Born of Deception (22 page)

I keep my eyes on Calypso. Somehow I have to keep her from looking down. Three more steps. With more self-control than I knew I possessed, I focus on Calypso and not on the vaporous evil weaving around me like a snake dancing around a mouse. I need to force her to make a mistake—to look away, step into the circle, anything. Frantically I use the only thing I know that really upsets her. “Maybe Aiwass is using you to get to your father.”

Calypso frowns. “No. You don’t know anything. You think you do, but you don’t. For instance, you don’t know why I chose you in particular.”

Her gaze is unfocused as if she’s been smoking hashish. I move forward, willing her to do the same. She takes a step and my pulse speeds up. Just a bit more . . . “You chose me for my good taste in hats, didn’t you?” I say.

Calypso stops and laughs, a lilting girlish sound that sounds freakishly innocent. “No, silly. I was going to use Cole until I met you. But you had such interesting abilities and so much power. I felt it the moment I met you. Everyone was talking about it. So I chose you!”

I take another step toward her, but my toes are at the salt and I don’t want to get into the circle with her. “You chose me for what?”

The spirit being is still undulating around me as if sniffing for a way in. I shiver as the coldness brushes my skin.

“I chose you because I want your abilities. I discovered an incantation, you see. One that will allow me to claim your powers for my own.”

I have one hand on my balisong in my pocket, but I don’t want to pull it. For some reason giving Calypso a knife seems like a bad idea. “That’s why you killed Pratik?”

She nods. “I needed the blood. Dr. Boyle was angry because he wanted Pratik alive. Pratik’s ability to see people’s auras would have come in very handy in Dr. Boyle’s quest for fortune. He would have been able to tell Dr. Boyle exactly who was corruptible and who was not. But I decided I didn’t need Dr. Boyle’s money anymore. If I could combine my abilities and your abilities, I could make all the money I needed.”

She moves to a table and picks up a small urn. My heart sinks as she steps farther from the circle. Dipping her fingers into the urn, she touches her forehead and her nose and chin. I gag when I realize what it is.

Blood.

Aiwass leaves my side as if attracted to the scent of blood. Again, Calypso tilts her head to one side as if listening, and then her eyes turn to me. “What do you have? What are you wearing?”

I glance down at myself before I realize what she means.

The pendant.

“Take it off!” she commands.

I cover it with one hand, protecting it. “No, thank you. I think I’ll keep it.” I must get her to step forward. “How did you use Cole to get to me? I thought you couldn’t influence Sensitives?”

She smiles and I shiver at the craftiness that comes over her face. “I can if they wish to be influenced. Pratik wanted to believe that I was in love with him. Cole was more difficult because he’s in love with you, but even he was flattered by my attentions. Men are so very, very easy.”

“If men are so easy, why can’t you influence your father?” I taunt, trying to push her over the edge. I’ll never gain the upper hand as long as she is in control of herself. Not with Aiwass by her side.

Calypso’s mouth tightens at my words and she slaps her hand against her thigh repeatedly. “My father is the most powerful man in the world! Don’t talk about my father! Your father won’t even acknowledge your existence.”

My stomach knots. In spite of the situation, her words still sting. “How do you know that?” I demand, even though I know I shouldn’t let her sidetrack me.

A triumphant smile curves her lips as if she knows that she got to me. “Aiwass told me. He tells me everything.”

I shake off her words and focus. “My father cares about me in his way. Does yours? I’m not so sure. He and I had a long visit today, you know.”

“You’re lying!” she says through gritted teeth, but I sense her uncertainty.

I feel Aiwass whipping back to me as if frustrated. Bless Harry Price, I think reverently. The tension in the room presses in on me from all sides, making it difficult to breathe. “No, I’m not. He wants you to come see him. He sent me to bring you home.”

Her face contorts. “Liar!”

The door opens with a bang and both Calypso and I jump.

It’s Billy, holding Mr. Casperson around the neck with one arm.

“You didn’t tell me what to do if someone was going in, so I improvised.”

Billy takes in the situation with a glance but doesn’t comprehend what’s going on or where the danger is. All he sees is two young women arguing.

