Allure (The Hoodoo Apprentice #2) (Entangled Teen) (22 page)

He glances down at me and seems to remember why I’m in his arms. Sprinting to the hall bathroom, he places me gently in the tub. The shocking jolts mercifully stop as Cooper pulls down the shower wand and turns on the water. It runs frigid at first, but it feels good against my inflamed skin. He sprays the water all over my skirt and legs, rinsing the nasty black gunk off my clothes and down the drain. When the worst of the sludge is gone, he hands me the wand, a bottle of shampoo, and a washcloth.

“You finish up and I’ll get you some clean stuff to wear, okay?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

He pulls the shower curtain to give me privacy, then darts out of the room. By the time I’m through with the shower, I find a fresh T-shirt and drawstring shorts and two towels on the counter.

It takes longer than normal to dry myself and get dressed. When I flip my hair to wrap it in a towel, my head thumps. I clutch the side of the wall for support as I inch my way out of the bathroom. I should probably ask Jack to take me home to bed but the boo hag’s presence has added a bizarre new wrinkle. We’ve got a lot to figure out first.

I make it to the doorway of Cooper’s room. Jack’s perched on the desk while Cooper’s slouched on his bed, already showered and changed into another of his new fashion statements, an airbrushed T-shirt, black pants, and his fugly orange sneakers. I don’t have the energy to look at the Day-Glo footwear, much less comment on them. But I do notice the bizarre dog chain around his neck. And the rumpled covers on his bed. The image of his hands wrapped around her back flashes across my mind, followed by the kiss she planted next to his lips.

“How ya doing?” Jack asks.

I lean against the doorjamb for support. “To be honest, I’ve been better.”

“That black stuff,” Jack says, his brow creased with heavy thought. “We’ve seen it before, right? After Missy died? And on the knife?”

I nod. “By the time we saw it, it was almost dry and much thicker, but yeah, I think it was the same stuff.”

“So Missy didn’t die of natural causes. The boo hag must have done it.” Cooper’s voice is somber.

“Right. And now it wants you,” I answer.

“But why?”

“I don’t know for sure. We’ll need to ask Miss Delia about it, if she ever calls. But maybe it makes some strange kind of sense.” Gazing at his still-icy eyes and fashion choices, I rub my aching temple and search for a way to explain without provoking him. “I came over tonight because even though we destroyed the Beaumont ruby, there are a couple things that make me worry you’re not in the clear. Maybe the boo hag’s got something to do with that.”

Cooper looks at his window, which is now closed and locked. “I know stuff hasn’t been great between us lately, but can you guys sleep over? My dad went to Charleston to get ready for an early morning meeting. I don’t want to be alone.”

Jack smirks. “Then why did you let Taneea leave? Maybe she could have protected you.”

Cooper’s nostrils flare. “You can say what you like about me, but I won’t let you talk about Taneea like that.”

“Oh really? Well, I’m sick of you dumping us when it’s convenient but then relying on us when your sorry butt is on the line. And not for nothing, but dude, you had Emma, and you chose Taneea instead. What’s that about?”

“Don’t talk about my girlfriend!” Cooper launches off the bed and hurls himself against Jack, who splays against the desktop, scattering the alarm clock, pencil cup, and other items to the floor.

Anxious to steer clear of their tussle, I step away from the door, into the hall. I’d like to avoid another thrashing if I can help it.

Jack and Cooper battle as fists fly and punches land. I’ve got to admit Cooper’s right. Jack is strong, but more important, he’s scrappy. And like a honey badger at a beehive, he doesn’t give up. Jack manages to squirm out from under him and dash across the room. Cooper gives chase, but just as he’s about to make contact, Jack darts to the side. Cooper crashes against his bed, shifting the mattress off the box spring.

Something
thunks
against the wall, then crashes to the floor.

My ears prick, but for all I know that could be another symptom of my epic headache and still-twisted memories. But the stinging intensifies, so I lean into the room. “What was that?”

They stop short.

“It sounded like something just broke.” I point toward the wall.

Heaving for breath, Jack launches on top of the displaced mattress and peeks his head between the bed and the wall. “Is there something you want to tell us, Coop? When did you start playing with dolls?”

