“Most of the women in my family are courtesans. Some of them are also Healers, but I don’t have that Gift. And the men, well, the Kendricks aren’t much for marrying. Men are transient.”
His eyes narrowed and he shook his head. “And what made you decide to become a private investigator instead of becoming a courtesan? Isn’t that what most Druids do?”
It took a minute for his statement to make sense, then a sudden awareness blossomed. A slow smile spread across her face.
“I’m afraid you’re operating under a mistaken impression, sir. I’m not a Druid.”
“But ... I thought ...,” he stammered. “Oh, come on. Normal women don’t look like you do. You can’t bullshit me. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
“Thank you. I think.” She shrugged. “You’re not the only one who’s made that mistake.”
He studied her, and then his face grew red. “Oh, shit. I apologize. I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass.”
Surprised, Rhiannon’s head jerked up and she studied him. “You thought I was playing games with you? Teasing you? No, not teasing, you thought I was taunting you. Trying to put you in your place.” She cranked up her empathic awareness.
His face flamed. She looked around quickly, wondering if he glowed enough that other people would notice.
“What do you have against Druids?”
She didn’t think he was going to answer her, but finally he said, “I had a girlfriend when I was younger. I didn’t handle it very well.”
“I’d say you’re still not handling it. Is that why you’re in Finland rather than Ireland?”
“I don’t need any psychoanalysis.”
“No, I don’t guess you do. Don’t worry. I’m not looking for a boyfriend, and I’m not into casual sex. Especially not with a man who doesn’t like women. I hope you don’t have a problem working with a woman. But if you do, you don’t have to stay close to me. I told you that I don’t need security.”
The shock in his eyes slowly faded to hurt. Rhiannon didn’t care. Men always felt women should be careful of their feelings, but seemed to think women’s feelings didn’t matter. Screw the son of a bitch.
~~~
Chapter 18
Scientists now believe that the primary biological function of breasts is to make males stupid. - Dave Barry
Rhiannon and Vladimir met with Irina and the O’Donnell Protectors at their dacha the next day. The O’Donnell Clan had bought several farms and a large forest tract, then built a compound that resembled a small village. It didn’t look like much, but after entering a small house, Rhiannon discovered that the majority of the facility was below ground.
“Cute little basement you have here,” she told Andrei, looking around at what looked like a large log hunting lodge with no windows. “Does this extend very far?”
“It’s fairly large,” he answered. “We have garages, storage areas, and an armory. Seamus began building the complex in the early sixties, when the Soviets still banned private ownership of property. We needed a secure base to monitor the Russian Clans, and at that time, we weren’t sure if the U.S. and the Soviet Union might start throwing nukes around. We expanded things quite a bit after the Soviet Union broke apart.”
Andrei’s wife Yelena greeted them and escorted them to a large dining room. Irina and a couple of dozen Protectors sat around a table laden with food.
“My sources inside the FSB tell me that there was a bit of a stir inside the FSB this morning,” Andrei told Rhiannon after Yelena placed a loaded plate in front of her. “Neither Yuri nor Vasily showed up for work, and no one can contact them. No one seems to know who is in charge of the President’s security detail.”
Rhiannon nodded. “I thought that Jill would be coming with you.”
“She’s going to stay in St. Petersburg until the situation stabilizes a bit. There was an assassination attempt on Galina the night before last.”
“What happened?”
“Some of Sholokhov’s men managed to sneak through all of our security measures,” Irina said, taking a sip of her wine. “Jill, Galina and I were having dinner when they came crashing in and started shooting up the place. It was very rude. We had to have our dessert out on the terrace because the parlor was such a mess.”
The prim expression on Irina’s face caused the group to laugh, and Rhiannon asked, “Did any of them survive?”
“Yeah, we captured one of them. Jill did.”
“Out of how many?” Vladimir asked.
“Their force was about a hundred men,” Andrei said. “Twenty of them got through to Galina. We probably should have let them all through and taken fewer casualties.” He shook his head. “A bunch of thugs against three of the most powerful telepaths in the country. Assault rifles against air shields and Neural Disruption made for a short fight.”
