Conjure (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen

What the heck is he doing? My lids pop, searching his face for some explanation, but his long, soft lashes are sealed. Before I can react, he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close, leaning in. My heart trips, then takes off at a gallop. Fireworks explode in my brain and body, short-circuiting my senses and shooting tingles over my skin. His bottom lip is soft and yielding, plumper than I ever imagined. Grumpy bellows again, but it hardly registers. My brain is so preoccupied with Cooper’s warm breath and his amazing velvety lip that Grumpy’s words sound mashed and distorted like the teacher in a Snoopy cartoon.

I’ve dreamed of this for more than a year, imagined where we’d be, what I’d be wearing, how it would happen. This is so
not
how it went down in my mind. We were supposed to be on the beach, in the moonlight, and I was supposed to be wearing an effortlessly gorgeous sundress, my sandals dangling from my fingers as we walked hand in hand in our bare feet. But I’m in a museum, on the cusp of committing what’s probably a major felony, and I’m pretty sure my deodorant isn’t as fresh as it was before we sat in a roasting car.

A war wages in my brain over what was supposed to be and what is. One half of me wants to pull away, change the setting, and get a do-over, while the other wants to smack that first half, relax, and enjoy this unexpected but definitely squeal-worthy development. I inhale all that’s Cooper—his crisp, clean cotton shirt, that pine-scented deodorant, even the salty tinge of his skin—and concede the battle as I swoon and my knees sink under his intoxicating spell. His lips part slightly, and the tip of his tongue grazes mine, jolting me with an electric charge. If this is a slice of heaven, I want to die right here.

Grumpy rushes toward us, bellowing louder as he approaches. “You two, stop! This isn’t some make-out joint!”

I try to pull myself away and address the advancing threat, but I’m powerless. Finally, just as the mean old guard is about to pounce and physically separate us, Cooper breaks the kiss. Stunned, I stand there like an idiot, waiting for my heart to stop pounding as I blink at Grumpy.

Cooper clears his throat. “Sorry, sir, we couldn’t help ourselves.”

Grumpy glares. “I knew you two were up to something. And here I find you hiding in a dark corner, trying to get the jump on each other.” He grabs us by the elbows and guides us to the front of the exhibit area. My feet move on autopilot as my brain tries to sort out what just happened between Cooper and me. Grumpy keeps jabbering. “It makes me sick what you teenagers do today.” He shakes his head. “Babies having babies. Well, not on my watch. Let me tell you something: you want to play house, you do it somewhere else, on your own time. This here’s a respectable place.”

One of the girls kicks Smiley’s shin, and he loses his grip as she squirms away and runs deeper into the exhibit. The mother gasps, and the father screams his daughter’s name as they take after her, followed closely by Smiley, leaving the other three kids un-chaperoned. Free from their father’s grasp, the boys battle again, and the girl chases after her sister, mother, and father.

Grumpy has no choice but to give up lecturing us and face the real menace. Granted, we were planning on stealing an artifact, but these little monsters could destroy the place. He grunts and releases our arms. “I’ve got to deal with these here little cretins, but I want you two out of my museum. You got that? I don’t want to see y’all in here again!”

Cooper and I nod and answer at the same time, “Yes, sir.” The old guard leaves us at the front of the exhibit to give Smiley some much-needed backup.

Even though we’re supposed to leave, I’m still so dazed, I can’t go farther than the hallway just outside the exhibit. I slump against the wall, shaking my head to regain some clarity.

Cooper laughs. “That was pretty quick thinking, don’t you think?” He taps his temple. “That old buzzard totally bought it. There’s no way he knows what we were trying to do.” His smile’s a mile wide as he nudges my arm.

My chest sinks. Of course, it was only a trick. A little ruse to throw off the guard. I should have known. There’s no way Cooper would kiss me for real. That would be too much to hope for. And so is my fantasy about the beach and the moonlight and the stupid sandals.

The little wishful-thinking voice niggles at the back of my brain, reminding me how well we fit together when we were kissing. Like he was comfortable with me in his arms. Like he actually enjoyed it. But that voice is as dumb as I was a few minutes ago. The kiss was all for show. And now I’m mortified for thinking otherwise. My stomach lurches, and I’m sure I’ll throw up on the industrial-grade carpet. How could I be so incredibly brain dead?

“Emmaline, it’s all right. He didn’t catch us.” Cooper leans down and gently grasps my arms. “Are you okay?” He strokes my jaw with the back of his hand.

