Succubus Rising, An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga) Page 3

His man took her ‘home’ at two o’clock in the morning, dropping her off in front of an apartment building owned by a Clan member. Her Protectors pulled up in her limo as soon as Lionel’s driver turned the corner.

  “So what do you think?” Irina asked her the next morning at breakfast.

  Brenna was surprised that she felt like a high school girl after a big date.

  “I liked it. I had a lot of fun, and you’re right, the people I was around were adults. I like to go out and shake my booty occasionally, but for getting laid by a stranger, this was at the top of the list. Irina, he introduced me to three more possible clients, and he gave me this.”

  She held out her wrist, showing a diamond tennis bracelet. Life was good.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER 3

  People like to pretend that money and looks don't matter, but they

  do. It's supposed to be a big meritocracy, but people here are just as shallow

  as anywhere else. The thing about D.C. is it's not Miami or New York where

  there are all these hot people everywhere. – Jessica Cutler, The Washingtonienne blog

  Brenna was coming home from the hotel where she and Irina had spent the night administering to the nerves of various Ecuadorian VIPs. They were on edge as the committee prepared to vote on the trade bill the next day. She left three whiny, privileged politicians and diplomats snoring peacefully, hoping that when they awoke their concerns would be gone. Her cell phone rang, and she saw with consternation that Rep. Townsend was calling.

  “Representative? You’re up awfully early,” Brenna answered, looking at her watch. It was six o’clock.

  “Brenna, I have a problem. I called Karen, and she told me to talk to you. Can you meet me for breakfast?”

  Arriving at a small diner a few blocks from the Capitol, Brenna found a rather distraught congresswoman. She had talked mentally with Karen and then with Cindy, both of whom had coached her on how to approach Townsend’s problem.

  “I just found out that one of my biggest backers, a man who controls thousands of jobs in my district, is planning on backing someone else in the Democratic primary next year,” Townsend said. “It seems one of my votes pissed him off and he’s going to be nasty about it. I talked to Karen, and she said I should talk to you.”

  Townsend’s mouth pursed in an expression of distaste. “Brenna, I’ve always tried to do the right thing, play it straight and not get caught up in the dirty way things are often done in this town, but I’m looking at being unemployed this time next year.” She shrugged, “Maybe that’s a good thing, but I’m so close to getting a committee chair and power that would actually enable me to accomplish something.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Brenna asked. “I don’t think that having a lobbyist talk to him is going to change his mind if you can’t.”

  Townsend wrung her hands, anguish on her face. “I’m not naïve. I know why MacIntyre employs you. Karen and I have known each other a long time, and although I’ve always tried to stay above the political dirty tricks, I know how they’re played. If Karen sent me to you, there was a reason. Considering your age, inexperience, and incredible good looks and charm, I assume you, well …”

  Brenna nodded, “There are services for sale in this town that a reputable firm such as MacIntyre wouldn’t employ. Services that require the utmost discretion and, if offered for payment, might be considered unethical or even illegal. I wouldn’t know anything about such services either. I would never consider doing anything that would cross the line of professional ethics, and I would never do anything illegal.”

  The tension in the congresswoman’s body relaxed a bit. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Really, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “Representative, I may be inexperienced, but I know there’s a lot of horse trading in this town. I think you’re one of the good guys, and there aren’t too many of you. I’m sorry you have this problem. I’ll look into it and see if there’s anything I can do.”

  Townsend’s eyes widened.

  “I’ll do this, not as a MacIntyre employee, but as your friend. If I’m able to convince this gentleman to continue to support you, I assume I’ll be able to call on your friendship occasionally if I need it.” Brenna raised one eyebrow. “Do we understand each other, and do you still want my help?”

  Townsend stared at her, “Yes, I’d like your help,” she said quietly, and looked at the ceiling. “I’ve never sold my soul before. You’d think it would hurt more.” Her gaze returned to Brenna. “I thought you were young and inexperienced. I guess I’m the one who’s naïve.”

