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

by BR Kingsolver

  “I’m going to take pity on you, and help with the new arrivals. I’ll put Jamie on the deliveries. But you, Miss Heir, are not going to wander around and supervise and let us do all the work. If I’m going to suffer, you’re going to suffer. I’ll kick your ass if I find you sloughing off. Understand me? And all the major disputes are yours. I’m new to the family, just a baby as it were, and I don’t have your authority. Put on your track shoes, Sis, this ain’t gonna be pretty.”

  Rebecca was right. Brenna never would have imagined what issues would emerge from the simple act of arriving, being assigned a room, and transporting luggage.

  “No, Marilyn, there isn’t a room available on the other side of the house. I’m afraid you’ll just have to go out on the front porch if you want to see that view of the mountains at sunrise,” Brenna tried to be pleasant, but the urge to strangle her distant cousin was growing. “Yes, I know it’s cold at that time of the morning. Perhaps you can find a handsome young cryokinetic to accompany you.”

  By the second day of attempting to deal with her new duties, Brenna had locked down her shields and was filtering spear threads. She was only accepting contact from a select few people. “You’re an evil, evil woman,” she pronounced when she ran into Callie in the hall.

  With a gay laugh, Callie kissed her cheek, “No one appreciates their mentor until they’re gone.”

  Narrowing her gaze, Brenna told her, “That could be far sooner than you expect.”

  Callie practically skipped off down the hall, her laughter echoing in Brenna’s head for hours afterward.

  Brenna touched base with Cindy later to make sure everything was getting covered. The pretty redhead brushed her hair back out of her face. “Next year, we’re asking everyone if they have special dietary requirements when they call for reservations. And if they say yes, we’ll tell them they’re too late and we’re already full. Brenna, if I disappear, Mrs. Doyle is the most likely suspect. I swear she’s going to cut me up and stick me in a stew.”

  The following morning, Margaret Townsend walked into the dining room while Brenna was grabbing coffee and a quick bite. Brenna’s team was already clamoring for her attention, their pleas causing chaos in her mind.

  Brenna hadn’t seen the congresswoman since she’d been back at the estate. “Margaret. How are you doing? I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you. I’ve just been swamped trying to get ready for the ball.”

  “It’s Maggie now,” Townsend smiled. “That’s what Jeremy calls me, what my friends called me when I was young, and I like it. It kind of provides a break from my old life. But my, you sure look frazzled. Is there anything I can do to help? Everyone’s so busy and I feel like a malingerer.”

  “It’s just trying to get people settled. You never saw such a bunch of prima donnas in your life. And of course I have to be diplomatic, instead of strangling them for thinking their bizarre requests are perfectly reasonable.”

  “Bigger prima donnas than Congress?” Maggie said sweetly.

  Brenna stopped, staring at her friend as an idea developed. “Would you hate me if I put you to fielding complaints about their rooms?”

  “Not at all, my dear. In many ways, it would be easier for me than for you. After all, I don’t have any authority to solve their problems,” Maggie said with a smile.

  She installed Maggie at a desk in the foyer with a Protector. At least two of her relatives had come close to assaulting her, and she knew Jeremy would never forgive her if Maggie was hurt. A sign on the desk proclaimed, ACCOMODATION ASSISTANCE.

  “By the way,” Maggie said as Brenna was about to leave to put out a different fire, “thank you for the gown. It’s lovely.”

  “Clothes are here? They were delivered?”

  “Yesterday afternoon. I think they put your packages in your room.”

  Brenna had fallen into bed at one o’clock in the morning so beat that she hadn’t even brushed her teeth. She hadn’t thought about checking on delivery of her clothes.

  Rebecca, our stuff from Alice was delivered yesterday. I’m taking a break for an hour.

  Yeah, I know, Rebecca answered, I was so tired I haven’t even looked at them yet.

  Take a break, bring your dress and meet me in my room.

  Her packages were piled next to the new spiral staircase. She searched through them and found the box with her Solstice dress. She found the matching hose and shoes and went to take a shower. Looking at herself in the mirror while the water warmed, she realized she needed a trim.

