Broken Dolls: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 3)

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Broken Dolls: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 3) Page 8

by BR Kingsolver


  I could understand kidnapping succubi and the carriers, but the roommate didn’t make any sense.

  Meara was a typical succubus, beautiful, with a voluptuous figure. Growing up in the O’Byrne Clan, she’d have known what she was since puberty. Most succubi don’t revel in their strange Gift. They just accept it as something they can’t do anything about. It has its plusses and minuses.

  Peter contacted us as we were walking out to our car. *The woman who brought the girl to O’Driscoll has gone to ground. The house looks like the one we saw in the girl’s mind.*

  “Hot damn! Let’s go,” I said. Things were starting to heat up and I felt like we were making some progress.

  By the time we arrived at the house, it was starting to get dark. We met with the Protectors who were watching it.

  “We scouted the house,” one of them said. “Eight occupants, all telepaths. Six women and two men. There are three doors and they aren’t very sturdy, but there’s a security system. If we go in there, it’ll have to be quick because the Garda will be here in a hurry.”

  “Don’t worry about the security system,” I said, checking my weapon. “Get me within fifty feet of the house and I’ll disarm it.”

  Peter shot me a look. “You don’t even know what kind of system it is.”

  “It uses electricity, doesn’t it?”

  Morrighan chuckled.

  “Just cutting off the power won’t disarm it,” the first Protector said. “There’s probably a battery backup.”

  “Batteries are electric,” I said. Electrokinesis is one of my Gifts. It’s not considered rare, but it’s not common either.

  “Listen to her,” Morrighan said. “Rhiannon, do you want me to take down the rest of the electricity on the block?” In succubi, Electrokinesis is enhanced. They feel electric power everywhere they go. I’d been told it’s like a background hum in their heads.

  I laughed. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. But if you hear police sirens, you might disable their cars before they get here.”

  The Protectors stared at us, heads swiveling back and forth.

  Peter gave Morrighan a hard look. “We need to talk after this is over. You can disable cars at a distance?”

  She blushed, but gave him a flirting smile, “I’m a woman of many talents.”

  Peter didn’t want me in danger, his emotion so strong that it was palpable. “That popgun isn’t a real weapon,” he said, looking at the small semiautomatic pistol in my hand.

  I nodded at one of the female protectors. “Her .380 is good and mine isn’t?”

  “That little thing is a .380?” he pointed at my pistol, which was barely larger than my hand.

  “Yeah, and damned expensive. Quit stalling, Peter. Let’s do this.” I noticed that he had ordered the female Protectors to stay on guard outside the house. It irritated the hell out of me.

  He handed me a bulletproof vest and I put it on. I can generate an air shield that is better than a vest, but there’s a limit as to how many Talents I can use at the same time. Using our Gifts isn’t free, in an energy sense. Our power comes from our own life energy, not any outside source.

  Four Protectors took me through an alley. When I got close enough to separate the house’s electrical system from those of the neighboring houses, I focused on the small point source in the basement. I could feel the difference in its current from the house system. I drained the battery, and then started draining the circuits in the house. I had been told I could probably channel and hold a lightning bolt, but I’d never tried it.

  The lights inside went out. I felt as though my skin was stretching with all the electricity I was holding. I touched a fence and there was a flash. The fence hummed like a power line, and the Protectors all jumped away from it.

  “Stay behind me,” I cautioned them. “This much current channeling into me is a bit hard to control.” Wide eyed, they all nodded.

  Just as we approached the back door, we heard a crash from the front of the house. I nodded and one of my mates projected an air shield with sufficient force to blow the door off its hinges.

  Holding my pistol with both hands in front of me, I dived into what turned out to be the kitchen. It was empty. I scrambled to my feet and stopped just inside the open doorway to the room beyond. I heard the men enter the kitchen behind me.

  Peeking around the corner, I saw that the dining room was also empty and quickly moved through it to the next doorway. A gunshot exploded from the front of the house. It sounded like a cannon going off in the enclosed space.

