Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4)

by BR Kingsolver

  Climbing the steps of a large fountain so that he could be seen by the crowd, Fergus used both his voice and telepathic communication to address the crowd.

  “The Goddess gives us our Gifts, and blesses us with a wonderful world to live in,” he began. “The seasons bring us new life in the spring, and harvests in autumn. Just as the world has its cycles, so do our lives.”

  A murmur began. The members of the Clan had been waiting for this moment since Brenna was named heir.

  “I have lived a full and happy life,” Fergus continued. “I have had the great privilege of being addressed as your Lord, and the joy of seeing O’Byrne grow and prosper for almost a century and a half. And now I am entering a new cycle in my life. I am looking forward to simply being Fergus, and no longer Lord O’Byrne.”

  He paused, waiting for the crowd to quiet.

  “I have had the honor and privilege of leading this Clan since 1875. I am tired. As you all know, my wife is in poor health. It is time for us to step aside and let those who are younger and have more energy do the work.”

  He motioned for Brenna to join him atop the wall surrounding the fountain.

  “My granddaughter, Brenna Aoife O’Donnell, shall be taking my place as Clan Chief. I ask you all to show her the loyalty, love and patience you have shown me. She is young, and she will need your help as she grows into the role, but there is no one more qualified. This I believe with every fiber of my being. She is smart, she is strong, she is humble, and she is compassionate. As her other grandfather once told me, anyone who wants to be a Clan Chief is obviously too stupid to understand what the job entails. She has done everything in her power to try to talk me out of this, which tells me she is the proper person for the job.”

  Scattered laughter from the crowd.

  Fergus stepped down, leaving Brenna standing alone facing her new Clan. She took a deep breath.

  “Thank you for welcoming me,” she began. “I don’t remember the first time I lived here in Wicklow. You’ll have to forgive me, but although I was born here, I was only eight months old when I left. I do remember coming back, but then my parents died when I was eight, and it was many years before I came here again. My mother loved it here, and I’m sure my parents planned to raise me partially here and partially in the United States.”

  She stopped, her composure slipping. The crowd was silent, and waited for her to continue.

  “As I’m sure you know, in a perfect world my mother, Maureen O’Byrne, would be standing here. She was supposed to be the heir, just as my father was supposed to be the heir of O’Donnell. And in that perfect world, I would have another hundred years before I had to grow up.”

  She squared her shoulders, her chin jutted out defiantly. “But we don’t live in a perfect world. We have enemies. The Clans have been fighting for survival for thousands of years, and there are dangers all around us. We are a vulnerable minority in a world with billions of norms. We have other Clans who would take our lands and force us to live as their servants. Many of you here remember living under the English yoke. Our enemies have burned us at the stake, slaughtered us in battle, starved us in our homes.”

  Looking around, she saw many, especially the older people, nodding.

  “Some might think that being Clan Chief means living in a fine manor house and telling people what to do. Having servants and fancy clothes. Anyone who thinks that has never watched or understood Fergus O’Byrne. They have definitely failed to understand Caylin O’Byrne. I know that my place in this Clan is dependent on how well I serve you, protect you, and help you to prosper. The Irish do not suffer tyrants well.”

  She turned and held out her hand to Fergus, who took it in his. “My grandfather spent one hundred and forty years doing this job. I’m sure I won’t do it very well at first, definitely not with the grace and understanding that he has. But I promise to do my best to fulfill my duties. I ask you to help me to fulfill them. I ask for your patience, your support, and your counsel. I don’t know all of you. I plan to. Please feel welcome to stop by and have tea. I know that my grandfather never turned any of you away, and I don’t plan to change that. Thank you for welcoming me to Wicklow.”

  Brenna took a deep breath, uncertain of how to address the next part. She looked around, seeing people patiently waiting.

  “As you know, I recently inherited the O’Neill Clan. There were those who opposed me, opposed Corwin naming me his heir. During the rebellion that followed, we discovered that Hugh O’Neill, Corwin’s son, was the man who killed my grandmother, my father, and my mother. In his efforts to eliminate all opposition, he attempted to kill me, and he did kill his own son, Finnian.”

