The Telepathic Clans (The Telepathic Clans Saga, Books 1 and 2)

by Kingsolver, BR

  Rebecca was in the process of undressing. She smiled, “So how did you like your first formal dinner? Just like Masterpiece Theatre, huh? God, you look fabulous.”

  Brenna stepped closer, and Rebecca froze at the look on her face. “You are not my Goddamned servant,” Brenna hissed. “You are my friend. You will tell me any time they schedule you to serve at these type of functions, so I can decline to attend. Do you understand me? I have never felt so humiliated in my whole fucking life.” Brenna lowered her face in her hands and started to sob.

  “Oh, my God,” Rebecca whispered, standing and taking Brenna in her arms, pulling her close. “It’s all right, honey. It’s all right. It’s just part of my training. I don’t feel like a servant, and they don’t treat me like one. All the Protectors take their turns serving at functions, especially the large ones where there are a lot of outsiders. It’s how we provide security.”

  “I will not have you serving me. It made me feel like shit. You may not have a problem with it, but I do. And when those people see you with me, when we’re in a different setting, they’ll still treat you like you’re beneath them. They won’t treat you with the respect you deserve. You’ve waited tables, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Tonight, I felt like I should be helping you, not standing there with my nose in the air deciding which Goddamned canapé I wanted while you balanced that Goddamned tray.”

  “Uh, I wasn’t serving canapés.”

  “You know what I mean. Seamus may be comfortable playing lord of the manor, but I wasn’t raised that way. I’m a Goddamned Democrat, for God’s sake.”

  “Uh, he is the lord of the manor. And I work for him.”

  “You’re trying to be reasonable, aren’t you? Well, cut it out. I’m not in a reasonable mood.”

  “I can see that.” She raised her head, looking past Brenna and seeing Callie standing in the doorway.

  “Rebecca,” Callie said quietly. “Come to my room about five-thirty tomorrow. I think I have a couple of dresses that might fit you.” Rebecca’s eyes went wide with shock. “You’ll be dining with us tomorrow night. And, I think, in the future. I’ll tell Collin you are not to be assigned service duties for inside events.”

  Rebecca stammered, trying to say something, and eventually shut her mouth. Her face was flaming red.