Cooper frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Jack reaches his hand down. “See for yourself.” He retrieves a palm-sized, antique, ceramic kewpie doll that’s fractured in two pieces. A tuft of Spanish moss sticks out of the crack that splits its stomach. Jack thrusts it in Cooper’s direction.

I gasp as goose bumps rush over my body. “Don’t let him touch it! Give it to me right now.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

J
ack jumps off the bed and runs across the room to hand me the broken kewpie doll. My heart races as I slide down the wall and sit on the floor in the hallway. Though the chubby little doll has a happy, cherubic face, there’s definitely something scary, even demonic, about its enormous, offset painted eyes. I’ve never seen one of these in person before, but I’ve read about them in Miss Delia’s spell book. This one gives me the creeps. Things are beginning to make sense.

Jack plants himself next to me.

Cooper hovers in the doorframe. “That’s not mine.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. But someone created it for you,” I answer.

“Huh?” He steps into the hall and kneels across from me and Jack.

“What is it?” Jack asks.

“A doll baby. Some people also call them poppets. Either way, they’re used in coercive spells. Depending on what you put in them, you can pretty much make anyone do anything you want.”

“You mean like a voodoo doll?” Jack asks.

“That’s not what hoodoo root workers call them, but yeah,
it’s essentially the same idea.”

“What’s this one used for?” Cooper’s voice is filled with apprehension.

“Only one way to find out.” Grasping the broken ceramic doll, I pull the two sections apart and lay the bottom half on the floor next to me. Its strange black eyes stare up at me as I tug on the wad of Spanish moss that must have been stuffed into its belly through the little round holes in the bottom of its feet. Placing the doll’s top half in my lap, I unfurl the long, green, spongy material on the carpet runner, then pick out the tiny magical herbs and roots that are mixed in.

My thigh warms under the broken kewpie’s bulbous head. By now, I’ve learned to recognize my spirit guide’s clues. Glancing down, I pick up what’s left of the ceramic doll, turn it over, and peer inside. Just as I suspected, something red is shoved all the way at the top. Poking my fingers inside, I pry out the soft, rolled piece of cloth then spread it out on the floor. It’s a two-sided, hand-sewn piece of flannel, cut in the shape of a person and stuffed with fluff. But that’s not the most disturbing part. A tiny photograph of Cooper’s face is glued to its head.

My mind reels. This explains everything.

“What does it mean?” Cooper asks.

I flick my finger at all the stuff I pulled from the moss. “Each of these are used in standard red magic spells to draw love. They’re pretty basic ingredients and generally harmless.” But then I point to the little red man adorned with Cooper’s smile. “But this is different. It’s a poppet that’s obviously supposed to be you. You’ve been allured.”

“Dang,” Jack says.

“What am I missing?” Cooper shoots me a blank stare.

Why isn’t this obvious to him? I lean forward. “Someone put a love charm on you.”

He narrows his gaze. “Someone? Are you sure it wasn’t
you
trying a little spell to win me back?”

My jaw drops and I recoil. “Don’t be an idiot. I’m the one who heard the thing break. Why would I have pointed it out if I had planted in the first place?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe you figured I’d find it when it broke loose and thought it would be better to act innocent to throw off suspicion.”

Jack’s brow contorts. “Dude, you’re messed up. Emma didn’t plant it. I think it’s obvious who did.”

“Who?” Cooper asks, looking genuinely oblivious.

Jack and I exchange looks before we both turn back to Cooper and say in unison, “Taneea.”

Cooper shakes his head. “That’s insane. Besides you don’t have any proof.”

“Hello, what more proof do you need than this?” I pick up the little red poppet and flick it at him but something crackles inside its belly. “Hang on a second.” Yanking on the loose, hand-sewn, red thread that binds the two pieces of flannel together, I poke open a hole, then pull it farther apart with my fingers. It’s stuffed with a few thin strands of Spanish moss. Pushing them aside, I fish around and retrieve a thin scrap of paper that’s folded in fours.

Laying the packet on the floor next to the love-spell ingredients, I carefully fold it open once, anticipating what I’m about to find. This isn’t an ordinary piece of pulp. It’s naming paper used in advanced hoodoo spells. Whoever did this was no amateur. If Taneea was involved, she had help, which I’m guessing was dressed in a sharp black suit and blue sunglasses.