  Looking around, she raised her voice. “War is a terrible thing. It tears families apart. It kills and cripples young people. But we, of all people, should know that there are things worse than war. We fought the Romans. We fought the English. We fought the fascists. I know that some blame me for the war in Northern Ireland and Scotland. I did not start that war. Instead of challenging me in the Clan Council, Hugh tried to assassinate me. He did assassinate three members of the Council. He and his partisans killed thirty-four children, one hundred and twelve non-combatant women, and the brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, fathers and mothers of thousands of loyal Clan members.”

  Her voice fell, but her telepathic voice remained strong. “I have ordered the exile of over a thousand people who fought for Hugh O’Neill. I have ordered the mind wipe of four hundred more. But Hugh killed almost a thousand people. It is my job to protect you. I could not allow those responsible for murder to walk away. Fergus and Corwin and Seamus told me this job would be hard. It is harder than I imagined.”

  She looked into the eyes of those in the front row, and tried to speak directly to them, and through them to the others farther away. “Andrew O’Byrne has now rebelled. He claims to have bombed one of our factories in Wales. He promises more death. I cannot look away from that. I will protect you. I will bring Andrew to justice. I will protect Clan O’Byrne, but I won’t promise it will be easy. I ask for your help, your loyalty, and your good will. In exchange, I promise you shall have mine.”

  She stepped down from the fountain. Rebecca stepped toward her, gave her a small smile and nodded. And then some people started clapping, then more of them, and some started cheering. The crowd closed around her, people called out welcomes and shouted encouragement. She stood in the midst of her people, shaking their hands, hugging them, a smile on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Back in the room Brenna and Rebecca shared, Rebecca asked, “What about Andrew?”

  “If you can find him, take him out. But Rebecca, it has to be totally clean. No collateral damage. That’s not the message I want to send to the Clan. Not a one of them is worth sacrificing to kill Andrew.”

  “I hope he doesn’t kill you,” Rebecca said.

  Brenna chuckled. “That’s why I have a bad-ass Protector sleeping in my room.”

  “Oh, please,” Rebecca said, rolling her eyes and going off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and get ready for bed.

  A knock on the door had Brenna casting her mind out to see who it was. She admitted Morrighan, who drew her into a hug.

  “How are you doing, Lady O’Byrne?” Morrighan said.

  “That shit has to stop,” Brenna said, drawing away from her aunt. “I’m not Lady O’Byrne. At the most, I’m Lady Brenna, but not to you. This thing is already too complicated. I’ll go nuts trying to figure out whether I’m Lady O’Byrne, Lady O’Donnell or Lady O’Neill, depending on which day it is and where I am.”

  Morrighan laughed. “It’s going to take some time for the Irish Clans to break down centuries of formality. And some people may resent it.”

  “I really don’t think so. The older people will remember Caylin, and appreciate me not trying to take on her mantle. And as young as I am, they won’t have a problem calling me Lady Brenna. The younger people will be easier.”

  Nodding, Mo
rrighan said, “You may be right.”

  She crossed to the sideboard and poured herself a snifter of brandy. “What are you going to do about Andrew?”

  “Try to find him, limit the damage,” Brenna replied. “If we’re careful, hopefully we can avoid another war. I’m hoping we can draw him in and trap him. Give him enough rope to hang himself.”

  Morrighan shrugged. “If you need someone to tie the noose, let me know.”

  “Do you and your brothers hate him that much?”

  “You have no idea. He’s tried to kill every one of us. When Michael was three and Andrew was twelve, Andrew tried to drown him. He pushed me off a horse and tried to trample me when I was eight. But he really screwed up with Brian. Brian is the strongest of all of us. He damn near crippled Andrew when Andrew tried to bully him. If it wasn’t for Father, Brian would have killed him decades ago.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. He’s a bloody sociopath. Murderous, sadistic, and narcissistic.”

  “C’mon, Morrighan, don’t hold back. Tell us what you really think,” Brenna said with a laugh.

