“She’s an impressive woman,” Rebecca said.
“How many ...?” Emily asked, her eyes flicking to Rebecca.
“Fifteen Gifts,” Rebecca answered.
“Goddess,” the other Druid breathed.
Rhiannon struggled to a sitting position. “Hell, what are we sitting here for? Let’s go see what a mass murder looks like.”
“There might still be ...” Rebecca started, but the look on Rhiannon’s face stopped her.
“No, I can’t feel anyone,” Rhiannon said. The Druids helped her to her feet.
Protectors swarmed around them, weapons at the ready and air shields deployed. They walked toward the manor house, passing the machine gun emplacements and dozens of bodies on the way. When they reached the house, Rebecca motioned to the shattered double doors.
“I shaped an air shield as a battering ram,” Rhiannon said. “I was going to tear the house down with air and Telekinesis, but then I realized I didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”
“How strong is Brenna going to be?” Rebecca murmured.
“Stronger than me already. Stronger than Seamus O’Donnell, stronger than Niall,” Rhiannon said, referring to the legendary High King from whom the telepathic aristocracy, O’Neill, O’Donnell, O’Conner, O’Byrne, and all the rest, traced their heritage.
“Niall is in your memories?”
“Yes, he was in my and Corwin’s direct lineage. He’s the only one in my memories who had all four Rare Gifts. Except Brenna, of course.”
They walked through the house. Bodies of people lay everywhere, twisted into grotesque positions, along with a few dogs and a cat. Rebecca saw a mouse lying in a corner. The Protectors silently fanned out to the upper floors. The silence was eerie, but no one seemed in the mood to break it.
The task force leader approached Rebecca.
*My men report three hundred seventy-two bodies in the house and surrounding area. We haven’t found anyone who survived.*
Rebecca nodded. *I didn’t expect survivors. I should say that she didn’t expect any survivors.*
*She’s Lord O’Neill’s granddaughter?*
*Yes.*
*She has the power of a Clan Chief. She’s a worthy heir.*
*She didn’t want it, so he chose Brenna instead.*
He nodded.
“I need to go to the airport,” Rhiannon said.
“What? Which airport?”
“The Ayr airport. I need to go to Belfast.”
“Why?” Rebecca asked.
“Because that’s where Hugh is.”
A hundred men were detailed to take care of the bodies, and the rest of the force gathered to leave. As Rhiannon approached the van, the task force leader stepped toward her and took her elbow.
“My Lady,” he said, bowing his head in respect, and helped her into the van.
“What was that about?” Rhiannon asked Rebecca.
“An acknowledgement of your heritage,” Rebecca answered. “A gesture of respect to Corwin’s granddaughter.”
Rhiannon stared at her. “You’re joking, right?”
“No, I’m not joking. That kind of display of power is what they expect of the aristocracy. You’ve probably carved a permanent place in O’Neill family lore today.”
“I’m not an aristocrat.”
Rebecca shrugged. “When I first came to the Clan, I didn’t understand the difference between the great families and the people who follow them,” Rebecca said. “I thought people who had ten, twelve, fifteen Gifts were fairly normal, because those were the people I knew. But the Clans are still a tribal, feudal society for a reason. We’re not all equal. They follow us not because we have a certain name, but because they look to us for protection and stability.”
She shook her hair back out of her face.
“The Clan didn’t know I was an O’Donnell, but they suspected I was a bastard of a Clan aristocrat because of my strength. Was Kendrick a Clan in Wales?”
“Yes, though it was destroyed and scattered by the English long ago. The name is derived from the Old Welsh word cynwrig, which meant clan chief.”
“Well, take some genes from the old Welsh Clan aristocracy, put them in a womb with genes from the O’Neill direct line, shake and stir for nine months, and the result is you,” Rebecca said.
“I’m just a commoner,” Rhiannon said. “The hair and the boobs draw more attention than I’m comfortable with. I never wanted to be famous or an aristocrat.”
