by Lea Nolan
Still, their energy courses through me in a circular motion, up through one arm, across my body, then out the other side. I draw a huge breath and fill my lungs. Within seconds, I sense the restoration begin in my muscles as my blood vessels deliver rich, oxygen-filled blood to my tissues. I haven’t felt this vibrant in days.
Thick, dark clouds converge over the cemetery, blocking out the stars.
An electric hum vibrates in my chest.
Cooper’s eyes pop. “Oh wow.”
“Cool.” Jack’s voice is filled with wonder.
I smile, elated by the tingling sensation that’s fortifying and repairing my body’s natural balance. “It’s an energy circle. It won’t drain your strength, just recycle it a bit through all of us. Think of it like a circuit. But no matter what happens in the next few minutes, don’t let go. Otherwise, you’ll break the connection and the spell will fail.” I shoot a pointed glance at Cooper, hoping he gets how serious I am and that I’m not doing this just to cop a feel.
He nods. “Okay.” Then grips harder, clutching my hand so tight, his ruby shard digs into my palm.
A jolt of electricity shoots up my forearm, searing the flesh beneath my skin. I gasp and fight the urge to yank my hand from his. Instinctively, I sense this bone-deep pain is due to something more than just the jewel wedged into my hand. I glance into his cool gray eyes. His face is still, as if he’s not aware of my discomfort or the intermittent shocks that zap my skin.
Something doesn’t want to me keep hold of him. Whatever that something is, it greatly underestimates me. I’m not letting go, no matter what.
The breeze kicks up, shaking the trees, and rattling the kudzu leaves like maracas.
“You okay?” Jack asks.
“I’ll be fine.” I breathe deep and try to ignore the ache that’s jolting my arm. “It’s time to start. After I start chanting, you guys can join in.”
Closing my eyes, I concentrate on the smooth glass beads of my collier that lay against my clammy chest. I’m going to need every section tonight, especially the light blue and pink beads, intended to help hear the voice of spirit. If ever I needed my spirit guide, tonight’s the night. Next, I envision the red and white beads that convey the power of spoken word and prayer, hoping they’ll help me get this incantation right. Finally, I visualize the most important section, the purple, white, and black beads, the ones intended to make it easier to communicate with the dead. As much as I appreciated Maggie’s help this afternoon, there’s only one dead person I’m hoping will show up tonight, prodded on by the acacia leaves, althaea root, and holy water.
My mind clears. Lifting my lids, I let the words flow:
“Ancient curse cast at the birth of a son,
Stealing his soul when of age he has come,
Cast in revenge for a hideous crime,
Enduring nearly three centuries of time.
From Lady Rose and her child,
Every Beaumont son reviled,
Through each generation,
Thanks to Sabina’s damnation.
But that ends tonight,
As we beckon the light,
And seek the only power,
That can force the curse to cower.
Nothing’s as strong as a mother’s affection,
It offers pure love and unfailing protection,
So we summon Clarissa to help break this curse,
By calling her spirit and reciting her verse:
‘Your heart and mine,
Forever entwined,
Love everlasting,
Till the end of time.’”
The temperature drops at least ten degrees. A crack of thunder booms in the distance.
Cooper’s eyes stretch wide. “You’re calling my mom?” His voice is breathy and filled with apprehension.
“Shh,” I warn, then repeat the verse from the locket two more times. By the time I’ve completed it, Jack and Cooper have caught on, joining in the recitation.
As we chant, the ground rumbles under our feet. Jack’s grip tightens. He’s no doubt thinking about the last earthquake we witnessed beneath the bottle tree at Miss Delia’s. But that was different. Miss Delia was releasing dark magic from some evil curios. We’re doing just the opposite, evoking white magic for protection. I shoot him a reassuring glance and squeeze him back.
A faint yellow light wiggles its way up out of the ground in front of Clarissa’s grave.
My chest swells with joy. It’s working. I recite the verse from the locket again, this time with more feeling and urgency. Jack and Cooper follow my lead.
The wind kicks up and another blast of thunder crashes, this time closer, somewhere above the salt marsh.