  *Where are the girls?* I sent to the man hovering near my back. I was scanning in front of us and didn’t find them.

  *In the basement,* he finally responded.

  *Peter, what’s going on?* I asked.

  *We’re stalled. They have guns and air shields on and off. One used Neural Disruption but missed everyone.*

  *Get out. The girls are in the basement. I’m going to light the place up.*

  *Retreat! Everyone out. Now!* I heard Peter send to his team. Then, *We’re out.*

  I wheeled around the corner and saw a man with a pistol hiding behind a couch. I let a bolt of electrical energy go at the same time I assaulted his mental shields. His head jerked toward me. The electricity hit an air shield and shot everywhere through the room. As I battered through his first mental shield, the air shield dropped. Another bolt of electricity blew him screaming across the room. He lay still against the wall.

  The smell of ozone and burned flesh filled the room. Cautiously, I snuck across the room and crouched behind the couch. One of the Protectors followed me.

  *You’re a brave soul.* I told him.

  *I’m covering your back. Don’t turn around.*

  * Okay.* I was serious about him being brave, but he was also a bit foolish. I wouldn’t have gotten that close to me. I don’t know if it showed, but my body was vibrating with the energy I was drawing in from the house’s wiring. Adrenaline is nothing compared to raw voltage.

  I crossed to the body of the man I’d killed and then inched along the wall. I shifted my pistol into my left hand. I could feel two people, a man and a woman, on the other side of the wall.

  “Give it up,” I called. “You can’t get out of here. All you can do is get dead. Surrender and you won’t be harmed.”

  I don’t know what tipped me off, but I dropped to the floor, covering myself with an air shield and throwing all the power I had to my mental shields.

  *Get down!* I sent to the men behind me.

  The Rivera Gift, which a person can use to project neural energy to disrupt a living being’s neural network, their brain and nervous system, is one of the most deadly. Even someone with little power can cause lasting injury, and only someone with the O’Neill Gift of Super Shielding can block it.

  I have the lesser Gift of Power Shielding that can deflect or diminish a neural energy projection, but I can’t completely block it. Someone on the other side of that wall let loose a burst of neural energy that could have burned out my mind, but they aimed too high. The near miss still left my entire nervous system buzzing, and electrical sparks crackled around my body as my hold on the house current slipped.

  The source of the energy gave me a focal point, and I sent a mental hammer against the person’s shields. Her first level shield fell, and I battered down the rest, capturing her mind. I almost drowned in her panic before I gained control.

  Looking out of her eyes, I saw a man with a pistol crouched in front of her. It was pretty easy to make her pick up a lamp and break it over his head.

  I swung around the corner and stomped his hand. He dropped the gun.

  *Peter, we’re clear.*

  I leaned against the wall, pointing my pistol at the man lying on the floor with shards of the broken lamp all around him. The men with me spilled into the room and secured our opponents.

  I carefully let go of my link to the house’s electrical network and the lights came back on.

&nb
sp; A voice spoke from behind me, “My apologies, Miss Kendrick. I’ll remember not to insult you by underestimating you again.”

  I forced a smile as I turned to face Peter. “Apology accepted.” I started shaking. Goddess, that was too close. We all could have died in that house.

  He stepped toward me and slipped the pistol from my hand, then pulled me into an embrace, holding me tight. I hate weak females, but damn it was good to have his strong arms hold me against his solid chest.

  “Ever killed anyone before?” he murmured into my hair.

  “No.” Maybe. I wasn’t sure. I’d never stood over a dead man and known that I’d killed him.

  He didn’t say anything else, just held me. After a while, I pushed away from him and put out my hand. He gave me my pistol and I put it in my pocket after engaging the safety.

  I met his eyes. *Thanks.*

  *No problem.*

  Morrighan walked in and looked around. “The housekeeper is going to be mad as hell,” she said. The walls were scorched from the electric bolts I’d loosed. A couch smoldered and a couple of Protectors were pouring water on it using pans from the kitchen. Pieces of the broken lamp lay scattered on the floor.