  Rachel? I know it’s late, but can you fit me in for a wax, manicure and pedicure before the ball?

  Brenna? Do you mind a one a.m. appointment?

  Seriously?

  Yes, I’ll do it, but that’s the only time I have.

  Absolutely. Thanks.

  Rebecca was standing by the bed pulling her dress out of a box when Brenna emerged from the shower with her hair wrapped in a bath blanket. She hadn’t seen Rebecca’s gown, and she had shown hers to no one but Alice. It made her nervous, and she at least wanted Rebecca’s opinion before she ventured out in public wearing it.

  “Let me see,” Brenna prompted.

  “Hang on,” Rebecca said, starting to strip. “Go back in the bathroom. I want to see myself first.”

  Brenna went back and took a blow dryer to her hair. Fifteen minutes later, Rebecca called her.

  “Do you think it’s too much? Do you think Carlos will like it? Do you think he’ll want to be seen with me?”

  Rebecca’s dress was stunning. The top was sheer pale-blue silk charmeuse, basically a triangular panel from a thin ring of fabric around her neck falling loosely to her waist, open sided, sleeveless, backless. Her firm high breasts were clearly visible through the thin fabric. The skirt was a darker blue satin sheath with a front slit to mid-thigh. Its simple lines conveyed an incredible elegance on her tall, slender frame.

  “Well, Rebecca, I’ll tell you,” Brenna said with a bit of a frown. “It’s absolutely, elegantly stunning. You look like a runway model. As for Carlos? If he doesn’t want you, every other man in the place will.” She broke into a smile and winked. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

  Rebecca went to Brenna’s closet and pulled out the three-way mirror tucked just inside the door. “You don’t think it’s too much? It does look just the way I hoped. I’ve just never worn anything quite this revealing before.”

  “With your breasts, it’s perfect. And I happen to know the top is similar to the one Cindy’s going to be wearing.”

  “Oh no.” Rebecca was horrified.

  “Similar in effect, not the same. But her gown is green. The top’s sort of loose like yours, but with sleeves and a back. They don’t look at all the same. Well, except for the boobs, but hers sag more than yours.”

  “There’s a reason for that, they’re twice as large,” Rebecca retorted, still looking at herself in the mirror. “We’ve got work to do. Hurry up, let me see what you’re wearing.”

  Brenna sat down and put on the pale beige heels, then took her hair out of the towel and shook it out.

  “That’s an unusual color for you,” Rebecca commented.

  “Turn around,” Brenna ordered. She pulled the dress out of the box and slipped it over her head. Shaking out the beige fabric and arranging the sleeves, she looked at herself in the mirror. She turned back and forth a couple of times, admiring how the fabric flowed around her.

  The dress was a loose, sheer, silk charmeuse kaftan falling from her neck to the floor. It had three times as much fabric as a normal dress, but the fabric was so thin and light that it felt weightless. It wasn’t lined. With long bell sleeves, it billowed and flowed with her movements, creating an illusion of floating when she walked. But there was no denying that while it covered her from neck to feet, she was essentially nude. Her nipples and patch were easily visible. It was far more daring than the black lace number she had worn in New York.

  “Ok, turn around.”

  Rebecca stared with her mou
th open. “That’s all? Nothing under it?”

  Brenna shook her head. She walked across the room, turned and walked back. “Too much? Alice included some panties in case I chickened out, but there’s no bra.”

  “Walk across the room and back again.”

  Brenna did as she directed.

  “It’s a Goddess gown, Brenna. No one but you and the Goddess would have the balls to wear it. It’s beautiful. I just hope Callie doesn’t have a stroke when she sees it.”

  “You don’t think Seamus will blow a gasket?”

  Rebecca snorted, “He’s a man. He might make some disapproving noises, but he’ll love it. You’re more likely to be murdered by a hoard of jealous females. You need a wax job, though. Your bush is a little thick.”

  “I have an appointment with Rachel at one.”

  “Hey, you can’t take time in the middle of the day to be pampered. It’s going to be crazy today. I have half a dozen people beating on my shields for attention already.”

