Born of Deception

Seven

There’s no place left to sit at the table, so people line the walls of the small room of the Society’s headquarters. Cole stands next to me, his hand firmly in mine, as if he wants everyone to know I am under his protection. The connection between us is so tangible and heartfelt; I can feel the depth of his emotions for me. They’re as warm and comforting as a soft blanket wrapped about my shoulders. Is it love? Sometimes I know it is. Other times I’m unsure. Cole isn’t comfortable talking about his feelings and I’m too self-conscious to bring it up on my own.

We’re standing with the other Sensitives—Rose, the young woman who found Pratik’s body; Jared; and Jenny. Calypso hasn’t arrived yet. The board members are at the table, while the rest of the scientists stand at the other side of the table. The tension in the room is so strong my stomach is roiling. Rose is tense and pale after her ordeal. She had gone down to the basement to do her washing and had instead found Pratik. She told me in no uncertain terms that she would tell her story before the Society and then she was done.

After the inquisition by the police yesterday, not to mention having to sleep in the same house where she had found her friend’s body, I don’t blame her.

Leandra sweeps into the room in a chic black afternoon dress with gold embroidery at the neckline and a layered skirt. She’s wearing a black felt helmet hat and her shining blond hair is worn with dashing spit curls on her cheeks. The murmuring in the room pauses for a moment before resuming. She gives me a warm hug. Her concern washes over me, but I still feel that sense of buried darkness. It’s very close to the surface today, like molten lava moving just beneath the earth’s crust. I wonder what would happen if it blew?

“How are you doing?” she asks. “We wanted to come with you last night, but with the bobbies already there, we had to wait until the Yard was informed officially. There would have been too many questions had Harrison just arrived out of the blue. He was there all night.”

I nod. The landlady had called the law before Calypso could call Mr. Gamel. It’s not as if anyone could stop her without raising suspicion. I had been there for several hours, answering questions as well.

Leandra turns to the man who had followed her in. “This is my husband, Harrison. Harrison, this is Cole’s Anna.”

I flush at that and as we shake hands he gives me a smile. He doesn’t look like a detective, but then I’ve never met anyone from Scotland Yard before. He’s not as tall as Cole but almost, with light brown hair and eyes that are as blue as mine. His face glows with a quiet kindness and upon seeing the obvious affection between him and Leandra, I’m a bit abashed by my jealousy of Leandra and Cole. “It’s nice to meet you,” I murmur.

“I see the room is as divided as usual,” Leandra says, looking around.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” Harrison says.

“So do you know why the meeting has been called other than the obvious?” Cole asks.

“There are certain details which make this impossible to sweep under the rug,” Harrison says under his breath as Mr. Gamel calls the meeting to order.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors so I wanted to gather everyone together in order to set the story straight and answer any questions you might have.”

“Any questions?” Leandra challenges.

Mr. Gamel smiles in her direction, but I notice he doesn’t meet her eyes. “So nice to see you, Leandra. Your fine wit has been missed.” He turns back to the other board members without answering her. “I am very sorry to have to tell you that a former member of our Society has indeed been found dead under suspicious circumstances. While this is unfortunate, we still do not have enough facts to say with impunity that this has anything to do with us.”

“I beg to differ,” Harrison says before stepping forward, but Mr. Gamel holds up a finger.

“Please let me finish and then we will open the meeting up for comments.”

“Why don’t you let him speak?” Jenny says. “Isn’t he our investigator on the case?”

“I will let him speak. I simply wish to finish my statement, so our official position is clear.”

“How can you have an official position without even consulting us?” Leandra demands.

Mr. Gamel produces a gavel out of nowhere and pounds on the table. “This is exactly what I had hoped to avoid. Our official position is that we will continue with business as usual, but while we are certain Pratik wasn’t killed because of his Sensitivity, we would like to assure our Sensitives of their value by having them all move here. We have a large, fully equipped flat on the upper floor and we would like to open it up to all of you, for your own safety, of course.”

There is an immediate uproar among the Sensitives, and Mr. Gamel pounds on the table to no avail. Suddenly the door slams and most of us jump.

Calypso looks around, her dark eyes alight. “What did I miss?”