Mr. Casperson slumps, and Billy is momentarily thrown off balance. He regains it quickly, but doesn’t loosen his hold. Then he moves to my side, dragging the now inert man with him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Calypso’s lips curving up into a smile. “Let the man fall to the ground,” she says.

Her intent hits me as Billy’s eyes glaze over.

What have I done?

Twenty

“B
illy, run!” I scream.

But it’s too late.

“Let the man drop!” Calypso commands.

As if puzzled by his own behavior, Billy lets Mr. Casperson go. The man drops to the floor, apparently unconscious. Calypso turns to me, triumph written on her face.
“Get Anna’s necklace.”

I whisk my balisong out of my pocket and flick it open, but Billy is too fast for me and the chain is broken off my neck before I can get my knife up to his arm. The pendant clatters to the floor and I hear a hiss as the spirit makes a beeline for me. I shove Billy out of the way and bend to try to grab the necklace.

“No,” Calypso cries before running toward me. I glance up when she screams out in frustration.

She’s in the salt circle.

The spirit hits me and I can feel an excruciatingly cold mist penetrating my chest. I want to cry out, to scream for help, but there is no one here who can help me. My ribs feel as if they are being pried apart as the spirit forces its way inside me. I drop to my knees as my body convulses in protest. Instinctively, I know that if this spirit possesses me, I will never be the same. Even now I feel the insanity eating away at the edges of my mind.
Cole
!
I reach for him with everything I have but feel no answering spark, no warmth of connection. I am alone and for the first time I feel complete and utter despair. Then I remember.

“Walter!” I cry out with every bit of fight I have left.

Suddenly, the spirit is violently torn away from me and I whimper. With effort, I raise my head, blinking as my sight clears.

Calypso is still screaming, charging about the circle like a caged animal. The salt circle worked! I nearly sob in relief until my eyes take in the horror happening in the air over her head.

Two separate entities are clashing in the air so violently that I almost imagine I hear the crashing of thunder, though in reality, their fight is eerily silent and the only sound in the room is Calypso’s howling madness.

Billy slumps back against the wall, watching, horror written all over his face, as the mists momentarily become one, part, and then come together again. Slowly, one of them takes on the form of a slightly built young man in uniform.

Walter!

Calypso rushes toward the edge of the salt circle. I snatch up my pendant and scramble back at the fury on her face. She turns toward Billy. “Break the circle,” she shrieks. “Break it! Break it!”

Billy stands to do her bidding but doesn’t understand the command.

“Billy, don’t listen to her. She’s evil!” I try to reach him, but he just looks confused at my words.

Walter and Aiwass come together, and I feel rather than hear Walter’s soft cry. My heart breaks as I watch him start to crumble. He’s no match for Aiwass’s power. Like Billy, he came to protect me and, like Billy, is in danger for his trouble.

As if sensing her spirit guide’s imminent victory, Calypso regains control of herself. “On the floor, Billy, clean up the salt on the floor.”

Billy looks down, uncomprehending and I hear Walter whimpering.

No. I will not let her win.

In one smooth lightning-fast movement, I bend and grab both my knife and the satchel I’d dropped earlier. I somersault into the circle and am on my feet before Calypso can react. I try to get the rope out of my bag, but as I work to free it, she throws herself at me and I’m knocked to the floor. I slash sideways with my knife and my stomach turns as it glances off something soft.

Calypso pulls back and cries out, grabbing at her arm. The scent of blood draws Aiwass away from Walter and he is on her in a flash. I can’t tell what he’s doing, but her screams fill the apartment. I crawl backward in horror.

Something shatters behind me, and I whirl in time to see flashes of light as the mirror erupts into a thousand shards of glass. Billy hurls himself in front of me, protecting me with his body.

The pathway to the netherworld must be closing.

“Calypso!” A voice thunders and everyone, even the spirits, freezes.

Trembling, I turn. Standing in the doorway like a towering monolith is Aleister Crowley.

With a rush, Walter is by my side. I feel the cold of him but welcome it for the first time.

Mr. Crowley waves his hand and Aiwass dissolves into mist, then vanishes altogether. Some of the heaviness in the room disappears with the spirit. Calypso stares at her father from the floor, her eyes transfixed.