  Callie shrugged, a blank expression on her face. “It’s not because I necessarily agree with you, Brenna, or that I’m giving in to a spoiled brat, because you’re not spoiled and you’re not a brat. I’m just trying to prevent a murder. Mine. I learned long ago that some people have hot buttons I’ll never understand, and I do my best to avoid pushing them. Good night.” And with that, she turned and walked down the hall to her room.

  ~~~

  Chapter 1-10

  Precognition is the most erratic of the Gifts. Often the adept doesn’t recognize they have seen the future until after it has occurred. – Callista O’Donnell

  Brenna spent most of Saturday with her Irish grandparents, getting to know them, telling them about her life and learning about theirs. She learned a lot about her parents, especially her mother and her mother’s early life. She finally broke free in the afternoon and went looking for Callie, finding her sitting in a small windowed room in the east wing, drinking tea and reading a book.

  “Hi, I, I want to thank you, and apologize for being such a pain.”

  “I assume that’s a blanket apology projecting into the future for the next hundred years?” Callie said dryly, setting her book aside. “It would save us both a lot of time to do one apology instead of going through it again and again. Everyone named O’Donnell is a pain. It’s genetic.”

  “No wonder Jared is so sweet. You sucked all the sour out of him and kept it for yourself, didn’t you?”

  Callie threw back her head and laughed, a pure, honest laughter from her core. “God, I like having you around. There are so few people I can honestly be myself with and not have them take offense.”

  “I know I came on a bit strong last night, and thank you for doing something, well, just because you know it’s important to me.”

  Callie watched her wander off, then stared out the window, her book forgotten.

  Just before five-thirty, she sent a spear thread to Rebecca. Do you have any brown, tan, or green heels? Bring them.

  A few minutes later there was a knock on her door, and when she opened it Rebecca stood there, her arms full of shoes.

  “I have two dresses I think will look good on you. I’ve gained a little weight since I bought them, but you’re still young and sleek.” She pulled out a beautiful tan satin evening gown and a green silk charmeuse gown. “I had the tan one made the same time as her mother got the blue one Brenna wore last night. We bought them for a ball in London. I wore the green for the first time to a reception at the American embassy in Paris,” she smiled softly. “Bagged a Count that night.”

  “Do you know what Brenna’s wearing tonight?”

  “I think she’s planning on wearing the blue again. Let me check. Yes, the blue. I think she wants Collin to see her in it.”

  “Then I’ll wear the tan.” She tried on three pair of shoes, and Callie picked the pair she liked best.

  “Jewelry?”

  “Brenna said I can borrow some of hers. God, did you see that necklace she was wearing last night? That thing must be worth a king’s ransom.”

  Callie reflected that what Jack paid for it would have bankrupted a king. She made a note to herself that Brenna needed to get insurance on the contents of that box.

  “Rebecca, do you understand last night? I mean, am I just dense and so ivory tower I can’t relate to the people who work for us, or, well, do you get it?”

  Rebecca sighed. “Not really, and I’ve been thinking about it all day. You know she waited tables for a couple of years in college. Maybe someone she waited on treated her with a lack of respect later.”

  Callie shook her head. “She wasn’t just upset. I spent the night praying no one said anything she might take wrong. Rebecca, she was enraged. I was afraid there might be bodies.”

  “We’re becoming friends, but we really haven’t known each other that long, or spent that much time together. I think she’s wonderful, but I didn’t know she felt so strongly about me,” Rebecca said, looking puzzled.

  Callie had a sudden flash of insight. “She’s a precog. She wasn’t enraged that we use Protectors to serve at events, she was enraged at the idea of you being forced into a subservient position. It has to do with something that hasn’t happened yet, or something you will be to her in the future, not what you are to her now.”

  Callie’s eyes narrowed. “What were you told about Kallen when you started with the Protectors?”

  “You mean about Kallen and you?” Rebecca asked. “If Callie’s in danger, don’t get in his line of fire. Duck, roll, and cover his back.”

  “Rebecca, if you’re ever threatened, don’t get in Brenna’s line of fire.”

  ~~~

  Brenna and Rebecca walked into the large parlor where cocktails were being served before dinner. In spite of her nervousness, Rebecca had never felt so elegant or beautiful in her life. She’d put her hair up in a French twist, and was wearing a diamond collar, earrings and bracelet she’d borrowed from Brenna. She loved the way the fabric slid like a caress across her hips and thighs when she walked. She knew she was almost invisible walking next to Brenna, but was gratified to see several men slide their eyes down her body approvingly.

  Seamus turned and was startled when he saw Rebecca in an evening gown. Brenna walked right up to him, Rebecca drawn along in her wake. The look on Brenna’s face reminded him of Callie at her most defiant, daring him to say anything. “You look very lovely this evening, Rebecca. It’s always so nice to have another pretty young lady at the table.”

  The corners of Brenna’s mouth curved slightly. Stepping close to him, she put her hands on his lapels and stood on her tiptoes, drawing him down to kiss him on the
cheek. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

  He looked down at her upturned face and quietly said, so that only she could hear it, “Those at the top often speak of loyalty as a virtue. Unfortunately, too many forget it’s a two-way street.”

  She smiled at him, her eyes bright. “You do understand. God bless you, Seamus O’Donnell.”

  There was something in his eye, and it took a moment and a drink of his whiskey before he could see clearly again. “May I get you ladies a drink?”

  At dinner, Brenna again was seated between her Irish grandparents, and Rebecca was seated across from her grandfather next to Collin. At one point, her grandmother leaned across and caught Rebecca’s attention. “It’s so nice Brenna has found a friend her age. I think Maureen always missed that.”