The light brightens as it rises from the rich soil. Finally, it emerges, a wisp of dazzling incandescence that curls up into the air like a fancy cursive s. The clearing fills with the sweet scent of jasmine. The light spins slowly toward Cooper, approaching him tentatively, then hovering at his eye level.
“Emma?” His voice quivers.
I complete the last line of the verse, then pause only long enough to answer him. “It’s okay, Cooper. She won’t hurt you. I promise.” I grit my teeth as I swallow the pang trailing up my arm.
Jack and I repeat the poem again, watching as the light encircles Cooper, coils around his arms and torso, then nuzzles his face and hair. It finally comes to rest in the crook of his chest and shoulder.
“It’s her,” he whispers. In the candlelight, a tear works its way down the side of his face. He gazes at the shimmering light. “I’ve missed you so much, Mom.”
Ignoring the hot sensation that’s stinging my eyes, I concentrate on Clarissa’s poem, since I’m sure it’s the key to breaking the curse.
The shimmering light slides away from Cooper, then hovers above the candle on her gravestone. Though it’s just a formless wisp of brilliance, it seems to nod at me, as if it’s waiting for me to take the next step.
Except I’m not sure what that is. I’ve barely gotten us this far, and I don’t have a clue what’s supposed to happen next.
The light nods at me again.
The ruby fragments in my palms suddenly feel cool. It’s a welcome relief for the shock flares that keep racing up my arm from Cooper’s touch. Within seconds, the jewels’ temperature drop again from a comforting chill to frigid.
I suck in a breath at the sensation that’s so cold it’s burning. “Do you guys feel that?” I whisper, as they continue to chant.
“Feel what?” Jack whispers back.
“Never mind.” It must be the work of my spirit guide though I’ve got no idea what she’s trying to say.
My fingertips sting. A supersized brain-freeze grips my head like a vise. My right hand, the one in Cooper’s grasp, spasms from the competing signals that convey hot and cold. I want to let go, but I fight the urge, knowing it’ll break the connection and ruin the spell. Competing forces clash. Against my will, my hand flips over, the ruby fragment clutched between my fingers. The back of my hand is still pressed against Cooper’s palm, maintaining our link.
I wrench my hand to twist it back over, but it won’t move.
Fast as a whip, Clarissa’s spirit bounces toward the uncovered ruby and then wraps around our entwined hands. A second later, the radiant light leaps to each of our joined hands, spiraling around our wrists.
She must want to see the rubies.
“Open your hands, but don’t break the connection,” I whisper, then slip back into the chant. Following my example, they each lift one palm, allowing it to cradle their ruby fragment.
The long, curly light rolls itself into a tight, shimmering ball. The glow intensifies and brightens, then starts to pulse.
Thunder blasts overhead, rattling my chest.
Suddenly the orb shoots three long flares that stretch down to our open palms. The light dances on my hand. It’s warm and effervescent and tickles my skin. An instant later, all three beacons grab hold of the ruby pieces like tractor b
eams and reel them in toward the center of the bright yellow light.
Jack’s jaw drops. “Holy crap.”
I can’t help but laugh because he’s expressed my sentiment, and most likely Cooper’s, perfectly. Defying gravity is sort of a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
As the rubies grow closer together, their momentum speeds until they finally click together like a three-piece jigsaw. If it weren’t for the fissure lines along each break, I’d think the Beaumont ruby had been miraculously repaired. The fiery-red stones gleam in the spirit’s light.
Lightning strikes, sending a jagged bolt of white electricity into the cemetery just outside our Magic Candle circle.
Jack, Cooper, and I start from the noise. A high-pitched squeal escapes my throat. But rather than slip from each other’s grasp, the jolt only causes us to interlace our fingers and clutch harder.
Rain falls, spattering the surrounding kudzu and dotting the newly cleared plot below our feet. I tilt my head toward the shadowy black sky. The cool drops dot my forehead and eyelashes, refreshing my sticky skin.
