Succubus Ascendant: An Urban Fantasy (The Telepathic Clans Saga Book 4) (30 page)

He kissed her. “It may take three years before I can be here full time. Is that okay?”

She pulled him down on top of her. “Remind me of why I want you in my bed,” she said with a smile.

Brenna called Michael the following morning. “I need sixty million dollars. I don’t know how much that is in euros.”

“More airplanes?” Michael’s voice was flat.

“Communications and computing hardware and software to upgrade O’Byrne’s capabilities and integrate us with O’Donnell and O’Neill,” Brenna replied. “O’Donnell will take care of their end. I need to build a world-class computing and telecommunications infrastructure. It’s not just for Clan business, but for our moneymaking business interests as well. Ireland is already a software development hot spot. Collin can leverage that and turn us into a major player in the industry. It will be a three-way partnership between O’Byrne, O’Neill and O’Donnell.”

“What about O’Neill?” Michael asked. “How much are they contributing?”

“Another sixty million. O’Donnell will put in four hundred million, including our own transatlantic cable.”

“Goddess, Brenna. How are you going to talk Seamus and Callie into that?”

“I don’t have to. We had already allocated three hundred million to put in the cable. The ROI numbers look even better with O’Neill and O’Byrne thrown into the mix.”

“Where are you going to put all this new infrastructure?”

“At Wicklow. We’ll upgrade Dublin, of course, but I want the main computer centers in places that are defensible. It will mean new high-paying jobs in Wicklow, as well as in Dublin. We’ll have to put in facilities at Dunany also, but I’ll take care of that out of my own pocket.” Dunany was the estate and horse stables Brenna had inherited from her mother.

“Michael, I’d also like to find some time for you to meet with a man named Jack Calhoun. He’s the president of my development and construction company in the States. I’d like to explore opportunities for expanding in Ireland. He’s already doing some work for me in Dunany, and I’d like to find some property in Dublin and maybe Cork to develop.”

“For a pretty little girl in fancy dresses, you certainly think like a capitalist shark,” Michael said.

She sputtered into the phone, completely at a loss for something to say.