“It seems there are a lot of pitched battles here. Is that normal in Russia?” Rhiannon asked.
Yelena laughed, “Only when the Irish come to town.”
~~~
The next day, Jill contacted Rhiannon. *Sergei sent an emissary, asking about Irina. He flew in last night and flew out after talking with Galina.*
*Oh? What did he have to say?*
*Give Irina to him or Sergei would consider her kidnapping a declaration of war. Gorbachev knows that Romanov is weakened, and Galina was told that if she wanted to keep her seat, let alone her head, not to fuck with them. The guy wasn’t very diplomatic.*
*And you said?*
*Galina told them that she wanted reassurances. If Sergei doesn’t sign at least a neutrality pact and stay out of Romanov business, then he’ll never see Irina. His man said that wasn’t going to make Sergei very happy and she said she didn’t care. Those were her terms. She also told him that Irina wasn’t being held in St. Petersburg and that attacking Romanov wouldn’t get him anything. So the ball is back in his court.*
Rhiannon reported this to the group at the dacha.
“There was a lot of activity at the Gorbachev compound early this morning,” Andrei said. “Of course, it could have been a party for all we know. We don’t have anyone inside.”
“So, we still don’t know where my grandfather is,” Irina said softly, not really asking a question. She seemed to gaze off into space, obviously lost in thought.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I think we need to find out if he’s there, somewhere in Moscow, or in the south. Any ideas about getting inside without a full-scale assault?”
The group brainstormed ideas for about half an hour without any brilliant plans emerging. Finally, Irina said, “This isn’t getting us any closer than all the other discussions we’ve had.”
Shifting in her seat, she leaned her elbows on the table and said, “While I was in St. Petersburg, Seamus held a conference call with me, Brenna, Rebecca, Jill, Morrighan, a Druid historian from O’Neill and Fergus O’Byrne. It seems Seamus has been giving this problem of how to get to my grandfather a lot of thought. He delved into his memories, and came up with something from our fight against the Romans.”
She turned to Rhiannon. “Brenna said you should pull up the memories of Maeb O’Conner, around 1600 AD, for something similar.”
Rhiannon sorted through the memories she’d received from Corwin and found Maeb. “Blackwater,” she announced. “The Battle of the Yellow Ford, August 14, 1598. O’Neill and O’Donnell forces destroyed an English army.”
Irina nodded. “It seems Seamus has memories of one of Boudica’s daughters who escaped to Ireland after the Roman’s crushed her rebellion. Boudica was a Druid, as were her daughters, and the British Clans wreaked havoc on the Romans until they were defeated. And for those who don’t know, Morrighan has the memories of the Irish High Priestesses going back to the Cataclysm. Every Druid High Priestess for the past twenty-six centuries.”
“Yes, so she told me,” Rhiannon said. The others at the table looked duly impressed.
“This is a rough outline of what we discus
sed,” Irina said, and proceeded to explain how Druids had participated in ancient battles.
~~~
Dressed in a skin-tight black leather catsuit and knee-high boots, her hair loose and flowing over her shoulders, Rhiannon stepped out of the O’Donnell limousine carrying a pistol with a silencer in one hand. Irina followed, wearing a loose summer dress and sandals.
Irina chuckled. “I guess we have the answer to one question. If Gorbachev’s men are as distracted by what you’re wearing as ours are, then that suit was a good idea.”
Those with the Kilpatrick Gift of Power Shielding are able to extend their strong mental shields to someone they are touching. Rhiannon took Irina’s arm and covered the succubus with her mental shield, then created a dome of hardened air with Aerokinesis. The two women walked down the road away from the limousine and the Protectors following it.
When they came within sight of the Gorbachev compound, they stopped, and Rhiannon scanned the compound with her mind.