No one speaks for a moment. She’s wearing a simple beige dress made of lace with a handkerchief hemline. Silver hoops glisten in her ears and her hair is piled in a messy knot on top of her head. She stands like a Gypsy princess, gazing upon the rest of us as if we were her subjects. I have to hand it to her: She knows how to make an entrance. Her presence is arresting.

“They want to lock us up in the attic,” Jared says.

Bedlam breaks out again, and Calypso shrugs and comes over to where I’m standing. “This is crazy! Don’t you think this is crazy?” she demands, leaning in to kiss my cheek. She notices Leandra and Harrison. “Oh, hello.”

I can tell by the tone of her voice she doesn’t much like Leandra, though the glance she gives Harrison says she doesn’t mind him at all. I almost smile. Even in the middle of a crisis, Calypso finds time to flirt with a handsome man right under his wife’s nose. I can see Cynthia doing the same thing.

Leandra quivers and gives Calypso a contemptuous once-over before turning back to the argument.

If Calypso notices Leandra’s dismissal of her, she gives no sign because her eyes have locked onto Cole next to me. “Cole! Thank you so much for coming over last night. Your presence was such a comfort.” She puts out her hand not to shake but in a way that strongly suggests that he kiss it. To my surprise he lets go of my hand and does exactly that.

“So glad I could be of service,” he says, his cheeks flushing.

My urge to smile fades as Calypso gazes up at him, looking like an exotic rose. Cole stares back at her as if entranced. I feel no power coming off her as I did in the hat shop, but then, as beautiful as she is, she probably doesn’t have to use her powers of suggestion to attract men. Besides, didn’t she tell me she couldn’t influence Sensitives?

I press my lips together in annoyance.

“Anna and I were so grateful for your presence.”

The sound of my name seems to startle him and he drops her hand.

“Order! Order!” More gavel pounding. Once the room is quiet, Mr. Gamel stands. “Of course, we’re not holding anyone prisoner. I just wanted to offer our protection to anyone who doesn’t feel safe.”

“If Jonathon’s disappearance and Pratik’s death aren’t linked and you think it has nothing to do with us, why are you offering your protection?” Jenny asks.

Mr. Gamel shuts his eyes for a minute and I note the dark circles under them. He probably didn’t get much sleep last night either. “I have said it before and I will say it again. Jonathon left of his own accord. Pratik’s death is a tragedy and I have every confidence that Scotland Yard will soon find the perpetrator of that horrible crime.”

“How can you say that Pratik’s Sensitivity or his affiliation with the Society was not a factor in his murder?” Cole asks. His tone is reasonable, but I can sense his suppressed anger. I take his hand again, remembering that he and Pratik were friends.

Mr. Gamel clears his throat. “I’m just saying that a connection has not been established—”

“What would it take for a connection to be established?” Leandra asks, her voice incredulous. “He was taken from your home under suspicious circumstances and found in the basement of a boardinghouse where several Sensitives live. It’s foolhardy to think there isn’t a connection.”

“I am offering protection to anyone who wishes to take advantage of it.” Mr. Gamel is losing his patience and I wonder why he is fighting so hard against a connection between Pratik’s murder and the Society. Like Leandra, I think this is obvious.

“And why should we trust you to protect us?” Leandra continues. “You don’t even allow us the privilege of sitting in on board meetings that concern us.”

“The main thing is that you are all valuable and the work shouldn’t be interrupted,” Mr. Price says. “We should keep to as normal a routine as possible.”

“God forbid the work be interrupted,” Jared says.

Jenny agrees. “It’s not their lives that are in danger.”

Julian Casperson rises. “At this point, I think it would be imprudent to jump to conclusions. We have offered the apartment only for those who don’t feel safe. Harrison? What is your opinion on all this?”

The room quiets and I note that even the board members and the scientist look at Harrison with respect.

“The details of the murder, which I’ll not repeat here, are disturbing. This looks to be a ritualistic murder of some sort of religious cult, either satanic or otherwise.”

I close my eyes for a moment, light-headed, and Cole squeezes my hand. My mind goes back to the afternoon before and I remember the dark, round item in Pratik’s hand.

“Blimey, are you saying poor Pratik was sacrificed?” Mr. Casperson asks.