  “Representative Townsend, I’m not asking for your soul, just your friendship. There’s a difference, and although you may not understand that difference, I do. It’s not your soul that you’re giving up, but your illusions that anyone in this town is clean. If it were up to me, I’d pull down the Capitol dome during the State of the Union address. But if I have to work within the system, I don’t try to fool myself as to how the system works.”

  Townsend nodded, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m yours. God help me, I hope I don’t regret this.”

  “Representative, there are other services that Karen has offered you in the past. I suggest you consider using some of them. We can do a lot for you if you contract us to help with your reelection campaign. Now, what’s this man’s name and how do I find him?”

  That evening, Brenna went to a hotel near the Capitol where Townsend’s troublesome campaign contributor was staying. He stepped out of the elevator into the lobby and ran into Brenna, who was pretending to be walking by, knocking her to the floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” Devin McCourty said, leaning over and offering Brenna his hand. “Are you all right?”

  Brenna hesitated, letting him have a good look at her legs while her skirt was hiked up to her panties. Breathing deeply, her chest heaving with the effort, she said, “I, I think so.”

  McCourty helped her to her feet. Brenna rubbed her hip and took a tentative step, then stopped with a sharp intake of breath. He stepped forward and took her arm, concern evident on his face. A sharp burst of pheromones brought a glassy look to his eyes. She turned toward him and leaned against his chest, her breasts pressing against him. She realized she was becoming a bit neurotic when she found herself scanning his heart, but she had nightmares sometimes of Senator Evans’ blank eyes staring at her.

  “I guess I’m not as steady as I thought,” she said in her best sultry voice. “I feel a little dizzy.”

  “Let’s find a place to sit down,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. He led her to the lounge and helped her to sit at a table. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “A glass of wine, perhaps,” Brenna said, taking a deep breath that strained the buttons of her blouse.

  He went to the bar and came back with a glass of white wine for her and a drink for himself.

  “Thank you,” Brenna said, taking a sip and giving him another puff of pheromones. “It’s so pleasant to find a real gentleman.”