*There’s a guardhouse outside the gate,* Rhiannon sent, *with two guards inside. A door with an electronic keypad goes through the wall from the back of the guardhouse. Six more guards are patrolling the front of the compound inside the wall. Another two are in the foyer of the main house, and there’s about forty men and twenty women inside. Another two hundred men are patrolling other parts of the compound or in two barracks behind the house.*
Irina nodded, then proceeded to pull her dress over her head and drop it on the ground. Other than her sandals, she was completely nude. Taking Rhiannon’s arm, they continued walking toward the compound.
As they neared the guardhouse, Irina turned on her Glamor, the specialized manifestation of Charisma that is part of the Succubus Gift, and gave it full power. She shone like a goddess, spectacularly beautiful. At the same time, Rhiannon boosted her own Charisma to its highest level and lifted Irina off the ground using Telekinesis, then resumed walking toward the compound.
Projecting Influence, another manifestation of the Succubus Gift, Irina drew the men inside the guardhouse out. They walked toward her transfixed, their faces blank with wonder. Rhiannon dropped the air shield and Irina sent a massive blast of pheromones toward the men.
Floating to the first man, Irina put her arms around his neck and kissed him. To Rhiannon, the kiss seemed to last forever, but checking her watch showed it was only a minute until he slumped to the ground. Irina floated to the second man and kissed him until he passed out. Rhiannon set her back on the ground and they entered the guardhouse.
As they did, she felt Irina push life energy into her, replenishing what she had used and filling her reserves. One of Rhiannon’s reservations about the plan was the amount of energy she would be expected to use.
Irina had laughed, telling her in the limo, “Don’t worry about it. I took five lads, all volunteers, this afternoon.” Indeed, the blond succubus Glowed with life energy. “I’ll feed you with everything you can hold, and then replenish you as we go with what I drain from the men we disable. You’re the girl who’s protecting my sweet ass, so you can bet I’ll make sure you’re in fighting shape.”
Rhiannon read the keypad sequence from the mind of one of the guards and unlocked the door. While she was doing so, Irina was busy draining the guards on the other side of the wall.
*How fast can you drain someone?* Rhiannon asked.
*Enough to disable them? About a minute without touching them. But it doesn’t matter whether it’s one or a dozen. I don’t have to do them one at a time.*
*You took a minute to drain each of those outside guards, and you were touching them.*
*They aren’t merely disabled,* Irina sent. *They’re close to death. It will take them days to recover. They’ll be able to sit up and eat the day after tomorrow, but they won’t be doing any talking or shooting tonight.*
Pushing the door open, Rhiannon peeked around the compound. Two men were sprawled on the pavement. Another sat slumped next to the door, and fifty feet away two more lay on the dacha’s front porch.
*There are a couple more you can’t see,* Irina sent. *Don’t worry, all the men near us are out of commission. The ones we need to worry about are those monitoring the security systems. Let’s hope they aren’t paying too much attention to their cameras.*
Irina paused at the front door, and Rhiannon felt the minds of the guards in the foyer beyond gradually dim and then slip into unconsciousness. Irina nodded, and opened the door.
*Showtime again,* Irina sent, once again beginning to Glow. Rhiannon lifted her up, holding her hand, and floated her through the doorway.
Rhiannon blasted through the shields of one of the men lying there. *Irina, Sergei is in the house.* Rhiannon sent her a floor plan and pointed to the area Sergei would be.
They cautiously crept through the house, Irina blasting pheromones and broadcasting aversion using Influence. At the same time, she was draining everyone she came into mental contact with and feeding Rhiannon with as much energy as she could hold. The lights dimmed ahead of them as both women drained the house’s electrical circuits.
A klaxon sounded in the compound outside.
*Shit!* Irina sent. *Someone set off the alarms. Rhi, I can’t drain that many people. We need to get this done now!*
Rhiannon opened a new channel in her mind. *Brenna! I need you now!* She sent an image of the room they were standing in. Brenna appeared in front of them, wearing a loose, soft cotton shift.
*I like the outfit,* Brenna sent to Irina as she pulled the shift over her head and began to Glow, quickly matching Irina.