Michael laughed. “You’re as fun to tease as Morrighan,” he said. “I miss the naive little sister she used to be, but I think you’ll do nicely until you catch on to me.”

~~~

Brenna’s base of support at O’Byrne was much stronger than at O’Neill. Rhiannon was popular there, and having her as heir reassured those who didn’t know Brenna. Jared Wilkins, her cousin, steward, and Callie’s son, had been working at O’Byrne as her transition manager for three years. Fergus had turned over day-to-day responsibility for running the estate to him long ago. It also helped that Jared, a lawyer by training, and Michael had long known each other and were good friends. Jared was easygoing and friendly, and people liked him. Young women especially liked him.

With Jared, Rebecca and Rhiannon at O’Byrne, Brenna felt secure in turning all of her attention to the situation at O’Neill. Recovering from Hugh’s rebellion was going to be a long and expensive task. They had lost enough orders for new ships that the Glasgow shipyard would run at a loss for the next few years.

Andrew’s support had melted away after the bombing in Wales and the attack on Brenna’s motorcade, but his adherents had made occasional raids on O’Byrne facilities and transport. With Brenna’s ascension, those were stepped up. Devlin speculated that many of these raids were aimed at acquiring supplies or goods that could be sold. Andrew’s personal wealth was almost nonexistent, and without a means of support, he needed some way of feeding his troops.

Rhiannon and Rebecca took a day to drive up to Dublin and visit Morrighan. She had invited them to lunch and a day of sightseeing. Even such everyday activities were overshadowed by security needs. They traveled in a convoy of heavily armed Protectors, all the vehicles surrounded by air shields. When they reached Morrighan’s apartment in an O’Byrne-owned building, the security reminded Rebecca of a foreign embassy in Washington. A hundred Protectors accompanied them to lunch, with thirty in close support.

Sitting at a table in an outside courtyard of an upscale bistro, Rhiannon said, “Is this much security really necessary? I understand that Andrew’s a threat, but this is overkill.”

Rebecca and Morrighan exchanged glances and shifted uneasily in their seats. Rhiannon froze, studying them through narrowed eyes.

“What am I missing?” she asked. “What’s going on that you’re afraid to talk about?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Morrighan started, then stopped as she saw the hard set of Rhiannon’s jaw.

Rebecca cleared her throat. “Let me try to explain,” she pleaded. “There are actually three security teams here. Morrighan’s, mine, and yours. So it looks a lot worse than it actually is. It won’t always be this way. Once things settle down, and Andrew is taken care of, you probably won’t have more than fifteen or twenty men assigned to you. Maybe thirty.”

“And why would I have anyone assigned to me?” Rhiannon said.

Rebecca squared her shoulders and looked Rhiannon straight in the eye. “Because you’re the heir. Because you’re Corwin’s granddaughter. No matter what your last name is, you’re an O’Neill of O’Neill. I get a team because Seamus insists that his blood kin get protection. The same thing with Morrighan being Fergus’s daughter. You may pretend that you can take care of yourself, but the potential for blackmail if someone captures you is too high.”

“I knew it was a mistake getting involved with the Clans,” Rhiannon said, shaking her head and reaching for her beer. “Wait! I didn’t get involved with you. Brenna kidnapped me! That bitch. I’m making a list. She’s going to owe me into the next life.”

Rebecca chuckled. “That’s the proper spirit. You know she feels guilty about it, don’t you? But that won’t stop her from using you the next time she needs you to do something.”

The three women clicked their glasses in a silent toast.

After lunch, Morrighan said, “I need to pick up a friend at the airport. You don’t mind, do you?”

They drove out to Dublin airport and parked the limo. Two Protectors disappeared into the terminal, emerging a few minutes later with a tall, dark-haired man.

“Carlos!” Rebecca screamed, scrambling out of the car and running toward him. He scooped her up in his arms and spun her around like a little girl. Setting her back on her feet, he kissed her so hard and deep and long that every woman in sight stopped and stared in envy.

They walked back to the limo, arms around each other’s waists, and Rebecca introduced her husband to Rhiannon.

“Morrighan told me you were easy on the eyes,” Rhiannon said. “Do you have a brother?”

“I have several brothers, señorita,” he replied with a smile. “Perhaps Rebecca will bring you to meet them the next time she visits Quito.” He leaned down and kissed his wife, then looked around. “This is summer? It’s quite pleasant.”

“Sure is. It hasn’t rained all day, and since we’re in the midst of a heat wave, you’re in for a treat. Most of the girls at Wicklow are probably out sun bathing,” Rebecca told him. Turning to her friends, she said, “Quito is on the equator, but it’s so high that it rarely hits 70 degrees, and during the wet season, it rains as much as it does here.”

*Don’t tell him about Irish winters,*
Rebecca sent to her friends on a spear thread.
*I don’t want to scare him off.*

On the way to Wicklow, Carlos asked, “Do you have time to help me find a place to live in Paris?”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Rebecca said. “I’ll have to check and see if Brenna needs me for anything.”

“My mother lives in Paris,” Rhiannon said. “If you like, I can ask her to help you.”

“That would be wonderful,” Carlos said.

When they reached the O’Byrne estate, Rebecca led Carlos to her room.

“Nice room,” Carlos said. “A bit smaller than the one at O’Donnell.”

“It was Maureen’s. Shut up and kiss me.”

Taking her in his arms, he kissed her long and deep. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he kissed her throat, her ears, her eyelids. She fumbled with his belt, but stopped when he covered her mouth again, draining her thoughts away as she lost herself in the softness of his lips, the heat of his tongue fencing with hers.

He was far more adept at belts than she was. Her pants skimmed down to her ankles before she knew they were unfastened. Picking her up, he carried her to the bed and laid her down, spreading her legs. She watched him undress, then he lay between her knees and kissed her while unbuttoning her shirt.

His tongue found her breast and toyed with her nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Arching into him, she gasped as his hand slid between her legs. Urgently, she pushed against him, circling her hips as a ravening hunger rose inside her. Writhing beneath him, she grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth back to hers.

“I want you. Now!”

Chuckling, he slipped away from her. She grasped at him, but he was too quick, and as his face disappeared between her legs and his mouth settled on her, she moaned, falling back on the bed. With tongue and clever fingers, he took her to the edge of madness and then sent her over. The orgasm started between her legs and exploded in her brain, her hips bucking so hard she knocked him off the bed.

Panting for air, her body jerking from the bolts of pleasure running through it, she felt him bump against her entrance. With a single thrust he was inside her, filling her as no one ever had. His mind merged with hers, and then their souls merged. Another orgasm shot through her, and into him. They cried out together as he shared her pleasure, continuing to thrust inside her. Wrapping her legs around him, she matched his rhythm and their intertwined souls soared.