  Rebecca disappeared sometime during the after-dinner socializing, and when Brenna stopped by her room later, the sounds coming from inside didn’t invite her to knock. Smiling, she went to her room and went to bed.

  ~~~

  Some things were good about being the clan chief. Foremost among them was that occasionally he was able to order breakfast in bed, without dour looks from Mrs. Doyle or recriminations from the kitchen staff. Callie was the only other person able to get away with it. Of course, he wasn’t so thoughtless that he actually made those girls bring it to him.

  He slipped on a robe and slippers and teleported to just outside the kitchen door. Mrs. Doyle had strict rules about teleporting into her kitchen. He went inside, picked up the tray waiting for him, kissed Mrs. Doyle on the cheek, and teleported back to his room.

  Arriving, he stood there a moment holding the tray. Cindy was sitting in bed, the covers pulled over her lap. Her strawberry blonde mane hanging about her shoulders, she was bare from the waist up, her perfect body a feast for his eyes. He never lost his sense of wonder that this beautiful young woman, one who could have any man she wanted, insisted she loved him, and by her actions made him believe it.

  When Gertrude died, he had been among the walking dead for almost three years. He felt as though he had lost his purpose, certainly his will to live. She came to him one night, almost as young as Brenna was now, refused to get out when he ordered her, and using every succubus trick in the book, Glam, Influence, and enough pheromones to bring a dead man back to life, seduced him.

  She was there when he woke up, and seduced him again. The third time he woke, finding her there waiting for him, they came to an agreement. He would get up and resume his life. In return, while she wouldn’t go away and leave him alone, she wouldn’t love him to death. That had been twelve years ago.

  “I brought your breakfast, my darling.” She smiled at him, and his heart, as it always did, melted.

  ~~~

  Later that morning, Seamus asked Brenna to come to his study.

  “I’d like to talk to you about your Gifts, and also about your mother’s parents. They want you to visit them in Ireland. I told them you probably wouldn’t be able to come for any extended period until the summer, but you should talk to them about it. They’ll be coming back at Thanksgiving and staying until after New Year, so you’ll get a chance to spend some time with them.”

  One corner of his mouth turned up in a hint of a smile. “I know you’ve been cautioned about experimenting with your Gifts. I’d like to take some time this morning and show you how to use two of them, and give you some practice exercises. Are you up for it?”

  Brenna almost started bouncing in her seat. Rather than a dull lecture and people telling her what not to do, she was actually going to learn something. With a smile, she said, “I’m definitely up for it.”

  “All right. I’m going to show you two of the rare Gifts we have in common. I can’t actually demonstrate the O’Donnell Dominant Gift. Once, a long time ago, it was taught using people, a reprehensible and barbaric practice. My father showed it to me using animals, but I expect you would object to that when you saw the results. It’s not a pretty, or elegant, or soft Gift. It’s as hard and brutal as anything one person can do to another. But you need to know how it is used. You may never meet another Dominant who wishes you harm, but if you do it will be your life or his. But we’ll do that another time.”

  “If that happens, can’t I just use my trap?” she asked.

  “What trap?”

  Brenna looked unsure of herself. “The trap I have on my tenth level. You know about the O’Neill Gift, right?” Seamus nodded. “When my mother taught me to build my shields, and showed me where in my mind to draw the partitions, she told me most people only have nine levels. So level ten is empty, a trap, for people who might want to hurt me.”

  With a frown of concentration, Seamus asked, “Would you mind showing me this ‘trap’?”

  “No, come on in,” Brenna said, unsure of her ability to actually make it work.

  She led him into her mind, down to the ninth level. Now, you have to remember I was taught this when I was between six and eight years old, so I’m not clear on all the details. She said when someone tries to capture my mind, I should let them in to the ninth level, and let them look around, and they’ll get confused and lost, and when they wander too far, and cross over into the tenth level, then to spring the trap.

  Brenna closed the shields between her ninth and tenth levels, and Seamus found himself in a part of her mind that was completely empty, no thoughts, no memories. Trapped between two triple-strength O’Neill shields, he was cut off from his body and his brain. She had trapped him, he couldn’t break them because he couldn’t reach the place in his mind to trigger his Talent. A twinge of panic started to creep in.

