~~~ B.R. Kingsolver

  ~~~

  Chapter 1

  A man can sleep around, no questions asked, but if a woman makes nineteen or twenty mistakes, she's a tramp. - Joan Rivers

  It was that time of year again, for the April O’Donnell Group annual meeting held in London. Brenna and her closest friends flew in a week early. Four years earlier, at her first annual meeting, Brenna hadn’t known what to expect. She arrived in London expecting a week of excruciating boredom, interminable presentations of reports, and having to act like an adult and a lady the entire time.

  Since then, Brenna always planned her stay in London to include some holiday time. She, Collin, Rebecca and Irina were looking forward to a week of sightseeing, dining and partying.

  After stowing their luggage in their suite at the O’Donnell-owned hotel next to their London regional headquarters, the group went back down to the lounge where Nigel Richardson was awaiting them.

  Savoring a good British porter poured from the tap, Brenna looked up and saw her Aunt Morrighan. Her aunt was often confused with being Brenna’s older sister. Morrighan walked over to their table, gave Nigel a quick kiss, and then hugged each of the Americans in turn.

  “I arrived last night,” she said, a slight grin quirking the corners of her mouth. Her eyes went to Collin and then to Nigel. “I was wondering if you have plans tonight,” she said hesitantly.

  Collin chuckled. “If you’re curious as to whether I’ll get upset if you take my lady out hunting, then you aren’t very familiar with the
kind of man who falls in love with a succubus. Do you know the term ‘pussy whipped’?”

  Morrighan and Nigel laughed. “Yes, we know the term,” Nigel said.

  Brenna and Irina, sitting on either side of Collin, both punched him in the shoulder.

  “See what I mean?” he laughed.

  “Normally, I might decline just to be nice, but after a remark like that? Sure. Where are we going?” Brenna said with a wink. She gave Collin a look out of the corner of her eye. “Of course, he’s being so magnanimous because he thinks he may have a shot at an old girlfriend. Her husband’s out of town.”

  To her surprise, Collin colored.

  “Oh, my God,” Irina exclaimed. “You dog. Does Pia’s husband know he’s going to get cuckolded?”

  “He knows we’re going to see each other, yes,” said Collin.

  “Wear your bulletproof vest, boyo,” Rebecca smirked.

  “Well, on that note, where and when?” Brenna asked Morrighan. “I’d like to take a quick shower, but it won’t take us long to change.”

  “Where’s the baby?” Irina asked.

  “Lady O’Byrne is taking care of her,” Morrighan answered. “And although I love her to death, I need some time away. She’s just starting to walk, and I’m going crazy trying to keep up with her.”

  The women excused themselves to go change.

  After donning a black bra and panties, Brenna wriggled into her black lace dress and pulled on the knee-high stiletto-heeled boots. To complete the outfit, she put on a black and white cameo that Collin had given her for Christmas one year.

  Rebecca wore a shining silver sleeveless micro dress with a V-neck down to her naval, an enameled collar necklace and strappy stilettos. Her legs looked about six feet long.

  Irina put on a white, low-cut halter sheath that hit her about mid-thigh. She added a choker of small freshwater pearls and six-inch platform heels. Brenna shook her head, not understanding how the tiny blonde could walk in those shoes.

  Collin and Nigel were still sitting in the bar when the women came downstairs. They sat down and ordered drinks, smiling and preening at the compliments they received. The bar was about half full, and although it wasn’t very noisy, Brenna noticed when the background conversations quieted and then died completely. She and everyone else at the table turned to see what was going on.

  Striding toward them was a tall woman with copper-colored hair that reflected the lights as she moved. She wore a skin-tight green one-shoulder minidress, and the only thing more spectacular than her beauty was her bust. Her only jewelry was a short strand of large red beads with matching earrings, almost the same shade as her lipstick.

  “Goddess,” Irina breathed. She shot a look at Brenna. “Is that the Goddess?”

  “Huh?” Brenna said. “Oh, no. Of course not. The Goddess’s hair is more of a strawberry blonde.”

  The men turned and gaped at her, as well as at Rebecca, who was nodding.

  “The Goddess also isn’t as well endowed,” Morrighan said, with a mischievous grin.

  “Rhiannon!” Rebecca squealed, jumping up and dashing toward the woman. Morrighan rose as well with a huge smile on her face.

  Rhiannon hugged both women, then walked to the bar and the barman pulled her a pint. She came to their table and scooted into the booth next to Nigel, giving him a hip bump to move him over.

  Rhiannon Bronwyn Kendrick, or RB as she preferred professionally, was a private investigator with fifteen Gifts, including the Rare Gift of Telekinesis and the Gift of Distance Communication, which enhanced and strengthened a telepath’s other Gifts. As a result, she was one of the most powerful telepaths in the world.

  Her family included her great-aunt, Lady O’Byrne, and she was the unacknowledged daughter of Hugh O’Neill and granddaughter of Lord Corwin of Clan O’Neill. On her mother’s side, she was descended from ancient Welsh Clan Chiefs. Growing up in Wales, outside of any Clan, she nonetheless had been trained at Clan O’Byrne as a teenager, and Lord O’Byrne had paid for her education at Oxford.