As my nerves settle, I recite the poem from the locket once again. The words seem to fuel the orb’s power. Its yellow hue brightens and flashes like a miniature sun. The ruby cluster spins in midair. Revolving clockwise, the jewels gains momentum. As it whirls in a tight spiral, the rubies’ color dims to a dull brick red.
The wind blasts and the sky opens up, dumping a deluge on the clearing. My hair plasters against my head and my clothes are drenched as fat, heavy raindrops pelt the ground so hard, they ricochet and slap my bare legs. Somehow the white altar candle and mullein torches withstand the assault, burning as bright as ever.
A shriek emits from the center of the light, as if the ruby pieces are screaming and begging for their lives. In response, the light appears to rotate faster, whipping the gems around like a centrifuge ride at an amusement park.
The stones’ color fades further, first to a murky cayenne, then to a muddied garnet. The shrieking continues through each change, as if the life is literally being squeezed from each mineral.
Thunder crashes, followed by another lash of lightening a millisecond later. The storm is right on top of us. Hail drops from the sky, peppering the clearing, and my head, with tiny, rectangular-shaped ice cubes.
Ice! It’s the final ingredient we need to break the Beaumont Curse.
Jack and Cooper seem to make the same connection. Squinting against the onslaught of slashing hail, their chanting picks up speed, driving the rubies’ gyration even faster. All color and fire drains from the stones, leaving them as lackluster and muted as a hunk of dried black lava.
Within a few moments, the clearing is blanketed in frozen white crystals. Frost grows on the still spinning jewels.
A flash of light bursts. The stones implode on themselves as an earsplitting crack reverberates through the cemetery. A flurry of pale yellow jasmine petals scatter to the ground and cover the hail.
The sky quiets, turning off the hail and rain like a spigot. The wind stills and the clouds part, revealing the twinkling stars above.
I gasp and blink at the dirt, searching for the rubies. They’re gone. Replaced by beautiful, sweet-smelling flowers.
The yellow orb unwinds and zips toward Cooper once again, curling itself around his body from his head to his toes. Unfurling itself, it hovers at his chest, then reaches out to place its energy on his heart. Cooper heaves a huge breath. “I love you, too, Mom. I always will.” His bottom lip quivers.
The light retracts and then drifts back to hover above Clarissa’s grave. It pauses for a moment and then slips back down into the ground.
The flame on the white altar candle extinguishes.
“What just happened?” Jack asks, breathless.
“I’m pretty sure we just broke the Beaumont Curse.” I heave for air as my pulse rages.
A blood-blistering scream echoes in the distance, sending terrified shivers over my body. Vaguely familiar, it seems almost animalistic, though I can’t be sure.
Glancing at the guys, it’s clear they didn’t hear it. So rather than freak them out, I’m going to chalk it up to my utter exhaustion and assume my ears are playing tricks on me.
Jack releases my hand. “Dude, you’re free!” He raises his palm for a giant high five, but Cooper doesn’t move. Instead, he’s frozen in place, probably in major shock.
I glance up at him, afraid of what I’ll find. My heart skips a beat.
He’s beautiful. His face is filled with joy and gratitude, and most importantly, peace. Pulling me close, he clutches me tight to his chest. A shock of pain jolts through me just as my nose fills with the fragrant scents of jasmine mixed with summer rain and his piney deodorant. Strange, I’d thought the zapping would be over by now. But it’s probably just a function of my unbalanced energy and nerve-jangling fatigue.
“Thank you, Emmaline,” he gushes in my ear, his warm breath shooting sparks up my neck. “You did more than just break the curse. You gave me back my mom. Even though it only lasted a few minutes, I know she’ll always be with me. I’ll never forget that as long as I live.”
Even though his touch still hurts, my heart soars. My Cooper is back. I was right—the Beaumont Curse was behind his foul attitude and absurd Taneea distraction. This is officially the best day ever.
“You’re welcome.” Squeezing him tight, I ignore the pangs as I clasp my arms around the thick muscles that line his back. “But I couldn’t have done it without you and Jack. We did it together.” Pulling back, I meet his gaze. My breath catches. His eyes are still that strange light gray, nearly as colorless as the hail scattered on the ground. Shouldn’t they have gone back to normal by now?