  “We’ve been blurring the minds of everyone in the neighborhood,” she continued, “but you were a loud lot. We should hurry and get out of here. Where are the girls?”

  We trooped down to the basement. Sharon Dunn and four younger girls sat on cots, wearing plain, white cotton shifts. They were all very pretty, achingly young, and totally blank, staring wide-eyed at us.

  I must have muttered what I was thinking out loud.

  “What did you say?” Morrighan asked me.

  “I said they look like broken dolls.”

  She turned and looked at them for a full minute, and then nodded. There were tears in her eyes. “Yes, they do.”

  The Protectors found clothing for them in an upstairs closet, and Morrighan and I helped them to get dressed.

  When the youngest girl stood up, I gasped. Morrighan turned and looked. “Goddess,” she breathed.

  “What’s your name, honey?” I asked, pulling up the hem of her shift so I could get a better look.

  “Mairead,” she said in a little girl’s voice. She was a succubus, and although her body looked like that of a well-developed teenager, she had the face of a very young girl. I didn’t think she could be any older than fourteen, and she could pass for twelve. She had half-healed scars from some kind of whip on her bum and the back of her legs.

  We loaded the girls and our captives in the vans and headed for the estate. Peter said a construct artist from corporate headquarters would meet us there. The estate had their best child psychologist and Lady O’Byrne. I asked if he was talking about two separate people.

  Morrighan managed a small smile, “Maybe we should say the Lady and our second-best child psychologist.”

  ~~~

  Chapter 9

  My captive was Ramona Fitzpatrick, a seventy-year-old telepath with five Gifts. I figured she picked up the Rivera Gift, commonly called Neural Disruption, from her Spanish mother. I’d been in her mind for almost forty minutes, and what I found there was enough to ruin my appetite for a month.

  I sat in the back of the van watching the Healer working on the girl with the whipping scars. Ramona’s memories included one of her restraining the girl while O’Driscoll beat and raped her.

  I turned to Peter and Morrighan. “Peter, would you like to join me for the interrogation? I don’t know Dublin or the people in this city.”

  Morrighan opened her mouth, but I laid my hand on her cheek. “No. You don’t want to see this. Believe me, you don’t. You’d have nightmares.”

  I’d probably have nightmares. No sense in both of us suffering.

  Peter joined me and I let him into Ramona’s cesspool of a mind. By the time we reached the O’Byrne estate, I knew more about Brendan O’Driscoll than I ever wanted to. He and Ramona had been lovers for five years. She was the submissive to O’Driscoll’s sadistic dominant, and O’Driscoll was a piece of work. I should introduce Ramona to Meg Whitman’s husband after the divorce. He wouldn’t even have to compel her.

  Ramona took the girls O’Driscoll seduced, drugged and kidnapped, and called in a construct artist from London to implant the constructs. O’Driscoll would use them until he got tired of them, then pass them around to his mates. When the men got tired of the girls, O’Driscoll sold them to John Gordon, Lord and Clan Chief of the English Gordon Clan.

  The important thing for me was Myrna. The last time Ramona had seen her, she was boarding a plane to London with her new owner. I finally had a trail. The puzzling thing was that Ramona had no knowledge of Sharon Dunn’s roommate. That disappearance was still a mystery.

  We turned the girls over to Lady O’Byrne, the psychologist, two Healers and the construct artist. My Lady said she would call us after they checked the girls out and got them settled.

  I dragged myself up the stairs to the room I’d stayed in before. Peter said he’d send a couple of his team to Morrighan’s to get my clothes. It would take a couple of hours, and that suited me fine. I planned on pouring a hot bath in that huge tub and soaking in it until they showed up.

  In the process of carrying out that plan, the bath half-full and I half-undressed, the door to my room opened and someone gave a perfunctory knock.

  “May I come in?” Peter called.

  “Sure,” I responded, “I’m as decent as I ever get.”

  He was chuckling when he came into the bathroom. His hands held a large bottle of ale and a small bottle of whiskey. “I thought you might need a little nourishment.”

  With my usual elegant sophistication, I snatched the ale from his hand, gave him a quick kiss, and turned the bottle upside down in my mouth. Goddess, it tasted good.

  Taking a glass from the vanity, he half-filled it with whiskey and set it on the ledge over the tub. “Is there anything else I can do for you, My Lady?” he said with a smirk.

  Giving him a grin, I said, “Sure, come on back when I smell better.”

  “Oh, no. As tempting as that sounds, I have work to do. I also need a good night’s sleep. I don’t plan on letting you meet O’Driscoll alone.”

  I realized today was Monday and I had a luncheon date with the MP the following day.

  “All right. I’ll give you a pass this time.” I took another swig of ale. “Peter, thanks. I appreciate this afternoon.”

  “You were impressive,” he said. “If you ever decide to take a full-time job, let me know.” He turned and walked out. I heard the door to my room close.

  I lay in the tub, alternately sipping the beer and the whiskey, feeling a bit melancholy. I had been joking with Peter, but I’d never had a real relationship. It would be nice, though, to have someone to hold tonight.