Swallowing hard, I flip the last fold. There are two handwritten spells scribbled on the scrap of paper and two pieces of hair, one golden-brown, the other pink. The first contains Cooper’s name written in script three times in red ink, then crisscrossed with Taneea’s three times in black.

It’s a common
attraction spell,
or
allurement
, used to draw two people together and then lock them in place. It’s bad enough, but the second spell is the one that makes my stomach churn. The words, LOVE ME OR DIE are scrawled seven times down the paper in bold red ink crossed with Cooper’s name in black script another seven times.

Relief slides off my shoulders. At least I know for sure he didn’t choose Taneea over me. But then my cheeks flush with anger. How could she do this to him?

“Is that for real?” Jack’s voice is hushed.

Cooper shakes his head. “No. It can’t be.”

“It is. And there’s more than just her name and handwriting. She combined your
Personal Concerns
together. It’s a very powerful allurement.” I fold it back up so I don’t lose track of the hairs.

His brow crinkles. “I don’t believe it. Taneea cares about me. And I care about her.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “You only think you do. That’s the whole point of the spell.”

Cooper glares at him, his icy-gray eyes look as if they could freeze him on contact. “She wouldn’t do that to me.”

Jack turns to me. “Obviously he’s not thinking straight. What do we need to break the charm?”

“Destroy it.”

Cooper’s chest puffs up. “You’re not destroying anything!” He dives for the folded naming paper and red-flannel man, nearly slamming into me.

“Hey!” I yell, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he yanks the spell components up off the carpet runner, then scrambles to his feet and charges toward the stairs in those awful fluorescent sneakers.

Without my needing to ask, Jack takes off after him.

What the heck is going on with Cooper? First he didn’t believe the charm was real, and now he wants to protect it? This spell is one tough mother. We can’t let it do any more damage. It’s got to be broken now.

Raising my voice, I call after Jack. “Get those things and bring them back to me. No matter what you do, don’t let them get away.”

Jack gives me a thumbs-up as he gains ground on Cooper.

I push off the floor, but I move too quickly, causing my brain to spin. Breathing deep, I clutch the wall and force myself to stand, then make my way toward the hall bathroom to wait for Jack.

Leaning toward the railing, I watch as Cooper approaches the bottom of the flight of stairs. If he gets there first, he’ll be out the door and in his car in no time, on his way to find Taneea and goodness knows what else.

Jack must do the calculation in his head, too, because he yelps and leaps midflight, landing on top of Cooper, simultaneously executing the single most heroic and stupid maneuver I’ve ever seen. Clutching to Cooper’s broad shoulders like a spider monkey, Jack clings while Cooper yanks the banister in his struggle to stay upright. But the force of the impact is too strong and Cooper’s legs give out under him. They tumble down the last few steps, then roll onto the foyer floor.

Jack heaves for air as he picks himself up off the hardwood. He clutches his forearm, which must have gotten slammed.

Cooper rolls on his side, groaning. “I’m going to kill you!” He growls.

“Fine with me, just so long as I get this first.” Jack yanks the little red man and naming paper from Cooper’s hands.

“No!” Cooper yells.

But Jack’s already sprinting up the stairs toward me. Extending his grip, he thrusts the magical items at me. “Now what?”

“Get me some matches. And keep Cooper out of the bathroom.” I turn and amble toward the hall bath, close the door, and depress the lock. Who am I kidding? That’s not going to hold him for long. Spinning around, I look for anything that might buy me an extra minute or two. The tall, narrow, wicker hamper in the corner is my best bet. Moving as fast as I can, I slide it across the tile floor, then tilt it toward the door, wedging its top beneath the knob. Just in time, too because Cooper has already started knocking.

“Emma! Let me in!” He twists the knob.

“No. You need to trust me on this. You’ve been allured. You can’t see things for how they really are.”

“No!
You
need to trust
me
. You think you know everything and have all the answers but you don’t know squat. What Taneea and I have is pure. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I won’t let you destroy that paper. I can’t live without her.” His voice is frantic as he pounds on the door.

I lay the flannel poppet in the dry sink faceup and then spread open the naming paper, making sure the two strands of hair lay across the top.

The red and black writing stares up at me, an ugly indictment of how far Taneea will go to get what she wants.

