Succubus Rising, An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga)

by BR Kingsolver

  Holding her breasts in his hands, he made love to her, occasionally crying his thanks to God and telling her she was blessed. When he reached his climax, she triggered the energy feedback loop so as not to drain him completely, but also to enhance and extend his pleasure.

  He didn’t disappoint her or her camera. Rising up on his knees as he spilled inside her, he threw back his head and shouted, “Hallelujah! Glory be to God for all the blessings he gives us.”

  Then he collapsed, half of his life energy drained away.

  Brenna got up and turned off the camera, then poured herself some more of the cordial, and took her purse into the bathroom. Taking two cotton tipped swabs from her purse, she liberally coated them with his semen and put them into glass vials. She got dressed, then sent a spear thought to Rebecca that she was ready to go home.

  ~~~

  Karen called Margaret Townsend and made an appointment to come by her office on Monday evening. She brought a laptop computer and set it on the congresswoman’s desk, slipping a CD into its slot. Townsend’s face set into grim lines as she watched the beginning of the movie, then showed dismay and blushed scarlet as it progressed. By the end, she was incredulous. She kept trying to turn her face away but couldn’t stop watching.

  “My God, what a fucking hypocrite,” she exclaimed at the end. Looking at Karen, sadness showing in her eyes, she said, “I really have turned to the dark side, haven’t I?”

  “No,” Karen told her, “you’re just seeing the final death of your illusions. Think of how many young women he’s seduced this way. He’s far too polished to have hit on these tactics just for Brenna. It’s all about the money and power with him. Who knows what he really believes. I wonder if he knows anymore. But it’s not too late. If you don’t want me to give this to him, let me know.” She ejected the CD and put it back in its case. “Personally, I’d like to see his kind burn in hell. I used to have illusions about this town, but the people in this building drove a stake through their heart a long time ago.”

  She didn’t tell Townsend about the wealth of information Brenna had plundered from Macklin’s mind. O’Donnell had far more than this film to hang him with, and Karen planned to blackmail him for the rest of his life in office.

  “Margaret, we aren’t the only firm that plays these games in Washington. We’re just a lot better at it than the rest of them.”

  “She seems like such a nice girl, smart and funny and …” Townsend trailed off. “How can she do this? How can you make her do this?”

  “She’s even more wonderful than you can imagine,” Karen said softly. “And I don’t make her do anything. She’s the second largest stockholder in the corporation that owns my company. She volunteers, and I pay her less than any other lobbyist who works for me. She has more money than you or I will see in our lifetimes.”

  Karen shrugged, “Her attitude toward sex is quite different than most people’s. She doesn’t see anything immoral in what she does, but she did comment that Macklin’s immorality sickened her. His intellectual and ethical immorality.”

  Karen picked up the laptop and put it away. “When you try to understand Brenna, realize that she sees the world as far more black and white than you and I do. She has very few shades of gray. There are the good guys and the bad guys. Occasionally, the good guys have to do bad things, but as long as they’re doing them to the bad guys, it’s okay. Everyone falls in love with her once they get to know her.”

  “I can understand that,” Townsend said. “That’s why this sort of thing bothers me. It just seems so out of character for the young lady I’ve come to know.”

  Karen shook her head. “You can’t try to fit her in a conventional box. No matter how many times she might rent her body, she’ll never be a whore.”

  Standing, Karen said, “Let me know what you want me to do with this.” Leaving the CD on Townsend’s desk, she took her computer and left.

  Two days later Karen caught Rep. Macklin in the hall of the Capitol. “Representative? I’m Karen MacIntyre, of MacIntyre and Associates.” She handed him her card. “I believe you know one of my employees, Brenna O’Donnell. She asked me to give you this, as a thank you.” Handing him a small package, Karen smiled and walked off.

  Back in his office, he took the CD out of its wrapping and with foreboding slid it into his computer. In shock, he watched himself seducing Brenna. White and shaking, he fumbled for the piece of paper in the package with the CD. The message consisted of one line, “We have saved the DNA in case there is a need for corroboration.”