  “What do you expect him to do?” Rebecca asked, coming back into the room.

  “Andrew grew up during the Irish fight for independence,” Morrighan said. “During the Troubles in the north, he joined the IRA. Father wasn’t happy. I don’t think Andrew did it out of a sense of patriotism. I think he just liked blowing things up, killing and maiming people.”

  “Wonderful,” was all that Rebecca said, shooting a look at Brenna.

  “You know he had people in the crowd tonight,” Morrighan said.

  “Devlin has doubled security at all their facilities, cancelled leaves, and put everyone on red alert,” Rebecca told them.

  “You mean our facilities, right?” Brenna said.

  “Yeah, our facilities. Damn.” Rebecca looked from Brenna to Morrighan and back again. “This is for keeps, huh?”

  She sat down in a chair and stared off into space for a few minutes.

  “Where do I fit into all this? Formally, I mean,” Rebecca finally asked.

  Brenna looked at Morrighan.

  “Security coordinator,” Morrighan promptly said. “You’re dealing with security apparatus in three separate Clans, and three separate security chiefs. They’d better all be on the same page.”

  Brenna nodded. “Do I have to give her a raise? Or can I continue to pay her with empty promises and good will?”

  Rebecca barked a laugh and Morrighan chuckled.

  “How about my own private plane so I can visit my husband occasionally?” Rebecca suggested.

  “Want to go see him tonight?” Brenna asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Brenna told Morrighan. “Don’t stand on that rug over there by the bed.”

  She took her sister’s arm and sent a spear thought to Carlos in Washington. Then the two women disappeared. Five minutes later, Brenna reappeared on the rug by the bed.

  “It must be nice to be able to just go anywhere you want, anytime you want,” Morrighan said.

  Brenna pursed her mouth and said, “I used to think it would be nice to have enough money to do anything I wanted. I’ve discovered that when you have that much money, you can’t do everything you want. Hell, sometimes I can’t do anything that I want to do. It seems like everyone wants a piece of me all the time. If I could teleport around the world on my own, like a jetsetter, then I’d get excited about it. But I can’t. All the security and my responsibilities get in the way. The logistics prevent it.”

  Morrighan nodded. “So, what now?”