Love me or die.
That’s it, isn’t it? Cooper will literally die if he doesn’t love her. I don’t know where Taneea found such a sick, monstrous charm or why she thought it would be okay to hex someone like this or if she even realized the danger she put Cooper in. But I’m going to see that she never gets to do it again. I don’t care if it’s my last act of hoodoo, but I will right this wrong.

“Open this door, or I’ll open it for you!” Cooper’s voice booms with feral intensity. He crashes against the solid mahogany with what has to be his shoulder.

Where is Jack and what is taking him so long?

“You’d better stop. You’re going to split the wood or rip it off its hinges. And then you’re dad’s going to be pissed because you know it’s impossible to replace these antique doors.”

“I don’t give a crap about my father or his dumb hinges. I’ll rip this whole house apart to get what you and Jack stole from me.”

Cripes, he really is around the bend. There’s no way normal Cooper would ever express this much disrespect for his family’s homestead.

Finally I hear Jack’s voice. “I’m coming, Em!”

“I’m going to tear your head off,” Cooper snarls.

Jack sighs. “Okay, but do it neatly. Otherwise it’ll make a huge mess.”

Evidentially, Cooper isn’t amused because the next thing I hear is the two of them crash to the ground.

On my hands and knees, I peer through the space at the bottom of the door. From my limited vantage point, I can tell Cooper’s got Jack splayed on his stomach. But what Cooper doesn’t realize is that’s exactly what Jack wants. Jack’s head swivels toward me, his cheek smushed against the carpet runner. Our eyes meet. He slides his palm toward the door. The matchbook is just below his fingers.

While nudging the matches into the crack between the tile floor and the door, he forces a few words. “This better work. Otherwise I’m toast.”

A surge of adrenaline pulses through me, tapping the last of my reserve strength. As the guys wrestle and kick the door, I clamber to the sink. Leaning against the counter, I open the pack, pull off a match, and strike it against the thin dark strip at the back, then toss the kindled match on the hair and naming paper. The enchanted items burst into flame as if doused with kerosene and engulf the poppet. Black smoke rises as the cursed items burn like an inferno.

I flick on the bathroom exhaust fan and watch as the hateful fumes rise to the ceiling and then out of the house.

The guys’ shouts quiet. So does the kicking.

The last remnants of the charred paper and poppet crumble in the sink. There’s nothing left but sooty, black ashes that have been sucked of their fuel.

An eerie stillness expands on the other side of the door.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I turn on the faucet and rinse the last of the allurement spell down the sink. Then I loosen the hamper, shove it aside, and twist the knob to unlock it.

Gripping the jamb, I open the door to find a seated Cooper propped against the wall, his head collapsed in his hands.

Jack’s sitting opposite him, his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face. “Cooper’s back. Or at least he will be soon.”

Cooper lifts his head. His face is a mixture of agony, confusion, and betrayal. But his eyes are a sight to behold. They’re tinged with just the faintest swirl of green. He rubs his forehead. “What happened? I remember…but I also don’t. Things got weird there for a second, didn’t they?”

I exhale the breath I’ve been holding since I opened the door. “For longer than a second. Ever since Missy died.” I step out of the doorway and cross to the other side of the hall next to Jack. Though I don’t try to sit down because with the way I’m feeling right now, there’s a very good chance I won’t be able to get back up. Instead I grip the railing overlooking the grand staircase with two hands, praying I won’t keel over.

Jack nods. “Taneea made you her pet.” When Cooper’s brow furrows, Jack points to his chest. “For real. Look at the thing around your neck.”

Cooper looks down. His lips curl in disgust. “It’s a dog collar. I think we bought it in a shop in Charleston. I remember thinking I didn’t want it, but I guess I changed my mind.” He glances down at his silk-screened tee with the motorcycle print and then squints at his long jean shorts, and flat-out gawks at the orange high-tops. “What am I wearing?” He kicks off the shoes and pushes them away.

Jack snorts. “Your new wardrobe. She made you
pretty
.” He wiggles his fingers and contorts his voice to sound like Igor in a Frankenstein movie. “You’ve got another pair too. Lime green.” He erupts in peals of laughter.

Cooper pinches the bridge of his nose. “Uh. She made me blow my summer allowance on this crap. I don’t think I’ve got any money left,” he moans, as his memories appear to be flooding back.