Her father steps toward her and stops at the edge of the salt circle. “Miss Van Housen,” he says to me without taking his eyes off Calypso. “I’ve come to take my daughter home. Please break the salt circle.”

He senses my hesitation. “She won’t harm anyone. Not ever again.” Calypso winces but is perfectly still. His voice is so commanding that I find myself doing what he says and, using my foot, I break the circle. Mr. Crowley holds out his hand and, whimpering like a beaten puppy, Calypso slowly gets up off the floor and steps to his side. I can see the blood dripping from her arm and almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

Mr. Crowley turns toward me. “I strongly suggest you remove everyone from the building as soon as possible. You’re protected, but the others are not. There are many malicious spirits here and I have no control over what sort of mischief they might do to your friends.” He gives me a formal nod of his head. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Van Housen. Be careful how you handle your abilities. Someone with your special talents will always be at risk. Your spiritual defender won’t always be able to protect you.”

With another nod, he leads his daughter away by the hand and disappears through the open doorway.

The instant after that I see another form at the entry.

“Anna!”

“Cole!”

He rushes toward me and sweeps me up in his arms. “Why did you come here? Are you insane?” He holds me close, his heart beating beneath my cheek.

“I had to stop her,” I tell him simply.

“We can talk about it later. Let’s get everyone out of here. Harrison is waiting downstairs. I wouldn’t let him come up.”

I sense his rebuke and know I deserve it for bringing Billy without taking into account Calypso’s special abilities.

Billy picks up my silver knife and finishes cutting through the man’s bindings. His mouth is drawn up into a tight line and I know I have a lot of explaining to do.

Cole’s eyes widen. “Jonathon!”

The young man nods at Cole but says nothing.

Mr. Casperson wakes up and I toss Cole a pair of handcuffs. He raises his brows but slips them on Mr. Casperson’s wrists. No use taking chances.

“What were you thinking?” Cole asks as he cuffs him.

Mr. Casperson’s face falls into the lines of a beaten man. “I wasn’t,” he says in a weary voice. “I just did what she wanted. She told me to hold Pratik and I did.”

My stomach churns.

“I’ll check out the rest of the rooms, see if there’s anyone else,” Billy says, avoiding my eyes. He skirts around me and I wonder what’s wrong until I realize he can see Walter, who is still standing by my side.

I face the wan young man who died so young. His cheeks are hollow and his skin has a yellow cast, but I can see where he might have been handsome when he was alive. I can imagine how proud his mother must have been of him.

“Thank you.”

He shrugs and his melancholy drenches me like a soft wash of tears.
“There isn’t much else for me to do but to look in on you from time to time. You’re the only one I can talk to.”

“Isn’t there somewhere else you can go?” I ask gently, not caring if the others think I am talking to myself.

“Some kind of white light? A portal? A doorway?”
Walter shrugs.
“If there is, I haven’t found it.”

“I’m sorry.” And I am. It must be horrible to be able to see people but not communicate. No wonder he stuck close to me.

“You don’t mind if I talk to you from time to time when I can, do you?”
His voice is wistful.
“I can’t do it all the time. I think it has to do with place . . .”

I’m a bit uncomfortable at the thought of having a ghost stalk me, but what can I say? He probably saved my life. “No. That’s would be fine. Sometimes.”

He nods and then with a sad little salute, disappears.

Billy brings out three other young men. All are rubbing their raw wrists where they’d been bound. One of them is sporting a black eye.

A scant thirty minutes later Billy, Cole, Harrison, and I are sitting in front of my hotel in Cole’s motorcar. Cole had telephoned Mr. Gamel before coming and he was waiting for us by the time we came down. He took the other Sensitives, Jonathon, and Mr. Casperson, home with him. I wondered what would happen to Mr. Casperson and then decided I don’t want to know.

Billy opens the door. “Thanks for the rescue,” he says. “Right in the nick of time and all that.”

Cole nods.

Reluctantly I get out of the motorcar. It doesn’t make any sense for me to stay with Cole as he has to go drop Jonathon off, but I am hesitant to leave him. There is so much I want to tell him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I search the darkness of Cole’s eyes. All I am feeling from him is relief and a strange sense of fear.

He nods again and I close the car door, feeling as if I’ve just lost everything.