Harrison shakes his head. “There simply isn’t enough evidence to know.”

“Do you have any suspects?” Mr. Price drums his fingers lightly on the table, but his sharp dark eyes are everywhere.

“I can’t comment on that. Cole and I will be looking into this on our own, but as a detective with Scotland Yard, I am unable to comment on the actual investigation. However I can say that under these circumstances, everyone here should be careful. We have no proof the two incidents are linked, but I think it would be foolish to assume they aren’t until we can track Jonathon down.”

Jared frowns. “So you think we should move in here?”

“It’s not up to me to decide that. It’s up to each individual. But I’m moving Leandra and the children out of town until we can find out more.”

I glance at Leandra. From the flat set of her mouth she is none too happy about this news.

Mr. Gamel takes advantage of the lull in conversation to reassert his authority. “So you see, it is up to each of you, but if you do not choose to move to the safety of the apartment, please do not move around the city by yourself too much. Even though I am sure this will be cleared up very soon, I want you all to be vigilant.”

Mr. Price frowns. “I have all the faith in our friend here,” he interjects with a nod toward Harrison, “but perhaps we should bring in an expert in satanic cults to assess the situation?”

“Who did you have in mind?” Mr. Casperson asks.

“Aleister Crowley?” Harrison asks.

“Aleister Crowley’s brand of black magic is not welcome here,” Mr. Price thunders, and I startle.

Calypso jumps at the tone of Mr. Price’s voice and she hugs herself nervously, watching the interchange.

Mr. Gamel waves a hand. “I agree that Mr. Crowley’s presence would only further complicate matters. Surely we have enough people with that sort of expertise that we don’t need to bring in anyone else. And, like I said, I believe this whole matter will be cleared up very soon.”

How could a ritualistic murder be cleared up? I wonder as people break into tense groups. I glance at my fellow Sensitives. Their concern is palpable.

I turn to Leandra, whose green eyes are flashing. “I wouldn’t move in here,” she tells the others. “Honestly, do you trust these people? And, moreover, if someone is targeting Sensitives, do you really all want to be in the same place?”

She has a point.

Rose shakes her head, a nervous tic in her cheek working. “I’m done,” she announces. “I don’t want any part of this. I’m better at controlling my ability now and I’d rather take my chances on the outside. My fiancé has always wanted me to leave and now seems like the perfect time. I just came to tell the board my story. I don’t owe anyone, even poor Pratik, anything more than that.”

Leandra gives her a hug. “I would leave too, except I want to be here for new people like Anna.” She nods at me and I smile, though if truth be told, I’m not even sure I want to be here.

I look again to where Cole, Jared, and Harrison are being held in thrall by Calypso and I wonder why I hadn’t noticed Cole letting go of my hand again. My stomach clenching, I say good-bye and join him.

He startles and blushes scarlet when I put my hand on his arm. I know how reserved he is around women and I can tell Calypso makes him uncomfortable.

The question is, is it because she’s a woman or is it because he finds her attractive?

Calypso watches us, a smile on her lips. Is she trying to capture Cole’s attention or is this just a part of her nature? I open myself up and am immediately assaulted by so many emotions my mind spins.

I clutch Cole’s arm. The fear in the room is tangible, and I feel white-hot anger as well as dread and panic. I turn my head this way and that, my gorge rising. It’s too much. I try to close myself off, shut myself down, but the waves of emotion are relentless. Cole keeps talking to Calypso and doesn’t seem to notice my distress. The room dims and a red curtain rises behind my eyes.

Why doesn’t Cole notice?

“Anna!”

I hear Leandra’s voice as if it were coming from far away and my knees buckle. Cole catches me before I fall and a chair appears from out of nowhere. I sink into it, grateful for the support. Suddenly someone is touching my face. The fingertips, cool, comforting, move gently across my cheeks and eyelids, and linger on my temples. My heart rate slows and the curtain recedes.

I open my eyes and find myself staring into Jenny’s pale, freckled face. Her eyes are only inches away from mine and it’s her cool hands against my forehead. “Are you all right now?” she asks, her voice as refreshing and soothing as a mountain stream.

I nod.

Her hands drop to her sides and red colors her pallid complexion.

“You’re a healer!” I exclaim.