  He missed his dinner appointment, as well as his appointments the next two days. Sex with a woman with the Kashani Gift, also called the Succubus Gift, drained three-fourths of a man’s life energy. It took days for him to recover completely. While he slept, she subtly influenced him in favor of Margaret Townsend, and also influenced him away from Townsend’s potential opponent. He left Washington firmly in Margaret’s camp and unsure why he had ever considered backing someone else.

  ~~~

  Brenna, Irina and Rebecca dressed for the celebration at the Ecuadorian embassy. The full Senate had ratified the treaty on a 78-22 vote. Eduardo, the primary trade delegate, and Pedro, the deputy minister of trade, were escorting the two succubi. Emiliano, Pedro’s bodyguard, was escorting Rebecca. Karen was being escorted by the chief of staff to the ambassador. Although the ambassador himself had been the recipient of services supplied by MacIntyre’s staff over the yea
rs, he was escorting his wife this evening.

  Brenna wore a green charmeuse mermaid-line dress, strapless with a dipping sweetheart pushup bodice. It hugged her curves like a second skin. Rebecca called her a show-off.

  “Hey, as long as she doesn’t pop out, it covers her nipples,” Irina smirked.

  Irina was attired in a halter-topped red chiffon sheath with a crisscross bodice, slit to her hip, and Rebecca wore a teal taffeta empire-waisted gown with a faux halter-top. The cut made her look even taller than she was, and with four-inch stilettos, she easily topped six feet.

  This was the first formal occasion any of them had attended in Washington, and they were nervous enough to hit Brenna’s Midleton’s and not dilute the alcohol in their veins. The O’Donnell limo delivered them to the embassy, followed by a van full of tuxedoed Protectors. Their escorts met them at the door and led them inside.

  While her friends were fluent in Spanish, Brenna didn’t speak Spanish at all. She was able to follow conversations by reading people’s minds, but unable to respond except in English.

  The young ladies had been thoroughly briefed as to their expected behavior and made to study the State Department's protocol guide. Karen was quite insistent they should represent MacIntyre as though they were trained diplomats representing a foreign country.

  It was a formal black-tie affair and the women in their evening gowns floated like colorful flowers through the ballroom. The three friends were introduced to so many people their heads began to swim. Brenna received extensive praise and thanks for her work on the treaty. The stack of business cards in her clutch diminished as she handed them out to anyone who asked.

  After a couple of glasses of champagne, she made her way to the ladies' room, Rebecca quietly shadowing her. On exiting, she was searching for her escort when a tall man in a formal military uniform stepped into her path.

  He was very handsome, a couple of inches taller than Collin’s six feet two, with slicked-back black hair and a thin mustache. His broad chest displayed dozens of medals and ribbons. She brushed his mind and encountered telepathic shields.

  "Senorita O'Donnell? I am General Carlos Martin de Vargas y Saenz. I'm delighted to meet you."

  Brenna dipped her head in acknowledgement. "Good evening, General. Are you in town for the celebration or are you stationed here?"

  "It is my honor to serve my country as the Military Attaché at our embassy here," he replied, probing her shields enough to irritate her.

  "Then you must be very pleased that all the hard work your colleagues put into this treaty has been rewarded," she said.

  "Indeed. I have heard a great deal about you, and about your work on our behalf," he replied, still probing her shields.

  Suddenly, Irina appeared by her side.

  “I didn't know that manners were so sorely lacking in your country, Senor. In this country, we consider probing a woman's shields as rude as groping her,” Irina said, speaking to the general in rapid-fire Spanish. Rebecca translated for Brenna on a spear thread.

  The general turned bright red.

  "May I introduce my friend Tinkerbelle?" Brenna said with an arched eyebrow. The general barked out a laugh and Irina giggled. "This is General Carlos Martin de Vargas y Saenz, the Ecuadorian Military Attaché."

  Still in Spanish, Irina replied, "I'm so disappointed. I had heard the Vargas Clan was very sophisticated and elegant. They must have shipped you out of the country because they were ashamed of you." An observer might have considered Irina’s smile pleasant, but Brenna could see the hard edge. Her friend was angry, and letting the general know it.

  His face turned even redder. He bowed to Brenna, "My apologies, Senorita. Your friend is correct. My manners are inexcusable. I hope you will forgive me."

  "Oh, I'm sure I will," Brenna said airily, "as soon as you fall on your sword."

  His eyes danced and a slight smile twitched the corners of his mouth. "I'm afraid I forgot to bring it this evening. Perhaps I could instead buy you dinner some evening and show you that I do know how to behave in a civilized manner."

  Careful, Rebecca sent. Wasn’t it an apology that got you mixed up with Colin?

  Stifling an urge to laugh, Brenna slipped a card from her clutch and handed it to him. "You may call me if you wish. You do understand that I don't have much privacy, and you would be taking my security team with us."

  "Washington can be a dangerous place," he agreed, glancing at Irina, "but it seems you have a rather small team this evening."

  Irina’s smile froze, and the sparkle in her eyes disappeared as her pupils dilated almost fully. Brenna had never seen Irina rise to the killing edge before, but General de Vargas had triggered her. She wondered if he knew how close he was to dying.

  Evidently he did, because he took a nervous step back. Rebecca's voice behind him caused his eyes to widen.

  "We can be unobtrusive. In fact, the last three men who were rude to her didn't even know I was there. They seemed quite surprised when I slipped the knife between their ribs," Rebecca said in Spanish.

  He spun around, his eyes looking down, expecting the woman behind him to be shorter than he was. Instead, he found himself looking at Rebecca's cleavage. His eyes traveled up and discovered her eyes were almost even with his.

  "General de Vargas, this is the head of my security team, Rebecca Healy. Rebecca, this is General Carlos Martin de Vargas y Saenz," Brenna said.

  "Protector Healy," he bowed slightly. "O'Donnell Protectors have a reputation for being well trained, but not for being so beautiful. I see that my intelligence is faulty. Tell me, were you in charge of Senorita O'Donnell's security in Paris?"

  Rebecca cocked her head, studying him. "I've been with her for a long time," she answered.

  "It was a remarkable accomplishment, outnumbered three to one and still you were able to take all your charges out unharmed.” The corner of his mouth quirked, “Although you did leave a lot of bodies on the street."

  A small grin appeared on Rebecca's face, "The way these things grow in the telling ... it was only two to one. You probably also heard the rumor about lightning shooting out of someone's head. As to bodies on the street, we didn't choose to be ambushed, especially while on holiday in an open city."

  He nodded, "A dark-haired woman shooting lightning. I had assumed that was Senorita O'Donnell."

  "We had several dark-haired women with us that day," Rebecca said, probing his shields much harder than he had probed Brenna’s and making considerably more progress.

  "Well, I would be curious to hear the real story."

  "It's good for a man to be curious," she said with a flip of her hair. "Women need to carry an air of mystery."

  "Well, I won't keep you ladies any longer." He nodded at each of them in turn, "Senorita Healy, Senorita Tinkerbelle. Senorita O'Donnell, I will call."

  "I'll be breathlessly waiting," Brenna replied.

  General de Vargas beat a hasty retreat, once turning to look at them from halfway across the room.

  After the reception, their escorts took them back to the hotel housing the Ecuadorian delegation. Rebecca finally called for their limo at two o'clock in the morning. Riding back to the O'Donnell compound, Irina said what they all had been wondering. "What in the hell was all that about at the reception? De Vargas acted a bit strange, don't you think?"

  "Just a little bit," Rebecca replied, shaking her head.

  Brenna’s brow knitted together. "I think he wanted to talk to me about something, something other than trade agreements and Paris. I don't know why, but there was a feeling of nervousness about him. He acted like he wanted to pull me away to somewhere private, and not for the normal reason."

  "He is damned good looking," Irina smiled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "He can pull me away to somewhere private any time he wants to."

  She was ready to kill him over that ‘small’ remark, Brenna sent Rebecca.

  She’s a succubus, Rebecca replied. People make a mistake in thinking she�
��s all sugar. Don’t piss her off. She’ll kill you and be sorry later.

  Is that how you see me? Brenna asked.

  That’s how anyone with any sense sees you.