  Brenna, would you please let me out now?

  She raised the shields and allowed him to withdraw to his own mind. He was shaking and sweating.

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  He sat back, trying to get his emotions under control. In a shaky voice he said, “Try to remember exactly what she told you about this ‘trap’. Exactly.”

  Brenna looked down, a bit of color in her face. “She told me her grandmother taught her to build her shields, just like she was teaching me. And this was a special secret. She called it an O’Donnell trap, and I asked her if that’s how she trapped daddy, and she laughed and said no, she used a different trap for daddy.”

  “An O’Donnell trap, her grandmother,” Seamus took a deep breath. “Delilah O’Neill was as mean as a junkyard dog, as sweet as candy, as beautiful as a sunset. She had a long memory and a love of history she passed on to your mother. You know, the O’Neills and O’Donnells were rivals, enemies, in northern Ireland for generations. About the only thing they ever agreed on was that they hated the English.” He chuckled, his color coming back, and his body relaxed. “An O’Donnell trap. It figures.”

  He shook his head. “Where were we?” The coffee pot floated up off the tray, filled her cup, and set down again. She stared at it with her mouth open.

  “Come into my mind. These Gifts are found at the seventh level. What would that be for you?”

  She looked at the place he showed her. “Twelfth? No, thirteenth.” She opened her shields, showing him the place in her mind.

  You draw on the Talent here. It’s not a trigger, like so many, but a pull. You take the power, and extend it out to the object you wish to manipulate, and touch it. Then you wrap the power around it, envelop it, you can’t hold it with a touch, and then you either pull it, lift it, or push it.

  Wide eyed, Brenna watched the pen he was manipulating float back and forth, up and down.

  “Now you try it, very, very slowly. We’re not in a hurry, and it’s not a race. We want the pen to just float around a bit, not embed itself in the wall, or one of us, okay?”

  She was amazed, both by what she was able to do, but also by what a good teacher Seamus was, patient and encouraging. After about half an hour, she could float the pen anywhere she wanted, and even spin it in the air.

  “All right. Practice that, and only with small, l
ight objects that won’t break. Different objects, different sizes and shapes. You’ll find that a pen and a Tupperware bowl don’t respond the same way.”

  He disappeared. She stared at his empty chair, then looked around the room. “I’m behind you.” She whipped around and saw him standing between her and the door. He disappeared again, and when she whipped back around, he was sitting in his chair again.

  “Show me.”

  He did. “You have to know exactly – exactly, Brenna – where you are going to reappear. If you re-materialize inside a solid object, you will die. We don’t negate the laws of physics, we just bend them a little. Two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. You must be able to visualize your landing place as clearly as possible. I advise landing a couple of inches too high until you’ve got it down. It may not be as graceful looking, but it’s a hell of a lot safer. Even in a place you think may be safe, someone might have moved into that space. Materializing in a space occupied by another person would be terribly messy, and probably very painful for both of you.”

  She thought about it for a bit, then disappeared, reappearing sitting in the chair on her right. His eyebrows shot up. She then transported herself back to her original chair. “I think I’ve got it. You’re right, it doesn’t leave any margin for error, does it?”

  His throat was tight, and he had to take a gulp of tea before he could speak. “I wasn’t planning on you trying that right now,” he said in a strangled voice. “I was going to show you how to teleport an object, not yourself.”

  She looked contrite. “Oh.”

  He showed her how to teleport the pen to different places around the room. “Same set of exercises. Go slow, Brenna. It takes years to develop fine control, and range is something that will come with age. Normally, the first lessons in teleportation involve sending objects, not people. I’m surprised you brought your clothes with you.”

  She colored, “You mean, I could teleport without my clothes?”

  Seamus chuckled, “You have to differentiate what you want to take. Obviously, you subconsciously considered taking your clothes, but you didn’t take the chair. You need to consciously decide what you’re going to take. For instance, if you wanted to take Collin for a picnic, you need to include Collin, the picnic basket, but also Collin’s clothes as well as your own.