  “Lucky you, I have a full dozen. One o’clock in the morning. It’s the only time either of us has.”

  After changing back to jeans and sweaters, they went downstairs to face the day. Brenna hoped Collin made it in before the ball. He had told her he would try. It really wouldn’t be right if he couldn’t be there. The thought made her sad.

  ~~~

  The day before the ball, Brenna was in the foyer trying to sort out the recent arrivals when she heard a voice behind her, “Jesus, this is more chaotic than a war zone.”

  “Collin!” She ran across the room and leapt into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she kissed him so fiercely he thought he might black out.

  “Friend of yours?” Carlos asked. “Does she have a sister?”

  Rebecca. They’re home.

  Rebecca tentatively crept into the foyer, her demeanor and the look on her face totally at odds with the confident, strutting taskmaster people had seen the past few days.

  “Carlos?”

  He strode across the foyer and gathered her into his arms.

  Rebecca dissolved into tears, “Oh my God. I was so afraid. Are you all right? I was afraid I’d never see you again.”

  “Mi amor, nothing could have kept me away. Oh, I missed you.”

  “How long can you stay?” Brenna asked Collin.

  “I’m home through Christmas,” he said. “We’ll be sending the full contingent down then. I wanted to consult with Seamus and Rory, and help Jeremy with the logistics.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Brenna resumed kissing him. The people in the foyer watched them, bemused.

  That evening, Brenna led Callie to the foyer. “I want you to see this so you can bitch me out now instead of later. Callie, I’ve had it with these people. It’s six o’clock in the evening, I’m beat, and I have friends coming for a party this evening. If anyone shows up tonight, they’re on their own.”

  The desk where Maggie had fielded complaints for the past few days had a sign and a small stack of three-by-five index cards sitting next to photocopied maps of the house, guest wings and directions to the hotel. The sign said, “YOU’RE LATE. LOOK THROUGH THE CARDS FOR YOUR ROOM ASSIGNMENT. TAKE A MAP.”

  Callie started laughing. “Oh, Brenna, I owe you an apology. You do learn quickly. You probably didn’t notice last year, but there was a setup remarkably like this sitting here then.” She folded Brenna in a hug. “Go get cleaned up for your party. And thanks, I never would have survived without you and Cindy.”

  ~~~

  “I have to hand it to you,” Rebecca clinked her glass against Brenna’s, “this does make a good setup for a party. We even have two bathrooms.”

  Brenna looked around at her friends milling around, laughing and drinking. People freely circulated up and down the spiral staircase. To make sure people didn’t get stuck in one place, they had put all the booze on Brenna’s sideboard, but the food was downstairs in Rebecca’s room. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

  Siobhan walked in. She’d been in Brazil since shortly after Thanksgiving.

  “Collin wasn’t sure you would be able to get a flight back in time for the ball,” Brenna said when she greeted her friend.