~~~

Rebecca spent a week showing Carlos around Wicklow and Dublin, then they took her new jet and flew to Paris. Rhiannon continued to pour through the library at O’Byrne seeking information on the Power-Shadow-Pathfinder trine. Frustrated because she couldn’t find a book that was referenced in the card catalogue, she contacted Lord O’Byrne.

*
My Lord?*

*Yes, Rhiannon. How can I help you?*
he responded immediately.

*
I’m trying to find a book in your library, but I’ve looked everywhere and I swear it’s not here. Where else can I look?*

When she told him the names of the books she was seeking, he sent, *
That’s my fault. I took some of the books with me. I have it here in France.*

*Is there any chance I can talk you into sending it to me?*

*Send me an image for a landing spot.*

A few minutes later, Fergus O’Byrne appeared in the middle of the library holding several books.

“Here’s the book you were looking for and a couple of others that might interest you,” he said. “Suppose you tell me what you’re looking for.”

Rhiannon called for tea and began explaining the research she and Rebecca were conducting. He asked her some questions, and that led to her telling him about the visitations of the Goddess and what She had told Brenna, Rebecca and Rhiannon at various times.

“You girls are over thinking this,” he said when she finished. “The Pathfinder is really just what it says. The one who finds the way.”

“But the way to what?” Rhiannon asked.

“You said that the Goddess told Brenna and Rebecca that She doesn’t know where their path will lead. If She doesn’t, then why are you spending time looking through old books? Evidently, you will discover that path.”

“But where do I look?”

He laughed. “I would suggest that you just lead your life, and someday you’ll stumble over it.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”

“Do you have a better one? If you don’t know where you’re going, what your fates will be, then how do you find the path? Rhiannon, it’s very difficult to plan for the unknown. What I do believe is that you’ll recognize it when you find it.”

“Whatever
it
is,” Rhiannon said.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Think about it. Last year, did you even imagine the path you’re currently on? The world has a way of intruding on our fantasies about how it should work. You’re the oldest. Brenna and Rebecca haven’t even reached thirty yet. And you want to know where you’ll be a hundred years from now?”

He placed his hand on hers. “Rhiannon, think about what you did in Russia. A year ago, if you’d asked me or Seamus, the idea that we would have two Russian Clans as our allies would have been laughable. You led an expedition into an exceptionally hostile territory and won a victory that changes the entire landscape. No one could have predicted that path.”

“But I wasn’t a pathfinder. I was follower. Irina found that path.”

“Did she? I was told that you volunteered to go with her. Everyone was surprised at that. What was your interest? You barely knew the girl. And then she was captured. Who drove the effort that rescued her and not only overthrew the Gorbachev Clan, but also captured the Romanov Clan as an ally?”

He took her face between his hands, capturing her eyes with his. “Rhiannon, the Pathfinder doesn’t have to be a visionary, that’s Brenna’s role. The future is nebulous. There are multiple paths to take. Your role is to choose between paths. Whether it is the best path, or the easiest path, doesn’t matter. At each decision point, someone must choose a path. Once done, it’s up to Brenna to choose whether to go there. If she says no, then you’ll look for another until she decides to follow one. At that point, you’ll be presented with new possibilities, because every path has branches. Do you understand? The Pathfinder identifies possibilities. You’ll give Brenna your best advice as to those that look most promising, and those that look most dangerous.”