Jeez, is he trying to kill me? I suddenly realize I’m hyperventilating.
If I don’t snap out of it, I’ll faint and end up splayed on the floor. So I shake it off quick, because really, how much more humiliation can I take?

I nod and will my chest to stop heaving. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little scared, that’s all. That guy was pretty fierce.” Forcing a brave face, I try to sound convincing when I add, “Seriously, that was really smart of you. Faking all that, back there, with the kissing thing.” I jab my thumb toward the exhibit and state the obvious as if he might have forgotten what happened. “Maybe you should give up sailing and join the drama club or something, because you’re an awesome actor.” I purse my lips to keep them from trembling. Excellent way to play it cool, Emma.

The guards have finally corralled the kids and their inept parents. Saving me from Cooper’s reaction to my “compliment,” the entire pack approaches on its way to the front entrance. Panicked, I search for a place to hide. The hallway is bare, but the women’s room is just steps away. I grab Cooper’s arm, drag him through the bathroom door, and run right for the roomy handicapped stall.

Cooper’s eyes fill with panic as I latch the door behind us. “What if that guy finds us in here? He’ll kill us.”

I shake my head. “He won’t come in. Judging from his sermon back there, he is obviously too prim and proper to come into the women’s room, much less break down a stall door. We’re safe.”

“Okay, I’m confused. What are we going to do?” Cooper shrugs. “Are we staying in here all day? Because that guy wanted us out of here by now.”

I set my hands on my hips. “I’m not leaving without that mortar. It’s right there. We’ve got to take it.”

He scratches his head. “But as soon as we step out of this room, he’ll catch us and toss us out. Next time we won’t have another bunch of brats to hide behind.”

I sigh and clunk my head against the cold yellow tile wall. We need a plan.

Then I remember Miss Delia’s
Semi-Invisibility Powder
and
Law Keep Away
potion. Duh. They’ve been hanging around my neck, tucked under my peasant blouse the whole time. How could I have forgotten them? I notice Cooper’s not wearing his.

“Where are those
gris-gris
bags I gave you when we left Miss Delia’s?” I tug my own out from under my shirt.

“They’re in my pocket. Why?” He pulls them out of his khaki shorts.

“Because they might be just what we need. See this one?” I slip the white pouch filled with crushed sea spirit seaweed off my neck. “It’s supposed to make us semi-invisible.” He hitches his brow in disbelief, but I wave it off. “Okay, I realize it sounds crazy, but based on everything we’ve already seen, I don’t think we’re in the position to doubt Miss Delia. I mean, if Jack can walk around with a bony hand that still moves, then I’m pretty sure anything’s possible.”

Cooper nods, but his crinkled forehead tells me he’s not entirely convinced. “Okay, how’s it supposed to work, because judging from before, it didn’t. There’s no way we were semi-invisible to that guard. He gave us the hairy eyeball the first time he laid eyes on us.”

I open the pouch and dump some in my hand. A few grains spill onto the stall floor. “Miss Delia said you have to walk real slow and drop the powder as you go.”

He stares at me for a second. “Uh-huh. And what are the other bags for? X-ray vision and shooting spiderwebs from our wrists?”

I frown, disappointment with his unusual Jack-like response squeezing my stomach, and shake my head. “No, the yellow one is for courage and bravery, and the blue one is for keeping the law away.”

Cooper snorts. “Right, because it worked so well with those guards.”

Maybe I’m still mad about the fake kiss, but his pessimism is really getting to me. Okay, there’s nothing
maybe
about it. A burst of stress, fear, and anger explodes in my brain. I set my hands on my hips and cock my head. “Listen, it’s the best we’ve got. Either we stay locked in this stall forever, or we give it a try. So unless you’ve got a better idea, decide which it’s going to be.”

His jaw drops, probably because he’s not used to Angry Emma. Too bad. “Uh, I guess we’ll try.”

“Good. Loosen the top of your blue pouch. Maybe the
Law Keep Away
potion needs to breathe a little in the air.” Cooper drapes all three
gris-gris
bags around his neck. The yellow one lies on top of the others, and I can’t resist a tiny dig. “While you’re at it, open the yellow one, too. You could use some bravery and courage so you don’t freak out like before.” His expression slips, and his eyes soften as he nods and tugs at the drawstrings. Dang, now I feel bad, which is totally unfair considering I’m the one with the crushed heart.