  “Oh, yeah, I made it. I’d have ridden my broomstick if I’d had to,” Siobhan laughed.

  ~~~

  “Rebecca, what happened with you and Carlos?” Brenna asked. “I mean, I didn’t think you were even attracted to him, and then all of a sudden, it’s ‘I’ll take him off your hands, no problem’, then wham, you’re soul mates, in love forever.”

  “Do you remember Samhain?” Rebecca asked.

  “I’ll never forget it. Absolutely the wildest night of my life.”

  “When I saw visions, he was in them, over and over in different places, different times of my life. And I kept thinking about it, and after a while, I began to wonder if maybe it meant something. And then I started daydreaming about him, that maybe he was the one. I thought I was being stupid, but I knew if I didn’t at least check him out, I’d kick myself.”

  A soft smile settled on Rebecca’s face. “So when I had a chance, I threw myself at him. And the first time he kissed me, I knew I was lost. No one has ever kissed me like that. No one has ever made me feel that way. I was so ready to have him love me. Brenna, you know I’ve been hoping to find someone to love me forever. So when we made love, I just opened myself to him, hoping, and our souls merged, and that was it.”

  “Wow. That’s really a romantic story. Like a fairy tale, only true. Rebecca, I’m so happy for you.”

  “Yeah, I got lucky,” Rebecca said. Her grin grew. “I can legitimately tell people that the path to true love lies in taking a succubus’ castoffs.”

  “Oh, please,” Brenna chuckled.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER 16

  At that dark season of the year, when all nature seems dead, what should one do to ensure that the seeds in the ground shall quicken and new growth appear? What but perform the sexual, generative act oneself. Thus, in earliest times, and among many preliterate peoples today, we often find the sexual act as the cumulating point of a ceremony of rebirth, a ceremony usually performed either at midwinter, on the day following the shortest day, or (where less astronomical knowledge exists) at the moment when winter turns into spring. Even in modern times, in the remoter parts of Europe, peasants would go to the fields to copulate with each other, in order to ensure a good crop. – Gordon Rattray Taylor

  Winter Solstice, or Alban Arthan in the old Gaelic tradition, was celebrated by decorating the house with greens, especially mistletoe and holly, but also with evergreen branches as a promise that nature will be green again in springtime when life returns to the land. Traditionally, it was a festival of rebirth. In Newgrange, Ireland, a Neolithic passage tomb and temple structure are said to be over two thousand years old. The sun shining through a window the morning after Solstice symbolizes the insertion of a ray of light by the Sun God into the womb of Mother Earth to bring new life in the spring.

  As celebrated in the O’Donnell household, the Solstice Ball, occurring on The Longest Night, is a formal ball in the nineteenth century tradition. The women dress in formal evening gowns, the men in white tie and tails. The symbolism of the Sun God impregnating Mother Earth is a major feature of the ball.

  Although the ball itself is the height of decorum, any woman can approach any man and invite him to escort her up the grand staircase in view of the whole room. A section of bedrooms on the second floor is left empty for anyone’s usage.

  The featured attractions at these events were the succubi, the priestesses on earth of the Goddess and symbols of sexuality and fertility. Their beauty, glamour, and freely-given favors were a symbol to release inhibitions and a benediction on the actions of the other women.

  The previous year a record five succubi had attended. This year there were nine. With the age range from twenty-two to one hundred one, there was a role model for almost every woman who would attend.
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  While the succubi had ordered their gowns around a central theme, none had allowed the others to see them. Brenna had seen Cindy’s on a dress form at Alice’s shop and felt a slight sense of guilt about it.

  Brenna told Collin to dress in his room and come to escort her when she called. She took a long bubble bath then stood in front of the mirror studying her nude body. Rachel had come by an hour earlier and pulled her thick mane into a complicated woven updo. The wax job had left her with a two-inch wide landing strip. She rouged her pink nipples with a rust color to match her lipstick.

  When standing still, she was obviously and blatantly nude beneath the sheer fabric. When she walked or turned, the swirling, billowing charmeuse blurred her assets. She’d been nude in front of a large number of people before at Beltane and Samhain celebrations. But then the light was dim, she’d been drinking, and everyone else was nude. It was going to be quite different to walk into a lighted ballroom with everyone’s eyes on her, still sober, at the beginning of the evening.

  At least she didn’t have to start the ceremony this year. Seamus would offer the benediction, and then the succubi would make their entrance, escorted down the grand staircase. The entry fashion show had been Victoria’s idea, and everyone had loved it. They had haggled a bit over entry order, with many pushing for Brenna to take precedence because she was heir.

  Brenna had pushed for age order, saying it was a sign of respect to let the older ladies go first.

  In the end, they had drawn straws. Brenna’s luck was running true to form. Hers was the shortest straw. She pointed out that Cindy still had to go before her, since Seamus had to give the benediction first. Reluctantly, Cindy agreed.

  As ready as she was going to get, Brenna called Collin. He knocked on the door a minute later, and she opened it, standing with the room light behind her. He was so handsome in his formal attire. He’d tried to slick down his unruly light brown hair, but whatever he used was losing the fight. Six feet two, with broad shoulders, slim waist and a butt that made her salivate, tonight he was elegantly gorgeous, and his bright blue eyes lit up when he saw her.