Billy and I walk into the lobby of our hotel and I know I need to talk to him, to tell him the truth of how I feel.

If I can find the words.

I place my hands on Billy’s shoulders and he turns to me, pain in every line of his body. “I can’t thank you enough,” I start, and he puts a finger against my lips.

“Don’t thank me. I let you down.”

“You did not! You probably saved my life.”

He shakes his head. “The dead boy did more for you than I did. I don’t know what happened there, but I’m sorry for breaking your necklace. Oh hell, I don’t even understand half of what went on tonight.”

“I wish I could tell you . . .”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to know. Just know that I would do anything for you, Anna. You’re special.” He gives me a lopsided smile. “I didn’t know how special until tonight.”

“You’re special, too. You saw Walter. The dead soldier.”

I glance at the clerk behind the desk and draw Billy farther away.

He shakes his head. “My aunt occasionally saw loved ones who had passed on. I’ve seen a couple of ghosts in my time, but it’s not something I seek out. Don’t make more of it than what it is. There are all sorts of things in this world I don’t understand and have no wish to. I have no desire to mess with the spirit world. Not like you do.”

It’s on my tongue to tell him that I don’t want to mess with the spirit world either, but I keep my peace. What if Mr. Crowley is right? What if I’ll always be a target because of my abilities? So I just give Billy a regretful smile and gaze up into the sunshiny blue of his eyes. “Thank you for everything, Bronco Billy. You are one of the best men I have ever known.” There is so much more I want to say, but it’s all tangled up inside, so I say nothing about how much I care for him but that my heart belongs to someone else.

I sense from the resignation emanating from him that he already knows.

The corner of his mouth quirks upward into a sad smile. “Aw shucks, miss. Now you should go get some rest. I’ll see you at the theater, right?”

I nod.

“Then go on with you.” He turns away from me, his shoulders resolute.

In my room, I try to do as he says and even change into my nightclothes, but in spite of my fatigue, I’m oddly fidgety. I sit on my bed, tuck my feet up under my nightgown, and stare out the window at the glittering lights of London. I wonder about Jonathon and the other Sensitives. Would they choose to go to Dr. Boyle, whose greedy ambitions cause him to treat other human beings like cattle? Or would they choose to stay at the Society, where they were only valued for the information they could impart? Why wasn’t there another choice? Would Calypso have been different had she had real family or were Sensitives just inherently more susceptible to insanity?

I had thought all of my questions about my life would be answered once I moved to London to perform my magic, but instead I just have more questions. Should I stay on the tour when it goes to the States, or should I move to Paris and let my mother try to be a real parent? Do I want to attend a university somewhere? What do I want to do with my life? The only real answer I have is who I want to do it with.

Cole.

Restlessly, I get off the bed and, with difficulty, open the rain-swollen ancient window. The storm has passed, making the London night look washed clean, and I stare out at the lights, as brilliant as stars. The small side street that the hotel is located on is empty and quiet. I shiver as the chill of the air hits my skin, but it feels so fresh that I lean farther forward into the darkness, waiting, as if I’m on the edge of the cliff that is the rest of my life.

Suddenly the lights of a motorcar turn the corner. My heart leaps up in my throat because I know who it is before it even comes to a stop in front of the hotel.

Without thinking, I turn and race down the stairs and across the lobby past a surprised clerk, my nightgown billowing out behind me. The night air chills my skin but I ignore it.

“Anna!”

I leap into Cole’s arms and he catches me up close to him. For a long moment neither one of us speaks as our psychic connection is made. Time slows and is measured only in the strong, beloved heartbeat against my ear.

I’m not sure how long we stay that way before he loosens his grip just a touch so that I slide down his body until my bare feet touch the ground. I know we have to talk, that there are things that must be said, but I also know from the lilting happiness inside me that it will be all right in the end.

“Are you in love with him?” he asks first. The pain in his voice brings tears to my eyes. I know I need to choose my words very carefully. There are disadvantages to having someone you love be able to feel what you feel.

I stare into his eyes, letting him see, as well sense, what I am feeling. “I could love Billy if I let myself. He’s a wonderful friend and a wonderful man and he understands things about me that you won’t ever understand.”