The Telepathic Clans Omnibus

by B R Kingsolver

  They chatted for a while, then Michael gave her a tour, explaining their operations and the businesses they owned. When she prepared to leave, he took her hands and looked down at her with a slight smile on his face.

  “Brenna, don’t ever doubt that I’m behind you. I loved Maureen, and it gave me no pleasure to assume the role of heir when she died. You are so much like her, and I don’t just mean the way you look. If you ever decide to take Andrew out, let me know. I’ll attend to the matter personally.”

  On the elevator, she turned to Morrighan. “I can’t believe he made that offer so blatantly.”

  Morrighan shook her head. “If it wasn’t for Father, he’d have done it already. He hates Andrew, and Michael has the power to do it. Andrew has five Gifts, Michael has twelve, not to mention being about ten times as smart as Andrew.”

  As they made their way to the car, Morrighan put a hand on Brenna’s arm and stopped her. “When Michael said he loved Maureen, he didn’t mean brotherly love. He was deeply in love with her from the time they were children. If he wasn’t her half-brother, I’m sure he would have tried to court her. After she married Jack, he and Michael became very close friends. Don’t worry about his loyalty. He’ll back you every step of the way.”

  ~~~

  Back in London, Brenna confirmed with Nigel that her adventure with Margriet was set.

  “Margriet is expecting you,” Nigel informed her and Irina. “She said the response to her advertised special was over-subscribed.” He chuckled. “I think she used the pictures you sent me, and I must say, the two of you are spectacular dressed only in corsets.”

  Brenna and Irina both blushed.

  Amsterdam was a delight. The weather was wonderful, the people friendly, the architecture amazing, and the gardens incredible. Irina was in heaven walking down the streets hearing dozens of languages in that most cosmopolitan of cities. They had only scheduled three days there as a halfway point between London and Paris, and Brenna wished she’d set it for longer.

  Their second night in Amsterdam, Brenna and Irina went to work for Margriet. Jeremy and a team accompanied them to her stately mansion in one of the better parts of the city, well away from the red light district. Antonia took Rebecca out for what she called ‘more respectable and elegant entertainment’.

  Margriet was a hundred year old succubus, blonde haired and large breasted, dressed in an expensive evening gown. Her front reception room looked as elegant as the parlors at the manor houses they had seen. Indeed, the wallpaper was a copy of that in Brenna’s bedroom in West Virginia, though made of nylon instead of silk and not hand painted. The rooms where they would entertain clients were tastefully decorated, with a queen-sized bed, small table with a pretty tablecloth and nice chairs, and a small bath. There was nothing Brenna would call tawdry or dingy.

  Brenna’s outfit was a black corset with white piping, matching garter belt and panties, with black lace-topped hose and four inch stilettos. The corset was from Alice’s shop and fit her like a glove. Irina wore a similar outfit in red.

  Margriet explained she had set up two rooms side by side for each of them. They each had eight appointments and the men would be shown in on schedule every hour. They had about forty-five minutes to seduce and drain each one. Brenna’s clients all spoke English, none of Irina’s did. When they finished with each client, they would push a button by the door, then go to the room next door to get ready for the next customer.

  “We don’t have to completely drain them. It doesn’t work as well with norms, but we found a trick that allows us to reduce the drain to about half their reserves,” Brenna told Margriet.

  “I’d like to learn that trick, but these men expect some drain. In fact, it was part of my marketing. But if you can leave them awake, the tips will be better,” Margriet answered.

  “Tips?” Irina asked.

  “Marketing the drain?” Brenna asked.

  Smiling, Margriet showed them the color brochure she had sent out to select customers. “These are all men who have purchased specials from me before. I’m sure they were skeptical about this, but as one of them said, my promises have always proven good before.”

  The brochure showed Brenna and Irina in their corsets and had their measurements and ages, but the headline and descriptions stopped them cold.

  SUCCUBUS

  For one night only, the legend is available

  The Succubus is the ultimate in providing intimate pleasure

  When a Succubus rides you to climax

  It will be an experience such as you have never known before