“If you hold Brenna’s memories, you know that you can tell people from here to Sunday that you’re not special. They’ll just nod politely and assign you an unwarranted reputation for humility. But hell, who am I to interfere with your fun? If you want to pretend that you’re not special, I won’t say a thing.”
~~~
Brenna was at the O’Neill estate in Tyrone, following battle reports and worrying. Over a dozen clashes were being fought in the Glasgow area as Collin’s forces attacked the rebels. The expected battle in Ayr had started, and then unexpectedly she received word that it was over.
A spear thread from Rhiannon to Brenna interrupted a conversation she was having with Collin.
*Brenna, I need a plane at Ayr airport.* The tone of Rhiannon’s thought was as cold and bleak as winter on a Scottish moor.
*A plane?* Brenna asked. *Where do you need to go?*
*Belfast. Hugh is in Belfast. He went there to meet with Finnian.*
*Do you know where?*
*Yes, at a pub Finnian owns. I got the information from the mind of one of Hugh’s men.*
*What happened in Ayr?* Brenna asked.
*I killed them. I killed them all, but Hugh wasn’t there. I need to get to Belfast.*
*Okay, go to the airport,* Brenna told her and broke the connection. Immediately, she contacted Rebecca.
*What the hell happened in Ayr?*
*Rhiannon went berserker. Goddess, Brenna, she killed almost four hundred men in a couple of minutes. From hundreds of yards away. Now she’s just staring out the window. She told us to take her to the airport.*
*She evidently took control of someone’s mind before she killed him. She just told me that Hugh is in Belfast meeting Finnian. She wants a plane so she can go there and kill him.*
*Oh, Goddess. Are you going to let her?*
*No. I know she hates him, but I’m not going to let her spend the rest of her life tagged as a patricide. I’ll go and do it. Stall her.*
*You’re going to do it? Brenna, don’t be foolish. Wait until we can get there. You need someone to watch your back.*
*There isn’t time. But don’t worry, I won’t walk in there alone.*
Brenna broke the connection and contacted Collin.
~~~
Chapter 9
A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us. - John Steinbeck
Several black vans and a limousine with the door open waited near a private hangar at Belfast airport. Brenna stood next to the limo dressed in a black Protector’s uniform. The past weeks were taking their toll, and she felt tired. It hadn’t seemed so bad when Collin was in Tyrone with her, but he’d been in Scotland for the past two weeks. She missed him terribly. At least when he was with her, they could retire to their bed and ignore the world, at least for a short time.
Brenna didn’t even have time to take lovers when he was away. As if she could get away with it. As Lady O’Neill, she was supposed to refrain from being too blatant about her succubus nature. She wondered how he was rebalancing his energies, and with whom. He couldn’t go more than a day or two without sex or he’d go crazy. He and Rebecca had the same problem, but they usually didn’t seek each other out for relief.
Waiting for him, thinking about him, imagining his body, his hands on hers, she grew more and more agitated. An uncomfortable warmth built between her legs.
Collin’s pl
ane finally landed and taxied to the hanger. He climbed down the steps and when he reached her, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“I missed you!” she said, pulling him into the car. It immediately lurched into motion.
Brenna pulled off her boots and started unbuckling her belt. “Take your pants off,” she ordered.
“Do we have time for this?” Collin asked.
“Half an hour. More than enough time for a quickie. Get your pants off, Doyle.”
He pushed his pants down to his knees and she swung around and straddled him. She let out a deep sigh as she sank down onto his erection. Life was never so good as when Collin was inside her, their minds and their souls merging into a cosmic state of bliss and the Goddess’s joy of the world. Reveling in having him again, she sat for a moment gazing at his face and the love for her that she saw in his eyes.