She shakes her head. “Not really. I just have an ability to make people feel better. I can’t heal illnesses or diseases, just help comfort those who suffer from them.” She looks down at her hands as if embarrassed.

Now that’s a useful ability in an ailing world.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She smiles.

Slowly, I realize that everyone in the room is staring. Concern fills Cole’s dark eyes as he bends over me, and I resist the urge to push him away. I was in trouble and he didn’t notice because he was too taken with Calypso to see what was right in front of him until I had practically collapsed on the floor.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, my words coming out more tersely than I had intended. I glance around at the room full of people and soften my tone. “I’m fine, really.”

“It’s no wonder you collapsed, poor thing, considering.” Leandra’s warm hand is on my shoulder.

Calypso, too, is by my side. “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asks, worry written all over her lovely features.

I nod.

“Are you going to move into the Society?” Calypso asks.

I shake my head. “No. I’m leaving tomorrow for a few weeks on the road.”

Cole has his hand on my back and he shakes his head as well. “I’m not either. It isn’t convenient and I am going to be doing a lot of investigating with Harrison. Finding Jonathon and figuring out who killed Pratik are our top priorities.”

A thought chills my blood. “But won’t that put you in danger?”

“Don’t worry, Anna. We’re not going to take any risks,” Harrison says. “Now if you will excuse me, I’m going to talk to Gamel before we leave. Will you be all right?” He directs this last bit to his wife, who nods.

“Cole and Anna will drive me home,” Leandra says. “I need to start packing the boys’ things.”

“And yours,” Harrison says firmly.

Leandra gives him a wicked smile and I know she isn’t going anywhere no matter what he says.

Calypso droops dejectedly as she realizes she has been left out of the plans, but I resist inviting her along. I sense that Leandra doesn’t like her.

We drop Leandra off and Cole takes me to my hotel. After parking the car, he follows me into the lobby. Even though it’s as worn as the rest of the hotel, it’s also small and intimate with a deep sofa; a dusty rubber plant in the corner; and a tall, rather hideous lamp that glows dimly through a red-beaded shade. Men are not allowed in women’s rooms, so we take a seat on the couch and are promptly enveloped by the velvet cushions.

Cole scoots over until he is seated closer to me. “Be careful, you could get lost in there.” His eyes crinkle up in a smile and I notice his dark circles underneath. I struggle briefly between concern and irritation. Concern wins.

“You need to rest,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “How can I rest after what happened to Pratik? For all we know, Jonathon could be hurt, or worse.”

I am silent for a moment and then ask hesitantly, “Harrison said that the authorities had discovered certain things . . .”

Cole is quiet, and I can tell he’s struggling because he really doesn’t want to tell me. Exasperation ripples up and down my spine. Of all the useless, old-world . . .

He looks down at me and I know he feels my impatience. “Pratik died of exsanguination.”

I shiver, even though I have no idea what he’s talking about. “What does that mean in English, please?”

“Bloodletting. It means he bled to death. His wrists were cut.”

I press my lips together to hold back a moan.

“Other things were done.” He swallows and looks away. “Things that no one would have done to themselves.”

I shudder, remembering the sunken, sallow tone of Pratik’s skin.

Pressing my face against the wool lapels of Cole’s peacoat, I take in the warm, piney clean scent of him. I close my eyes, wishing that we were someplace far away where no trouble could find us. He kisses the top of my head and I know he wishes the same thing. It’s the closest I’ve felt to him since he kissed me in the motorcar. My stomach churns. After we dropped off Pratik.

Sighing, I tilt my head back. “Were you and Jonathon friends?”

“Yes. We weren’t really close, though. He was in his late twenties, and like many Sensitives found later in life, he was very private. But he was a nice enough fellow.” He leans his head back against the seat. “He wandered a lot. When he disappeared, no one thought anything about it. But now . . .”

My mind races. “You don’t think he’s been held prisoner all this time, do you?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.”

Neither one of us say it but we are both thinking of Pratik.

He picks up my hand and the warm connection we’ve always had is made. My chest pangs as I realize that I’ve felt our bond far too seldom since I arrived in England. Through his fingertips I sense the worry that consumes him. We sit in silence until he turns, his body angled away from mine.