  Few men ever have the chance to savor this legendary delight

  You can be one of them

  The other side of the brochure with the details explained a succubus was not a demon or a minion of the devil, but a woman, trained in the sensual arts in an ancient tradition. It further said that the succubus experience was so intense many men reported feeling as though their life energy had been drained, but there was no danger to anyone.

  Brenna stared at her, “You didn’t!”

  “I did,” Margriet smiled.

  “But … but …”

  “Brenna, these are wealthy, educated men. They don’t believe in succubi, but they are curious enough to check it out, and wealthy enough to indulge their curiosity.”

  “So what was that about tips?” Irina asked.

  “Although they pay for your time, which I will split evenly with you, they may also give you a tip. Normally, the tip might range from twenty to one hundred percent of the fee.”

  Brenna could almost see the cash register totaling up sums in Irina’s head.

  “Use your Glam, use your pheromones. You’re selling a fantasy and you’ve got less than an hour. Take them quickly but make it seem slow,” Margriet said with a smile. “I assumed you didn’t want to use your real names, so I’ll be calling you Brandy and Iris.”

  Brenna went into her room and sat on the bed to wait. Her stomach felt a bit queasy and her hands were sweaty. She wondered what she should say to the men who would come to her.

  The door opened and Margriet showed a tall dark haired man in an expensive suit into the room. Brenna kicked her Glam up to high. “This is Brandy,” Margriet said. She closed the door and left them together.

  Brenna stood. “I’m so glad you came to see me,” she purred, sending a burst of pheromones into the air of the small room. “Do you have a preference, straight or special?”

  His eyes were fixed on her as she stalked toward him. Stepping into him, her breasts pressed against him, she reached up and started pulling on his tie. “Why don’t you get a little more comfortable so we can get to know each other, very, very well,” she said in a slow sultry voice.

  She took a short step back, giving him some room, dribbling pheromones at a fairly high rate. He quickly began to undress, and when he was finished, she turned and walked back to the bed. Stopping and keeping her legs straight, she bent at the waist and pulled her panties down, skimming them down her legs. From practicing in front of a mirror, she knew that her bottom looked like a perfect valentine from that angle. What she was selling winked at him from its center. She straightened and turned to face him. Slowly, she began to undo the front closures on the corset. When she was finished, she dropped it on the carpeted floor and lay back on the bed, her legs spread, watching him.

  He joined her on the bed and half an hour later she drained him, flipping the switch on the energy loop immediately when his energy started to flow into her.

  She and the other succubi had discovered that the loop, while working almost perfectly with another telepath, was far from perfect with a norm. They just weren’t able to hold the energy she returned and it cycled back into her again. It did cut down on the drain and the men were left awake but extremely lethargic. However, they did feel the Glow and the cycling energy extended their climax and heightened their pleasure.

  He rolled off her and stared at her with drooping eyes. “That was the mos
t incredible thing I have ever experienced. My God, you really are something special.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, sweetie. I know I did,” she purred, leaning forward and kissing him.

  She began to get up and retrieve her clothes. “Wait,” he called, “where are my pants?” He made an effort to rise.

  Brenna retrieved them and handed them to him. He fumbled out a wallet, opened it and pulled out a sheaf of bills. Handing them to her, he collapsed back on the bed. “Thank you,” he said.

  She gathered her corset and panties and went to the door. Pushing the button as Margriet had instructed, she stepped out into the empty hallway and went into the room next door. Cleaning herself in the bathroom, she dressed and glanced at the clock. She had five minutes until the next customer. The tip was ten thousand euros.

  When Margriet showed the next man in, Brenna gave him a burst of pheromones and purred, “I’m so glad you came to see me. Do you have a preference, straight or special?”