Leaning forward, she kissed him and began to ride him, hard and fast. Working him with the special muscles in her vagina, she brought him quickly to his climax. Feeling his seed spill into her, she relished his life energy flowing into her mind and body, triggering her to a shuddering orgasm. Then she touched the place in her mind that sent the energy flowing back into him. She watched his aura start to glow, and that special smile that made her feel so special spread across his face.
Reluctant to break the moment, she slid off him and began to dress.
“I don’t know about you,” Collin said with a smile, leaning over and softly stroking her cheek, “but I feel a whole lot better.”
“Not me. I didn’t feel a thing,” Brenna said. “Did you get it in?”
She couldn’t keep a straight face and started giggling like a teenager.
“I’ll take that as a challenge,” he said, “when this is over.”
“Oh, good. A determined man on a mission is so exciting.” She leaned over and kissed him again, and then reached for her boots.
“I missed you,” he said.
“Oh, God, I missed you so bad,” she responded. “I sat there waiting for your plane to land, and it seemed to take forever. I was thinking of you, and I got so horny. Then I thought that it would be a good idea to make sure your energies were balanced before we walked into this mess with Hugh and Finnian.”
“Sounds like a good story to me. A commander should always be aware of the welfare of her troops,” he said with a grin.
The limo rolled to a stop. Looking out the window, Brenna saw men getting out of the van parked behind them.
“Time to go back to work,” she said, reaching for the door handle.
Collin reached out and grabbed her braid, pulled her back to him and kissed her.
“Be careful, Brenna.”
“You, too.”
“I’m glad to see that you’re wearing protective clothing,” he said. The Protector’s uniforms were made of a bullet-resistant fabric, and their jackets were bulletproof.
“I’m wearing that damned corset, too,” Brenna said. After she had been shot two years before, Seamus had ordered some of the bulletproof fabric sent to Brenna’s dressmaker. The result had been half a dozen bustier corsets. Rebecca and Collin usually had to force her to wear one when she went out in public.
Collin hadn’t checked on the team Brenna had with her, and was surprised to see Thomas O’Neill approach them. He had assumed the O’Neill Director of Security didn’t usually involve himself in field operations.
“We’re staging around the pub,” Thomas said. “When you give the signal, we’ll move in through the three doors, with a reserve force left outside.”
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Collin said.
“This could be a dangerous game,” Thomas said. “I have two men with the O’Neill shielding Gift in addition to me. We’ll be covering everyone to deflect any Neural Disruption attacks. It’s the only offensive Gift Finnian has, and of course, Hugh has it, too.”
“How did we miss that Finnian was using this pub as a base?” Collin asked.
“It’s been closed since he was exiled four years ago. We’ve checked it a couple of times since Hugh rebelled, but didn’t see any sign of activity.” Thomas ran his hand through his gray hair. “Of course, that makes it a perfect meeting place. It’s been checked out, so we’d be unlikely to think of it now.”
“How many men do we have?”
“Fifty,” Brenna answered. “We know from Rhiannon that Hugh has five men with him. He could have picked up a few more when he landed in Belfast, but a large force might attract attention. We’ve had the pub under observation for about two hours, and only a few men have gone in. None have come out.”
“Hugh just went inside,” Thomas said. “We’ll send thirty in with twenty outside.”
The distinct sound of a gunshot sounded from inside the pub. An extended volley of gunfire followed, including that of automatic weapons. It sounded like a small war had broken out. Then there was silence, followed by a couple more shots, and then silence again. Everyone had ducked for cover outside, but the shooting was all inside the building.
Thomas looked at Brenna and Collin. Brenna nodded, and Collin said, “Let’s go.”
The Clan Protectors, including Collin and Thomas, rushed for the doors, smashing them in and diving inside. More gunfire erupted.
As soon as they disappeared inside the building, Brenna caught a hint of movement by the front door. She couldn’t see anyone, but she had the impression that something was moving away from the building.