*We need your O’Neill Gift,* Rhiannon sent. Pulling a second pistol from the holster at her waist, she offered it to Brenna. To her surprise, Brenna reacted by taking a step back.
*God, don’t give her a gun!* Irina sent. *She’s more likely to blow her foot off than hit anything she aims at.*
Brenna nodded. *I have all the weapons I need. What’s going on?*
Both women sent her images of the situation.
*Rhi, manage the air shield for you and Irina. I’ll take care of our mental shields, so don’t worry about the Rivera Gift. Tell your Protectors to stay back and send me a landing spot outside the compound. Now, where are we going?*
Brenna floated off the floor, and she and Irina preceded Rhiannon down a hallway. The klaxon outside continued to blare its message of alarm. Then the lights dimmed even more and the klaxon stopped.
*Thank God,* Rhiannon sent. *That thing was driving me crazy.*
*I wonder why they turned it off,* Irina sent.
*They didn’t,* Brenna replied. *I did. I drained its power source.*
Brenna knew of their plan, and was prepared in case her friends needed her. The ability to teleport them out was their main contingency plan, but Rhiannon had earlier revealed that Sergei’s Rivera Gift was her major concern. While Rhiannon’s Kilpatrick Gift might deflect or reduce Neural Disruption energy, it wouldn’t block it the way Brenna’s O’Neill Gift would. The other advantage was that Brenna didn’t need to be in contact with either of them to give them that protection.
They approached a pair of French doors at the end of a hallway on the second floor.
*Rhi, don’t cover her with your air shield, just hold it in front of her,* Brenna sent. Glancing toward Irina, she sent, *Ready?*
Irina nodded. Brenna sent a projectile of hardened air at the doors and they blew open, banging against the walls inside. The succubi drifted into the room, blasting pheromones in such quantities that Rhiannon wondered why she couldn’t see a cloud forming.
Four men stood facing them. They all recognized Sergei Gorbachev from their briefings, but he looked older than the pictures they had. Gray haired, thin and shorter than average height, Brenna could see elements of Irina’s features in his face. Two men stood to his right and one to his left. Something about the man standing directly to his right gave Brenna the shivers.
*Brenna, capture the man to Sergei’s right,* Irina sent. *Rhi, take out
the guy on our left.*
“Hello, Grandfather,” Irina said.
“Irina,” Sergei said, a leering smile spreading across his face. “How good to meet you at last.” He looked her up and down and licked his lips.
The creepy man next to him screamed as Brenna breached his shields with her O’Donnell gift. Without any warning, Irina lashed out with Neural Disruption, pouring power into Sergei and the man on his left. They jerked, dancing an epileptic jig, and fell to the floor.
The other man raised his pistol and Rhiannon released a bolt of electrical energy at him. He flew backward, slamming against the wall ten feet behind him, then slid to the floor and lay still.
“God, Irina,” Brenna said. “You killed him.”
“That’s what I came here to do,” Irina said, her face a stoic mask. “I don’t have any interest in anything he might say.”
“So who is that?” Rhiannon asked, gesturing to the man standing alone with blank eyes.
“Holy shit!” Brenna exclaimed. “He’s Lavrentiy Beria!” The man she had captured was the notorious head of Stalin’s NKVD, the secret police force that was later renamed to KGB.
“I thought he was dead.”
“People think Seamus died seventy-five years ago,” Brenna replied. She searched through the man’s memories. “The communists thought he was dead. But he’s a telepath. Instead of being executed, he escaped. Sergei’s father gave him asylum in exchange for his knowledge of the NKVD’s internal workings.”
“And all the dirt he held on the Communist Party’s ruling elite,” Irina said.
“How did you know who he was?” Brenna asked.
“He was one of my mother’s rapists,” Irina said. “I saw him in her mind, and then I saw a picture of him in a history book. As to why I want him alive? Because I’ll bet you he knows all the internal workings of Clan Gorbachev. Every bank account, every closet containing a skeleton, every secret. Am I right?”
Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4) Page 20