  It was like an assembly line and by the end of the night her memories were clear for only three of the men. She remembered the first, and a very large German man who reminded her of Seamus. He was a tender lover and tipped her twenty-five thousand euros. The other was a small, overweight man with a bad comb-over and glasses. It had been very difficult to get him hard, even bathing him in pheromones, and it took him forever to climax. She felt like she earned her money on him, and was so frustrated and irritated by the time he finished that she didn’t care about a tip and drained him completely.

  Sitting in Margriet’s parlor with Jeremy and Irina drinking a glass of wine, Margriet handed each of them one hundred thousand euros and thanked them. “If you ever feel like doing this again, let me know, it’s been very profitable.” She smiled, “Brenna, your mother used to use me as a broker to set up dates for her in Amsterdam. I’d be happy to provide the same service for you. Let me know if you’re interested.”

  In the car on the way back to the hotel, she asked Irina, “How did you do on tips?”

  “Fifty thousand. God, Brenna, I can’t believe it; I just earned my yearly salary in one night! How were your tips?”

  “Sixty-five thousand. Two guys were very generous.” She paused, studying her friend. “How do you feel about it?”

  “Well, it’s kind of boring after a while, but I could see doing it once a month. Hell, look at the money!”

  Brenna reflected that she didn’t really need the money.

  “Other than bored, how do you feel?” Brenna asked. “Are you okay?”

  Irina thought about the question, then said, “I don’t feel smutty or dirty. I guess I don’t feel any different. It was a lot more comfortable than doing a bar crawl. How about you?”

  “I feel wonderful -- the Glow.” Brenna tried to decide if her conscience or her soul felt anything. “I don’t feel guilty. I don’t feel dirty or cheap. But you know, if I had a choice, I think I’d rather have her set me up on a date. If I could spend the night with a nice man, have a nice dinner and a pleasant conversation, I’d be fine with the Glow from one man.”

  Irina nodded, “Yeah, that would be nice. I haven’t been out on a real date in a long time. You know, I like having sex with telepaths, but other than Jared, they never take me anywhere except to bed.”

  When they got back to the hotel, the Protectors there reported Antonia had returned with a man but Rebecca was spending the night at another hotel. They would retrieve her in the morning.

  It was five o’clock and Brenna fell into bed. Waking at nine, she ordered a room service breakfast and sent a spear to Antonia who soon joined her.

  “So I guess you and Rebecca did okay last night?”

  “Oh yes, we ran into some old friends of mine. A rather more elegant setting than where you spent the night, I expect.”

  Brenna had seen them dressing and going out to dinner before she and Irina left for the brothel. Evening dresses and updo hair aiming for, as Antonia put it, ‘a higher class of men.’

  “So Rebecca decided not to bring him back here?”

  Antonia smiled, “His rooms were quite a bit fancier than these.”

  Brenna looked around at the sumptuous suite in the five-star hotel they were staying in. “So he has a palace or something?”

  Antonia laughed, “Yes, but not here in Amsterdam. He’s in the penthouse of the one hotel in the city that is more exclusive than this one. She had a very successful hunt last night and bagged a dukeling.”

  “Huh? A dukeling? What’s that?”

  “The younger son of the Grand Duke of Lichtenstein, who is partying hard here in Amsterdam. The man who holds his purse strings is an old friend of mine. He’s currently sleeping in my room as a matter of fact. We’ll take him home later and retrieve Rebecca.”

  Brenna rousted a sleepy Irina around noon. Come on sleepyhead, we need to retrieve Rebecca and meet her dukeling.

  Does he quack?

 

  Did anyone ever tell you that you’re disgustingly cheerful in the morning?

  It’s not morning, Irina. It’s noon.

  Too early.

  Okay, we’ll just leave you here and you can catch up to us in Paris.

  I’m coming. Do you have coffee?

  A couple of men showed up and bundled Antonia’s date into a limo. Brenna and her friends followed them and found Rebecca waiting for them in the lobby of the hotel.

  “Where’s the dukeling?” Irina asked. “The only reason I got out of bed was to meet him.”

  Rebecca chuckled, “You’d be good for each other. He’s still in bed. Of course, to be fair, I think I wore him out. And for good measure I drained him a little bit in your honor.”

  “You drained him?” Brenna asked, mockly aghast. “God, talk about greedy.”

  Rebecca laughed out loud. “Just a little bit. He was all hopped up on coke and a bit too enthusiastic so I figured I’d even things out a bit, cool him off and give me a little more oomph.”

