Free Born of Deception by Teri Brown Page A

agrees.
    “My friend will pay seven guineas,” Calypso says. The number is half what the salesgirl had named.
    “No, it’s fine . . . ,” I start to say, but Calypso holds up her hand and gives me a sly wink. I fall silent, suddenly suspicious.
    “Seven guineas is fine,” the salesgirl says. She looks at me, her face still pleasant. “Would you like that in a box?”
    Calypso turns to me, her eyes lit with excitement. I feel it shooting off her like sparks. “Oh, wear it out and put your old one in the box. You look smashing!”
    I swallow and hand the woman my cloche. I follow as she takes it to the counter at the front of the store and pulls out a sleek black hatbox.
    “That will be seven guineas,” she says, putting the hatbox into a bag for me.
    Wordlessly, I hand her my money. Calypso is looking at some extravagantly beaded bandeaux near the entrance to the store. I keep one eye on her. She senses my stare and gives me a bandit’s smile.
    After paying and taking my bag, Calypso and I walk out the door. “What was that?” I demand the second the door closes behind us.
    To her credit she doesn’t try to pretend that she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Instead she shrugs and gives me another cheeky grin. “I influenced her.”
    “Excuse me?” I’m no innocent. I’ve seen mesmerism in action, but that woman hadn’t been in a trance.
    “I’ll tell you over lunch,” she yells over the loud motor of a truck passing by. “I’m starving!” Calypso takes my arm and darts out into the street, pulling me along in her wake. She expertly dodges the cars bearing down on us and ignores the blaring horns. By the time we reach the other side my heart is racing.
    I yank my arm out of hers and she laughs at me. “What? Are you chicken?”
    I toss my head but can’t help but grin at her. She reminds me more and more of Cynthia by the minute. What is it about me that attracts such reckless people? “No. I’m cautious.”
    “Same thing, if you ask me.” She pulls a door open and we enter a small, elegant little teahouse. The scent of meat pies and freshly baked scones makes my mouth water, but I remain resolute. She is going to tell me what she meant by influencing that salesgirl. We remove our coats at the table, and I notice she’s wearing a brightly patterned yellow and orange silk shift. The colors highlight her exotic beauty, making her skin glow. Again her hair is tied back from her face with a ribbon and it cascades in a shining mass down her back. Even though I’m wearing a modish Chanel-style suit, I feel frumpy next to Calypso’s fresh, girlish grace.
    After we order, Calypso pours the tea into our delicately painted teacups. I stare at her without touching my cup until she gets the message.
    “Oh, fine,” she says with an exaggerated sigh, looking like a scolded child. “We’ve never spoken about our abilities, so how would you know? I can influence people. Not all the time, and not with everyone, but often enough to make it a true ability. It’s like putting them in a trance or something.”
    She looks away and I open myself up to her but sense no deceit.
    “How old are you?” I ask suddenly.
    Her brows arch, surprised by the question. “Almost seventeen.”
    Just a bit younger than I am. “How long have you known about your ability?”
    Her fingers trace the rim of her cup for a long moment. “I guess I’ve always been able to do it. My mother was easy. She would tell me I couldn’t have another tart and I would wish for another one with all my heart and then she would change her mind. I didn’t understand what I had done. I thought my wishes just came true a lot and considered myself lucky. I guess I was about seven when I began to experiment with it.”
    “And you say it doesn’t work all the time?” My abilities are hit-and-miss as well, though under Cole’s tutelage they’re becoming more consistent.
    She shakes her head. “No. It confused me for a long time