  ~~~

  The Protectors briefed me on their interrogations of the two people we’d captured. The man was a cousin of O’Driscoll’s and had worked for him a very long time. As such, he knew a lot about O’Driscoll’s activities. Lord O’Byrne had ordered a number of operations as a result of that knowledge, but it was all outside my concern.

  The construct artist had collapsed the girls’ constructs and Lady O’Byrne and the counselor were working with them. One thing for certain, I knew I wasn’t going to let anyone get anywhere close to me with a syringe. Even a telepath can’t detoxify some drugs fast enough to escape their effects.

  The Protectors also reported that O’Driscoll had gone to O’Shaughnessy’s that morning, probably to retrieve the girl. He’d left there and gone straight to the house where we had captured Ramona. From there, he’d gone to Leinster House, then to his flat.

  I was interested to see if he showed up for our luncheon appointment.

  Just before Morrighan and I went to O’Driscoll’s office, Peter informed us that the MP was headed out of town, surrounded by heavy security. His secretary told us that he’d cancelled all his appointments due to a
family emergency and had gone home to Cork. Too bad. I was really looking forward to lunch.

  ~~~

  We met Peter for lunch instead and I couldn’t help but notice that he had a bit of a succubus Glow about him. Morrighan touched my arm and I turned to look at her. I snapped back to reality and realized Peter had asked me a question, but I hadn’t really heard it.

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking about something,” I told him.

  “We have a discreet tail on O’Driscoll,” Peter said. “Do you plan on following him to Cork?”

  “Oh, no. I don’t think so,” I said. “Unless Lord O’Byrne wants me to. Ramona was very clear that they’d sold Myrna and she went to London. I think I should be headed there.”

  He nodded, then turned to Morrighan and looked at her expectantly.

  “Do you want me to come to London with you?” she asked me.

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t see any point to it. Your knowledge of Dublin has been invaluable, but London’s my hunting ground.”

  “Considering what we ran into here, I’d feel more comfortable if you’d at least take some of my men to watch your back,” Peter said.

  “Thanks,” I said, “but I don’t need a gang following me around in London. They’d just slow me down and I don’t have the infrastructure to support them. Besides, no one there is going to connect me with O’Byrne or Myrna. I’m better off going it alone.”

  Morrighan looked skeptical, but Peter simply studied my face for a long minute then nodded.

  As we finished our lunch, one of the Protectors, the man who had covered my back at Ramona’s slave house, walked into the restaurant. He wore the black jacket, but otherwise was dressed casually.

  “Davin will take you to the airport,” Peter said.

  In the van with Davin and a driver who was introduced as Edwin, I noticed there were two small duffle bags in addition to my two suitcases. I also noticed that Edwin was dressed the same as Davin. Dress wasn’t the only thing that was the same. Both were about a foot taller than me and it was impossible to tell them apart.

 

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