  Margaret Townsend met Karen in the hall of the Capitol. “Thanks for the help. I spoke with Macklin this morning, and it seems he’s had a change of heart concerning the funding for family planning services.” She laughed softly, “He seemed really excited about a movie I told him I’d seen. I think he recognized my favorite line. You know, the one that starts, ‘Hallelujah, glory be to God for all the blessings he gives us’?”

  Karen laughed along with her.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER 8

  Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations, which it requires strength, strength and courage, to yield to. - Oscar Wilde

  Karen called Brenna into her office and congratulated her on a job well done.

  “You’re in line for a bonus if you’ll take it.”

  Brenna shook her head. “I don’t need the money, Karen. It’s enough to get a gold star.”

  Chuckling, Karen said, “I’ll stick one on your office door. But that’s not the main reason I asked to see you. I’ve had a rather unusual request from Margaret Townsend. She wants to know if you’ll join her for dinner, a social dinner, on Saturday evening. She also asked if you might know a nice quiet place that she wouldn’t have to worry about the press or gossip.”

  Surprised, Brenna tried to imagine what Townsend might want. “Karen, I didn’t see anything in her dossier about her being gay.”

  “To my knowledge she’s not, and I’ve been in her mind a few times. I’ve known her since she came to Washington as a first year congresswoman, and we’ve become rather friendly. I’ve had dinner with her a few times, just the two of us, socially. I think she’s very lonely. She’s asked me a few questions about you. I think you baffle her. She can’t seem to get her mind around your sexuality.”

  “Hell, I still have trouble with that sometimes. When I first discovered what a succubus is, and that I am one, I couldn’t get my mind around it at all. I guess I’m a real enigma to a norm. I mean, why would a rich PhD want to be a whore?”

  She smiled softly and lifted her hand, cutting off Karen’s response. “Because it feels so damn good. Because I can, and I don’t have to explain it to the people I really care about. And you know something? I actually don’t get laid near as much as some of the single Christian women in this town.”

  Brenna met Margaret at her favorite bistro in Georgetown. When they sat down, the older woman thanked her for coming and asked if she minded the intrusion on her Saturday night.

  “Oh, no, I didn’t have anything going. Collin is coming down tomorrow and taking me to a performance at the Kennedy Center, and then we’re going back to West Virginia on Monday.”

  “Collin?”

  “My fiancé. I spend a lot of time up in the hills so I can be with him.”

  “Oh.” Margaret was quiet as the waiter came and took their drink order. “Brenna, I hope you don’t think I’m just nosy, but does he know …”

  “That I work as a prostitute for a lobbying firm?” Brenna finished. She watched the other woman’s face flame scarlet. “Yes, he knows. We work for the same company.”

  Townsend took a sip of her drink, “I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to meet me, and I start off with an intrusive personal question. I wanted a chance to get to know you because I’m attracted to you.”

  Her face grew even redder, “No, that came out wrong. Not sexua
lly or physically attracted, but by you as a person. I know we’re quite far apart in age, but I feel an affinity with you. It isn’t easy trying to make friends in this town, especially in my position. Oh, hell, I apologize. This was a bad idea.”

  She started to rise, and Brenna reached out, grasping her hand. “Margaret, please sit down. Please?”

  Townsend resumed her seat.

  “That was rude of me, also,” Brenna said. “I like you too. I don’t know a lot of people my own age, and many of my friends are much older than I am. Should we start over?” Brenna flashed her smile.

  “Margaret, let me tell you a little about me, and maybe it will help you understand.” Brenna fished her wallet out of her purse and opened it, displaying a picture.

  “Yes, you’re very beautiful,” Margaret allowed.

  “That’s not me. It’s my mother.”

  Eyes wide, Margaret looked back and forth from Brenna to the picture.