  ~~~

  General de Vargas called two days later asking to take Brenna out for dinner. She agreed and arranged to meet him at the restaurant he chose. Rebecca had a team there two hours early and they vetted the place with electronics and a bomb-sniffing dog, blurring the minds of the customers and staff.

  Brenna dressed conservatively, only showing a little bit of cleavage. They had a pleasant dinner. Carlos was a perfect and charming gentleman with excellent taste in wine. He engaged her with tales of his home and the beauty of Quito, Ecuador's capitol. He didn't probe her shields or ask her annoying questions, though after a while she became aware he was very curious about her being a succubus. Over espresso and brandy, she leaned back in her chair and studied him.

  "So when are you going to tell me why you wanted to see me alone? It would be flattering to think it was because you're madly infatuated with me, but I just don't get that impression."

  He chuckled, "Am I so transparent, or are my shields that leaky?"

  "I have some experience with men who have ulterior motives," she smirked, "but you aren't making any moves to seduce me, so I assume your ulterior motives are in another area."

  "You're very young to be so cynical."

  "Oh, my,” she said, her eyes widening and her hand clapping against her chest. “You don't suppose multiple assassination attempts might make someone a little wary, do you? Or perhaps being a succubus tends to make me just a little bit cynical about men.”

  She grinned. “Of course, being mentally groped by someone while they introduce themselves, followed by a dinner invitation, isn't the most subtle of approaches. But maybe you're used to having women lay down at your feet. You’re definitely charming when you want to be, but you're a terrible liar. I'm surprised a telepath of your age does such a terrible job of dissembling. Are you sure you're suited to be a diplomat?"

  He blushed, then leaned forward with an intense look on his face, his dark eyes locked on hers, and spoke softly, "I'm a military man, and we tend to be rather straightforward. I'm probably not the best person to be doing this. You and your friends have carved me up repeatedly. But I am the senior member of my Clan here in Washington.”