“What’s going on?” he asks quietly. “You seem different.”

I seem different? Irritation brushes across my skin like stinging nettles and I snatch my hand away. “Why don’t we go over recent events to see why I might seem a bit different?” I try to keep my voice mild, but the edginess I feel emerges. “The Society I came here to join is in shambles because of bickering and infighting. A fellow Sensitive disappears and another one is found brutally murdered. I’m working the kinks out in a new routine and going on tour by myself for the very first time. And my boyfriend doesn’t even notice when I collapse in front of him!”

“What do you mean, I didn’t notice? I caught you before you fell.”

“It took you long enough.” I don’t want to mention that he didn’t notice because he was too busy talking to Calypso because I don’t want to alert him that he may be attracted to her. Or that I’m being petty and jealous of someone I genuinely like because she happens to be beautiful.

Cole’s jaw tightens. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we were in the middle of a rather important meeting, discussing the safety of people I care about. I’m sorry I wasn’t completely focusing on you.”

Stung by the harshness of his tone, I stand. “I didn’t expect you to focus on me, but you could have at least noticed I was ill.”

He stands as well, and faces me. The air between us snaps with hostility and exhaustion. “How was I supposed to know? You didn’t say anything!”

When did this get so out of hand? I should stop this; I know I should. We’re both too tired to be having this conversation, but I can’t seem to stop the words issuing from my mouth. “You used to know when something was wrong with me. Maybe you should stop getting distracted by other . . . things.”

His mouth drops. “I’m sorry I was distracted by someone’s death. What is going on, Anna? This isn’t like you at all.”

Everything tangles up inside me. I want him to tell me how he feels about me. I want to be sure of his feelings for me. And I’m angry at my selfishness that I’m even thinking about this right now.

The woman at the front desk clears her throat and I know we have an audience. I close my eyes for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“If you don’t know, perhaps you should have waited to say something until you did.” He nods stiffly and moves to walk out the door.

I catch his sleeve. “Don’t go like this,” I tell him. “I’m leaving in the morning. I’m sorry. I’m just . . .” I pause trying to find a way to tell him that I’m confused, scared, miserable, but nothing comes to me. “I’m just tired,” I finish.

My lame excuse sits there for a moment and he chooses to accept it. “I am, too. And with everything that has happened—it’s no wonder we’re both on edge.” He holds out his arms and I move into them, not caring if the clerk is watching the whole scene.

This is Cole, I remind myself. My Cole. I slip my hands beneath his peacoat and feel the warmth and strength of his body. He rests his cheek against the top of my head and I feel my confusion and anger slipping away. This. This is what I needed. When he holds me like this, I know how he feels about me.

But I need to hear it too. Why can’t he say it?

I close my eyes and luxuriate in our closeness for a moment before he moves to lift my chin.

My eyes meet his. They’re dark and velvety and oh, so warm, but traces of regret linger in their depths. “I’m sorry we fought on your last night here. You’ll be with the troupe, I know, but please don’t go off by yourself, all right? We don’t know who’s behind the murder and Jonathon’s disappearance and if it is Dr. Boyle . . . well, you’ve already been at his mercy once. Just be careful.”

I nod. I know exactly how dangerous Dr. Boyle can be. “You too. Watch your back. Do you carry a weapon?”

He shakes his head.

“You should at least carry a knife.”

He smiles. “I would have no idea how to use it. That’s what I have you for.”

“But we won’t be together.”

His smile fades. “No.” His arms tightens around me and he suddenly reaches down and kisses me hard on the mouth. After a split second of surprise, I kiss him back, trying to let him know how I feel. Cole isn’t demonstrative, he’s far too reserved for that, but sometimes it’s as if the dam breaks and he can’t help himself. He pulls me up off my feet against the length of his body so we are more on level. The feel of his lips against mine makes my head spin and it’s so warm and thrilling that I almost cry out when he breaks away.

We stare at one another while my elevated pulse slows. He places me gently on my feet and then bends down, his mouth against my ear. I wait trembling, for him to tell me that he loves me.

“Au revoir, Anna. Please take care.”

My heart dips in disappointment. “You, too,” I manage.

And then he’s gone, leaving my heart in turmoil.