  “That was taken on her forty-seventh birthday. Uncanny isn’t it? She was a courtesan, the most famous and successful courtesan in Europe. I don’t come from a family that embraces the kind of Christian hypocrisy that Macklin does.”

  Margaret nodded. “They sometimes get caught, have their little scandals, but if I or any other woman were to do that we’d be crucified. I guess that’s part of what fascinates me about you. I wish I could be that free. I grew up in the free love sixties and seventies, and I really don’t see anything wrong with sex. God knows, my Christianity is a sham, only there for the voters.”

  Her eyes drifted beyond Brenna. “There’s a woman sitting over there, a very beautiful young lady with the most striking eyes. I’ve seen her around quite a bit lately. It seems almost as though she’s following me, watching me.”

  “Amber, almost golden eyes?” Brenna asked without turning.

  “Yes. Do you know her?”

  “She’s my bodyguard. Also my best friend.”

  “Your bodyguard?”

  “Yes, when you’re the heir to a major family fortune, people worry about kidnappings and such. I’m never alone except in my bedroom. I can’t even go to the ladies room alone in a public place.”

  “I hate to see her sitting over there alone. Why don’t you ask her to join us?”

  “You don’t mind? Really, she’s used to it, but on the other hand, you can also speak freely in front of her. She would never repeat anything to anyone.”

  “Ask her, please.”

  Brenna turned and motioned. Rebecca stood and signaled a waiter. He brought another chair to their table.

  “Representative Margaret Townsend, my best friend, Rebecca Healy.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” Margaret said, shaking Rebecca’s hand. She smiled, “I was just remarking on the striking eyes the beautiful young lady across the room has, and Brenna told me who you are.”

  Rebecca colored slightly. “Thank you. It’s not too often people call me beautiful when Brenna’s around.”

  “Oh, my dear, you’re both very lovely. I don’t think you need to worry about comparisons. We were just discussing sexual mores. I’m having a bit of trouble separating my public persona from my private beliefs.”

  Chuckling, Rebecca told her, “It seems a majority of Congress has a problem with that.”

  “I must say, you don’t look like a bodyguard.”

  “I have hidden depths,” Rebecca said enigmatically.

  “Margaret, back to what we were discussing,” Brenna said. “I do all the things most lobbyists do. The one thing I do in addition is I’m my own bimbo, but that’s not unusual either. You know how often pretty women are used in this town. It’s just an extension of the marketing you see on TV every day. As long as power is a men’s club, and as long as men feel their power entitles them to certain benefits, that’s not going to change.”

  Rebecca smirked, “I would paraphrase the line in Shakespeare’s Henry the Sixth, but hanging all the men would be rather counter-productive. I actually like them a lot. I just wish they’d behave better. We need to reorder society a little.”

  “But it’s a tempting thought to hang them all,” Margaret said with a smile, taking a sip of her drink.

  “Something that’s different about MacIntyre as a lobbying slash consulting firm is that our primary interest is in protecting and extending O’Donnell Group.” Brenna laughed, “We have a liberal, pacifist, individual freedom orientation, and I guarantee you won’t see either the Catholic Church or defense contractors on our client list. One of our core beliefs is that religion is a personal matter and the church shouldn’t have any power over people or government in any way.”

  Brenna leaned forward, “And that’s a long way around to explaining why we’re so willing to use sex as a weapon, when it’s an appropriate weapon. Morality doesn’t even enter into the equation. If wine and dine are permissible, if golf junkets and cruises and stuffing campaign coffers are standard business practices, then we’re also going to use women, or sometimes men, the way the other influence peddlers do. We just do it better, with women who are more than just a nice set of boobs and a willing disposition. I have a doctorate. Rebecca has a Masters, as do Cindy and Karen. We can do the job as well as anyone, any man, but we’re also willing to go a step farther if necessary.”

  Margaret nodded, sitting back in her chair and sipping her drink. Looking at Rebecca, she saw the other woman was nodding in agreement with everything Brenna said.