I pick at the blue pouch around my neck, trying to loosen the knot, but it’s difficult because my hand’s still filled with the
Semi-Invisibility Powder
. Cooper notices my struggle and steps closer, taking the bag from my fingers. His lips curve into that sweet, gentle smile of his as he gazes at me through his crazy-long eyelashes. “Here, let me help you.”

My heart skips a beat, softening my resolve. To be fair, I don’t really have a right to be angry with him, anyway. It’s not like I confessed my undying love to him—how embarrassing would that be?—so, he couldn’t possibly have known how much planting that kiss would hurt. And he was just trying to distract the guard and save us.

Tapped out of reasons to stay mad, I sigh, and the last residue of my resentment melts away. “Thanks,” I murmur and offer an apologetic half-grin.

His pale blue eyes brighten. “No problem.” He pauses for a moment, gazing at me as if he might say something else, but then shakes his head and tips the seaweed powder into his palm. “You ready to do this?”

Forcing myself not to wonder what he was thinking, I nod. “As ready as I can be.”

We exit the handicapped stall and walk to the bathroom door, cracking it open just enough to peek into the hallway. Neither guard is in sight, so we slip out, walking slowly and trailing a thin line of powder as we go. My heart thuds in my chest. As much as I believe in Miss Delia’s magic, it’s hard to accept this powder’s going to make us almost invisible. Maybe it’ll conceal us from living, breathing humans, but what about all the cameras mounted everywhere? There’s no way we can hide from the video. Our only hope is that no one’s watching the monitors until we’re gone.

My mouth goes dry as we plod down the hall and into the African Legacy exhibit. With each careful step, the powder slips from my hand in a steady stream onto the museum rug. After what seems like forever, we finally make it to the back corner. I don’t know if we’re semi-invisible or not, but we’re alone and apparently undetected by either guard. The mortar is right where we left it, waiting to be plucked and brought home with us. It’s now or never.

Cooper pokes me in the ribs with his elbow, breaking my concentration. “Emma, take a look at that.” He nods toward a display of ancient tools laid out just to the left of the mortar. “Doesn’t that seem familiar?”

I lean closer to see what he’s talking about. Amid the rough-hewn spoons, measuring scoops, tweezers, and a few other medieval-looking things I can’t imagine how to use is a knife with an ornately carved handle. But it’s not your average vegetable-chopping blade. It looks an awful lot like a dagger. The knife’s grip is embossed with the same familiar scrolls, swirls, and flower reliefs that adorned the treasure box we found in the tabby ruins. The one that gave Jack The Creep. My stomach clenches. I peer even closer and see that some of the scrolls aren’t just decorations—they form the initials
BBR
.

I gasp. “Cooper, look at these letters.” I point to the rounded engraving that runs down the handle. “I think this belonged to Bloody Bill Ransom.”

He leans over my shoulder. “You’re right. But how did it get in here with all this stuff? And what does it have to do with hoodoo medicine?”

I shake my head. “I have no idea. But there has to be some connection.” I stand there for a moment, transfixed, forgetting the ancestors’ mortar. My right palm tingles, then itches. I reach over with my seaweed-filled left hand to scratch it, but the itching only intensifies. An irresistible urge takes over, willing me to reach out and snatch the dagger. But I try to ignore it because one theft is enough for today.

“We should take it,” Cooper whispers, prodding me toward further criminality. My eyes widen with disbelief that he’d want to take anything besides what we absolutely know we need. He shrugs. “Listen, if it was Bloody Bill’s, it could be connected with The Creep. Maybe Miss Delia can use it to cure Jack.”

The itching increases, progressing well past an uncomfortable or even irritating sensation. Now it burns, and as crazy as it sounds, the polished knife handle seems like the only thing that will cool it. Even though the grip is covered with designs, my gut insists it will feel smooth against my flaming skin. I want the knife. I need it.

Biting my lower lip, I extend my shaking red hand over the Plexiglas barrier. A cooling tingle flows down my fingers, prodding me forward, assuring me that everything will be better once I have the knife in my grasp. Inches away, my hand lurches as if out of my control and scoops it up. The burning ceases, replaced by a tranquil wave that floods over my body. Even though we didn’t plan it, I’m sure this was the right thing to do. I tuck the knife deep into my messenger bag, hoping I just figured out how to listen to my spirit guide. Although she could have been a little more subtle.