  Morrighan and Rebecca had first met Rhiannon three years before when she helped them break a human trafficking operation that was selling telepathic women. Brenna had met her briefly a few times, and found her to be impressive. Highly intelligent, Rhiannon had a facility with languages, and was totally down to earth. She acknowledged her beauty, but wasn’t impressed or obsessed with it. Normally, she tended toward wearing jeans and formless sweaters, not the devastatingly sexy outfit she wore that night.

  Nigel shook his head. “Collin, with this crew I could have stormed Normandy Beach and captured it without a shot fired.”

  Rhiannon leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re sweet. Are you staying in tonight?”

  “Oh, hell yes. I don’t even want to be out with your lot on the prowl. If I were a patriot, I’d call out the Home Guard to prepare for casualties.”

  “Do you want me to come back?” she asked, her voice dropping into a seductive purr.

  He handed her the key to his flat.

  She kissed his cheek again and then turned to the women. “What are you hungry for? Fish and chips like all the rest of the tourists?”

  “How about that Russian restaurant we went to one time?” Brenna asked Irina. “I liked it.”

  Irina perked up immediately. “That’s a great idea.”

  So off to the Russian restaurant they went.

  The patrons included a number of spectacular Russian beauties, most with older wealthy men. At least three were succubi. But the O’Donnell party attracted every eye in the place as they were led to their table, even though, with the exception of Brenna’s outfit, their dresses weren’t unusually revealing by the standards of the other women. In fact, Brenna was avidly observing some of their outfits, evaluating how they might look on her, and in some cases thinking how she might adapt them to her physique.

  “Down, girl,” Rebecca smirked. “If you stare at that blonde any harder, you’ll bore holes through her.”

  Looking sheepish, Brenna tried to explain, “I was just trying to imagine how that would look on me.”

  “I know what you were doing, but try being more discreet or she’ll think you’re hot for her.”

  Brenna felt her face flame.

  “Is anyone averse to a real Russian dinner?” Irina asked. Seeing no objections, she said, “You need to pay attention to the alcohol. I’m going to order a carafe of vodka. Speak now or forever hold yourselves. Does anyone have foods you find objectionable or have an allergy to? Okay, put your menus away.”

  The waiter came and Irina spent some time ordering in Russian. A couple of times, Rhiannon interjected a comment, also in Russian. The waiter returned with a large bottle of mineral water, a carafe of vodka with five tiny crystal glasses, and a platter of cold meats, salted fish, pickled vegetables, pickled mushrooms and black caviar. Another waiter poured wine and placed a second bottle on ice.

  Irina poured vodka into the small glasses, put a small amount of several appetizer items on her plate, then took a bite of salted fish, raised her glass, and toasted, “Good hunting.”

  Laughing at her toast, everyone followed her lead and tossed back the vodka.

  After they had done serious damage to the appetizer plate, they were served soup and five entrées that they shared. At various times, one or the other of the participants would propose a toast, usually after a particularly good story or a pithy comment. Dessert consisted of pastries with sweet farmer’s cheese and a hot apple tart served with strong hot tea.

  “Irina, there’s only one problem with this dinner,” Rebecca said, leaning back in her chair and surveying the wreckage. “All I want to do now is take a nap, not go out hunting.”

  The others greeted this assertion with jeering laughter.

  Although Rebecca and Morrighan had become fast friends with Rhiannon, this was the first time Brenna had spent any real social time with the Welsh private detective. Over the past three years, Rhiannon had helped the
O’Byrne and O’Donnell Clans break up several operations that were trafficking telepathic girls. Brenna had paid Rhiannon’s fees for many of those cases, but Rebecca was the liaison between the two women.

  Sitting next to Rhiannon at dinner, Brenna was taken by the pragmatic, down-to-earth quality of the woman, a complete contrast to the beautiful, glamorous exterior.

  “It was rather strange,” Brenna told her, “to discover that I have a large family. I grew up feeling completely alone. I mean, we’re cousins, and I don’t even know you.”

  Rhiannon chuckled. “Hell, I don’t know any of my relatives on my father’s side. Except for you, I guess, and Lady O’Byrne. I’ve never even been to the O’Neill estate.”

  “That must be hard,” Brenna said, “not knowing your father. My dad died when I was young, but at least I always carried the knowledge that he loved me.”

  Rhiannon’s mouth pursed as though she’d taken a bite of something sour. Raising her wine glass, she took a deep drink.

  “I know Hugh O’Neill,” she said. “I know that he thinks nothing of me, and I don’t give a damn about him. The whole bloody O’Neill Clan can burn in hell as far as I’m concerned.”

  The table became very quiet. Looking around, Rhiannon blushed and said, “Sorry. I guess I need to detoxify a little.” She excused herself and went to the washroom. When she came back a few minutes later, she wore a smile and steered the conversation toward the others at the table, asking questions about the Americans’ lives.

  Throughout dinner, Rebecca was conscious of the attention their table was receiving from the other patrons. While this was common for a party of succubi, there was an uncomfortable edge to the psychic atmosphere.