  “God, how did we get to the point where our young people have such a cynical view of our democracy?” Margaret asked rhetorically. Then she answered herself, “Obviously because the cynicism is justified. When I was young, I was an activist, against the Vietnam War, for women’s and civil rights. I came to Washington to try and make a difference, thinking I would be more effective by having more power.”

  She shook her head, “It’s so much worse than I ever imagined. I think a lot of us come here as idealists, whatever that ideal might be, but after a while it becomes a chase for votes and money and fear of losing. We trade away our ideals because everyone tells us we have to in order to be effective.” She sighed. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

  Their meals were served, and the conversation turned away from government and more to personal matters. The women exchanged stories and their own histories. Townsend had been married and widowed young. She had no children, and since coming to Washington had not dated or tried to find a relationship.

  “But I miss it. I like men, and I miss having someone that makes me feel like a woman. Oh, there are a few friends that I can ask to escort me when it’s necessary, but it’s not the same as being with someone you really like, someone who makes you feel special.”

  Brenna cocked her head, “I almost hesitate to ask this, but would you be offended if I tried to play matchmaker? I know someone, someone very discreet, who might be able to fill that need.”

  Margaret froze, staring at her, and then a visible shiver raced through her body. “I … Are you offering me an escort? I mean, like the services you provide?”

  “Not exactly. I just happen to have a friend who I think is attracted to you. I’m not talking about a professional escort.”

  Rebecca sent her a spear thought, Who are you thinking of?

  When Jeremy learned I was working with her, he told me he’d met her a long time ago and he thinks she’s hot.

  “He is a little younger than you are,” Brenna said. “I’m not sure, but I think he’s in his early forties.” Jeremy was actually several years older than Townsend. “He’s very well-mannered, sophisticated, and hot. And single. Interested?”

  They watched Margaret struggle with herself. They could feel her emotions. Brenna’s offer was what she had secretly hoped for when she set up this meeting. Desperately lonely, she had been pulled to Brenna’s blatant sexuality, rationalizing her interest as curiosity. But deep in her subconscious, she hoped that being around Brenna might help to change her own life. She actually had
expected, or maybe hoped, to be offered an escort, a discreet lover who could at least resolve her aching need. But the simple offer of an introduction and the possibility of meeting a man who might be interested in her scared her.

  “Okay, time’s up,” Rebecca announced. “You need someone to make a decision for you? Monday evening, seven o’clock right here. I’ll make the reservations.” She stood and walked to the front, speaking to the maître d’.

  Margaret’s eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline. Brenna clapped her hands together and laughed.

  “She hates indecision. Since you didn’t say no, it means you want to. His name is Jeremy Murphy, six foot three, dark brown hair, pretty eyes, very good looking. He has a couple of degrees. I’m not sure in what. Rebecca probably knows. They work together.”

  “How do you know he’s interested, that he’s willing to meet me?”

  “Because when he found out I was working with you, he told me he thinks you’re hot.”

  “Hot?” she laughed, “I haven’t been called that in at least twenty years. Are you sure he’s seen a recent picture?”

  Rebecca returned to their table, “Reservations are all set in Jeremy’s name. I called and told him. He asked what to wear and I told him to show up with bells on.”

  Margaret laughed. “Can I put you to work on some of my recalcitrant colleagues?”

  Smiling, Rebecca took a sip of her coffee, “Talk to Karen. As long as it doesn’t distract from my primary duties, I’m sort of a Jill of all trades for O’Donnell. They pay me, and I do whatever needs to be done.”

  “And your primary duty is Brenna’s bodyguard?”

  “Well, sort of,” Rebecca said. “I’m actually the leader of her security team. I do the schedules, arrange transportation and itineraries when she travels, all the administrivia.” She made a distasteful face, “All the non-fun stuff that has to be done. But if I was busy or had a date tonight or something, there would have been another woman here, possibly with another one of the team. There are actually several other people scattered around here, inside and out, providing security.”