“Yeah, I guess we did.” He releases me and steps to Clarissa’s gravestone, picking up her locket, which doesn’t appear to have been impacted by the rain or hail. “Can I have this now?”
I smile. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”
He beams. “Great. I can’t wait to show it to Taneea.”
The air exits my lungs in a whoosh.
Cooper turns to Jack. “You guys don’t mind if I take the golf cart, right? I want to get back as fast as I can. She’s been waiting on me all day.”
My mind reels, trying to make sense of what’s happening.
Jack’s brow creases. “Sure, why not? We’ll just drag all this crap back on our own, trudging through the mud in the dark. No problem.” You’d have to be incapacitated to miss his sarcasm.
“Awesome!” Cooper slides the locket into his ridiculous long denim shorts, then takes off in a sprint through the cemetery.
Jack’s jaw gapes as he watches Cooper disappear. “What a sphincter.”
My stomach twists in a knot as reality sinks in. “He’s worse than that. He might actually be in love with her.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Could Cooper really be in love with Taneea? The question has looped through my mind a thousand times over the last couple hours as I’ve tossed and turned, yearning for sleep. The Beaumont Curse was broken, yet he still ran right to her, so I know for sure his feelings weren’t caused by the curse.
Taneea’s beautiful, more experienced, and is closer to his age. Plus she’s got much more cleavage than I do. Most guys would dump a girl like me for someone like her. But Cooper’s not most guys. The Cooper I’ve known wouldn’t be interested in someone who disrespects her great-grandmother, gambles, hitchhikes, or gets thrown out of school, no matter how hot she is.
So then why is he fawning all over her? Spending every free second with her and even changing his wardrobe on her command? He doesn’t even look like himself anymore in those embarrassing clothes.
The image of his frosty eyes flashes across my mind. They’re his, but not his, too. For as long as I’ve known him, their color shifts between blue and green depending on what he’s wearing, but lately, they’ve only held that strange, colorless hue.
And then it hits me: he’s not the Cooper I know. At least n
ot totally. Something is causing him to act this way, and I’m guessing it’s got something to do with Taneea and more illicit conjuring.
I need to talk to him, figure out what she’s done, and try to snap him out of whatever trance she’s got him under. Snatching my cell off my nightstand, I dial his number. Predictably, it goes straight to voice mail.
He’s left me with no other choice. Throwing off the covers, I jump out of bed and race to my dresser, then pull out the only thing that’s clean: my peasant blouse and bohemian skirt. We had our first date in this outfit, a perfect moonlit night on the beach, complete with lots of kissing under the silver moon. Maybe it’s a good omen. With my luck lately, it might be the exact opposite.
Ten minutes later, guided only by the light of the nearly full moon, I burst past the spiny palmetto bush at the end of the path that leads to the Big House. I stop short. Taneea’s tacky, hot-pink truck is in the driveway, parked next to Cooper’s station wagon. Although it’s only a quarter past eleven, the front of the house is pitch-black and quiet.
I’ve come this far. I’d better suck it up and go the rest of the way. It might even be good to confront them together. Drawing a deep breath, I climb the front steps and ring the bell. After a silent moment, I depress the intercom button on the security system, knowing it’ll make every phone in the house ring. Noisy, but it’ll get his attention. After a few long minutes and several more rings, I’m still alone on the doorstep.
I stomp down the steps and turn to look at the mansion. I could go home, convince myself I’ve lost my mind, and give up on this entirely, allowing them to live happily—or not—ever after. Except I can’t. Literally. My feet won’t pivot and return down the path. The only option is to move forward, skirting along the side of the house toward the back.
The darkness is creepy, heavy almost. Even the crickets, frogs, and other night creatures are hushed. Under the gauzy light of the moon, I make my way toward the backyard and glimpse the only light, which is coming from Cooper’s room on the second floor.
Like I’ve done a thousand times before, I pick up a tiny pebble from the ground and toss it at his window. If I can get his attention, maybe he’ll answer the door like a normal person and we can talk.