  ~~~

  Chapter 2-19

  Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't. - Margaret Thatcher

  The chateau Rebecca had rented in Paris was quite nice, but looking around, Brenna could tell it was built fairly recently. Some of the décor screamed nouveau riche as compared to the nineteenth century elegance she had seen so much of since rejoining the Clan. It was on the southern edge of the city so they had to drive in to the city and find parking. They couldn’t even take the subway because of security concerns.

  The first day they just wandered around the city, had lunch in a sidewalk café and dinner at one of the finest restaurants in town. Antonia knew the city well and in fact kept a flat there. She was in her element, and at the restaurant seemed in heaven.

  “Forgive me, but more than a month of eating English and Irish food …” Antonia shook her head. “If Dante had ever been to England the food would have rated one of his levels of hell.”

  “Do succubi gain weight?” Brenna asked, “Because if they do, you’ll have to bury me in a piano crate if we eat like this every night.”

  After dinner, they strolled along the Seine, viewed the Louvre and Eiffel Tower and the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Paris at night was a wonder and the young women were very impressed.

  The next evening, Antonia ordered them to dress in their best cocktail dresses and took them out to a nightclub. The clientele was decidedly upper class and in their thirties or older. The music wasn’t rock and roll either, but there was dancing.

  “This place is rather unique,” Brenna observed.

  “Yes, it’s a very exclusive club. I haven’t found anything like it in the States.”

  “There are a lot of telepaths in here.”

  Antonia laughed, “Brenna, it’s a telepath club!”

  Brenna scanned the crowd and was stunned to discover almost all the patrons were telepaths. She also felt at least a dozen succubi. The maître’d showed them to a table and seated them. He
looked at Brenna and Irina, then at Antonia with a rather stern look and Antonia nodded, “They’ll behave.”

  Startled, Brenna turned to Antonia as the host left, “What?”

  “You’ll notice the ages of people here?”

  Brenna looked around then grasped the issue. She had initially thought the crowd was thirty-plus in age, but if they were all telepaths, that meant the youngest were in their forties or fifties.

  “People your age usually frequent the same type of clubs you normally go to. The only people your age here will probably be the dates of older men and women, and perhaps a few succubi. Discretion is important. No pheromone bursts. It’s considered rude. At most, you might use a bit of leakage directed at someone who’s receptive. No Influence. That would also be considered rude. But notice my Glam?”

  Antonia was wearing a medium Glam, and the two young succubi immediately increased theirs to match hers. “You do want to stand out, after all,” she told them.

  A waiter took their drink orders and left menus. They sat watching the scene with interest. Rebecca seemed a bit uneasy and Brenna asked her why.

  “How many non-telepaths have tried to kill you?”

  “Oh.”

  Antonia leaned forward and spoke to Rebecca, “Brenna has you covered with her shield and I have Irina covered. We have four Protectors inside and another eight outside. If anyone tries to start something in here, well, it would be a very foolish thing to do. Murder and mayhem are considered rude, and the bouncers here are more than a little Gifted. We just need to be very alert when we leave.”

  Rebecca nodded and relaxed a little.

  Dinner was quite good, the wine Antonia ordered was superb, and the cocktails were mixed to perfection. When they finished eating, men began to approach their table and ask them to dance. In spite of their Glams, or perhaps because of them, the most popular woman at their table seemed to be Rebecca. She was a very good dancer, and she spent a lot of the evening on the dance floor. The funniest pairing was the man close to six and a half feet tall who was enamored with Irina, asking her to dance several times. She looked like a child in his arms, her head barely reaching his chest.