An adept with the O’Neill Gift has mental shields so strong that they can completely block any telepath except one with the O’Donnell Gift of Domination. The shields of someone with the O’Neill Gift can block even Neural Disruption energy. The telepath can become virtually invisible, both to telepaths and to normal humans. But to pull off that trick, the telepath needs to stay completely still. Any movement can betray the person’s presence.
Brenna realized what she was seeing, and moved in the direction of the escaping telepath. She sent a message to the Protectors outside the pub.
*Hugh has his O’Neill shields locked down and he’s escaping out the front door. Look for a distortion, like a heat wave, that’s moving away from the pub.*
Protectors moved to intercept a man they couldn’t see.
“Hugh,” she called, “I can see you. I’ve alerted my force, and they’re cutting off your line of escape. You’re surrounded.”
He became visible as he whirled around to face her.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” he snarled.
“I’m here to tell you that your rebellion is over. We’ve smashed your forces in Scotland and taken the estate at Ayr. The shipyard will surrender by the end of the week. It’s over, Hugh.”
“Rebellion? I’m just defending what’s rightfully mine.”
“The time to contest that was when Corwin was alive. I’ve been entrusted with Clan O’Neill, and I’m going to hold it,” Brenna said.
“You bitch! Damn Maureen to hell! I got rid of her, and her damned daughter shows up to hound me.”
He loosed a blast of Neural Disruption at her, which she deflected with her own O’Neill shield. Then he pulled a pistol and fired, simultaneously hurling a fireball. Both hit her air shield.
With both of them protected by O’Neill shields and air shields, they were virtually invulnerable. He started to turn, but Brenna seized his air shield using Telekinesis, freezing him in place.
She sent a stream of fire to bathe his shield, hoping to heat the air inside to a level he couldn’t tolerate. He expanded the air shield, pushing the fire farther away from him.
Hugh laughed. “It seems we have a stalemate. I can’t hurt you, and you can’t hurt me. So, until next time, I’ll say goodbye.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Hugh. You’re not going anywhere.”
He hit her with an empathic projection of fear and loathing that made her want to retch. She locked her shields down tighter and filtered him out. He responded
with a stronger burst of Neural Projection, but she blocked it also.
“What do you mean you got rid of my mother?”
He sneered at her. “Women think they’re smart, but they’re just good at manipulation. I drove Jack and Maureen to the airport. I gave her a box of chocolates as a going away present. The dumb cow carried her own death onto that airplane.”
Hugh’s face grew red, his expression twisted with rage. “I was the heir. Then Maureen bewitched my father. What a slut! Fucking her own damned uncle. Turning him against me and charming him into taking away my birthright. She was an abomination, a demon, just like you are.”
“That’s not true,” Brenna said. “I have his memories. He despaired of you because you refused to take any responsibility. Your whole life, all you’ve done is be a playboy. And there was a prophesy, from Delilah, that he would be succeeded by a black-haired Druid who would unite the Clans. He thought my mother was the fulfillment of the prophesy.”
“You lie!” he screamed. “My grandmother was another abomination. She fucked her own son! She took Corwin’s virginity and groomed him to be her lap dog. He wasn’t a real man. She controlled him.”
Brenna shook her head. “That’s not true either. Where did you get these weird ideas?”
She had continued to bathe his air shield with fire, and she could see sweat pouring off his face. The inside of his shield was becoming uncomfortably hot.
He hit her with Empathic Projection again, filled with all the rage and bitterness of his life and an incredible loathing of Druids, attempting to get inside her shields. Then he abruptly dissolved his air shield, and dashed away. Brenna had been holding his air shield with her Telekinesis, and his action took her off guard.
She invoked her O’Donnell Gift, forming the mental projectile that could breach any mental shields, and launched it at him. He screamed, stumbled, and fell to the ground.
In the brief instant while she drove through the shields protecting the seventeen levels of his mind, Brenna saw those thoughts and memories that lay on the surface of each level. And then her Gift shattered Hugh’s soul. His body shook, and the rattle of his final breath leaving his body announced his death.
Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4) Page 9