  “I guess I need to get into the finances and business of O’Byrne so I understand what’s going on. I’ve tried to keep up with it the past two years, but I don’t have as good an understanding of this Clan as I do of O’Donnell. Then I need to figure out how to integrate the two Irish Clans with O’Donnell. I need to put Collin and Devlin together to get the security stuff straight. And I need to figure out what to do with Andrew and Rebecca.”

  ~~~

  The next day, she teleported to Dublin to speak with Michael O’Byrne, then to Washington and had a second breakfast with Rebecca and Carlos.

  “Have you two figured out what you’re going to do?” Brenna asked them.

  “I’ve been toying with the idea of shooting you,” Rebecca said, raking her hand through her hair. “But Carlos thinks there are less drastic solutions to our problem.”

  Brenna and Carlos both laughed.

  Rebecca’s husband, tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired and movie-star-Latin handsome, said, “I’m resigning my position in the military. I knew this would come, and I’ve stayed on in this job because it gave me an excuse to be here in Washington.” Carlos was a general in the Ecuadorian army and his country’s military attaché at their embassy in the United States. He was also heir to the Vargas Clan in Ecuador.

  “My father plans to continue as Clan Chief for another forty years. We have talked about what would happen when you and Rebecca moved to Ireland. He says it’s time I became more business oriented, so I’ll be taking over our trade office in Paris. It’s not the ideal living situation, but we’re going to get a place in London so we can meet in the middle.”

  “It’s less than a two hour flight from Dublin to Paris,” Rebecca said. “An hour from Dublin to London and an hour from Paris to London. We’ll manage.”

  “Rebecca, what do you want to do?” Brenna said, leaning forward and looking directly into her sister’s eyes. “I know that Morrighan’s idea makes some sense, but I can find someone else to coordinate security. What do you want to do?”

  Rebecca leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee and staring off into space. Silence extended for several minutes, with Brenna and Carlos also preoccupied with their own thoughts.

  “You know,” Rebecca said at last, “I didn’t object to that because it makes sense. Not just sense in a strategic way, but in a personal way. I enjoy being a Protector. Goddess help me, but the rush, the excitement of being in Scotland, of the work I did in Russia, was something I liked.”

  She took Carlos’s hand. “As much as I love you, I don’t want to sit around knitting sweaters and keeping house. Maybe someday, but I’m young and I need to be active. I enjoy all the travel, seeing new places. I feel as though I learn something new every day.”

  Turning to Brenna, she said, “That sounds good. Let’s go with security coordinator for now, and see what it morphs into. I’m sure that we’ll figure it out over time.”

  “Okay,” Brenna said. “I have a present for you. I know it’s not enough to make up for what the two of you are doing for me, but maybe it will help.”

  She held out a piece of paper to Rebecca.

  Rebecca’s eyes about popped out of her head. “Brenna, I wasn’t serious!”

  “What?” Carlos asked.

  “She bought us an airplane! Jesus, Brenna. You can’t do that!”

  “I already did. If you’re going to be coordinating security for three Clans, you’re going to need to be mobile. This plane will fit the runways at all three Clans and its range will take you from Paris to West Virginia. We’ll write it off as a corporate expense to O’Byrne.”

  They stared at her with their mouths open.

  “Now, señor de Vargas, what kind of business ventures do you plan to explore in Europe? Should I have Brian O’Byrne contact you to develop an integrated strategy for taking the Continent by storm? Should I put you in contact with the Clan Chiefs in Russia? I’m sure they have a need for warm sweaters, even if your wife refuses to knit them.”

  ~~~

  Leaving Carlos in Washington, Brenna and Rebecca teleported to West Virginia, where they spent the rest of the morning closeted with Seamus and Callie. Brenna had an intimate lunch with Collin, then she and Rebecca teleported back to Ireland in time for dinner, each carrying two large suitcases full of clothes.

  Seated at the head of the table, with her grandparents
to her right and Rebecca and their cousin Jared to her left, Brenna felt very uncomfortable. Only family attended, but there were sixty people at the table. She had gotten to know most of them over the previous two years, but her place in the Clan had undergone a major change in the past day.

  Dinner conversation was subdued, with everyone focused on their new Clan Chief. Brenna assured them that she planned no major changes in the Clan or its business operations. She also told them that she was open to recommendations or suggestions, and encouraged them to meet with her to discuss anything they might want her to hear.

  The following day, she traveled to Dublin for a business meeting with her uncles Michael and Brian and her Aunt Morrighan. They rode in two limousines, sandwiched by two vans full of Protectors in front and two behind. Brenna was amused by Rhiannon and Brian trying to avoid sitting next to each other. Being the Clan Chief had its perks, such as micromanaging minor things when the whim took her.

  Brenna directed Rebecca to join Morrighan in the lead limo with Michael. Brushing past Rhiannon, actually being a bit rude, she took the seat Rhiannon had targeted and set her briefcase next to her. The only empty seat left was the one next to Brian.

  The sexual tension in the back of the limo was sky high. Brenna was sure the two people sitting across from her thought they were masking their feelings, but it’s almost impossible to hide attraction from a succubus. She knew from Rhiannon’s memories that her cousin was madly in love with Brian, indeed had been since she was a teenager. But Brian had brushed her off once, and Rhiannon had never gotten over the humiliation. It sat like an aching tooth in the back of her mind, and seeing Brian brought out the pain.

  What Brenna couldn’t figure out was why, since Brian was obviously smitten with her, he’d never tried to rekindle a relationship.

  As they slowed to enter a roundabout before the M11 highway near the town of Rathnew, a streak of light from the trees on their left hit the lead van and it exploded. Immediately, air shields went up around the limos and the other vans. The second lead van skidded and barely missed hitting the flaming wreckage in the road.