Conjure (13 page)

With the knife in my bag and my single-minded focus satisfied, I suddenly remember the mortar and the reason we’re here in the first place. Stepping away from the medical instruments, I point to the mortar. “Okay, now it’s your turn. But don’t get any ideas about taking anything else. I’d like to limit our criminal charges if possible.”

Cooper empties his palm of the remaining
Semi-Invisibility Powder
. He leans over the Plexiglas barrier, grabs hold of the mortar’s lip, and strains to lift it off the pedestal. It tips slightly but then falls back with a clunk. “That thing weighs a ton. I’m not sure if I can lift it.”

The space between my eyes pinches. “You have to. This is our only chance. Just get it over the barrier, and I’ll help you from there.”

He rakes his fingers through his golden-brown hair and sighs. “All right, I’ll try.” He leans over the railing once more, his
gris-gris
bags dangling, and grips the mortar at its base this time. He struggles to lift it. His shoulders broaden, and his arms tense, accentuating his thick forearms and round biceps as his face flushes like a cherry with the effort. With a grunt, he manages to lift the mortar off its stand and draws it toward us. His arms shake under the weight. Tiny blood vessels rise under his skin at his temples. The mortar inches closer, nearly reaching my extended hands when Cooper loses his grip and it knocks against the barrier. I lunge forward, adding my comparatively feeble strength to his, and together we lift the mortar enough to rest it on the barrier’s edge.

“Holy crap, you weren’t kidding. This thing is heavy.” I keep a firm grasp on the mortar to keep it from tipping off the banister.

Cooper’s chest heaves. “I’m pretty sure it’s solid granite. This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I can help you carry it from here. That should make it a lot easier.”

His lungs have calmed, and his face has returned to its normal shade. He shakes his head. “No, it’ll be too clumsy. I’ll carry it on my own.” He nods toward the side exit door, the one we’re gambling doesn’t have an alarm. “You just be ready at the door.”

I nod and wait for him to lift the mortar again. A moment later, he inhales deeply and yanks it toward him, resting it against his abdomen. He takes a few slow steps and groans, then braces himself and moves toward the door. I stand at the exit, my hand poised on the push bar, waiting until the very last second to open it. If there is an alarm, we don’t want to risk it going off until we’re able to run. Cooper ambles close. Two steps, and he’s near enough to tap the door with his foot. He nods, giving me the signal to push it open.

My heart races as my hand connects with the cold steel, and I push it open into the bright afternoon sun. I burst outside and hold the door for Cooper.

The silence feels strange. No alarms, no screaming guards, no police waiting to catch us red-handed. It’s almost too easy. But this is exactly what we hoped for, so I’m not going to second-guess it. Miss Delia’s hoodoo magic must be working.

Cooper shuffles through the doorway with the mortar, the muscles in his arms on the brink of bursting. The door shuts, and I search for Jack, anxious to get into the car and away from here as fast as possible. But my stomach drops when I remember he’s parked at the front of the building. There’s no way Cooper can carry this to the car. First, it’s way too heavy, and second, we can’t risk being seen by the guards. I dig into my bag, carefully avoiding the sharp knife’s blade, and fish out my cell phone, pushing the speed dial to ask Jack for a pickup.

A familiar low growl rumbles from the woods behind the museum, which is more than a football field away, shooting chills up my spine. This time the growl is heavier, thicker and deeper. I swallow hard. Cooper’s gaze whips to the tree line. Despite the fact that his face is red from the weight of the mortar, he somehow manages to look ashen.

“We can’t just wait here.” Cooper’s voice is tight and strained as he hitches the mortar higher on his hips.

“Emma?” Jack calls through the phone. “It’s about time. Do you realize how hot it is out here? Where are you guys?”

The growling intensifies. Two giant black dogs emerge from between the slash pines. Like identical twins, each has the same long, glossy fur and eyes that gleam with fluorescent yellow light. As if programmed, they bare their jagged teeth at the same time, curling their lips and snarling as gooey white froth drips from their mouths. I lift the shaking phone to my ear. “We need you, Jack,” I whisper. “Around the side of the building.
Now
.”

He huffs. “Do you have the mortar? Because I don’t care whether you think it’s safe or not. You better get back in there and get it. While you two were playing tourist, that strip of skin exploded all over me and burned through my shorts. You’re lucky I managed to keep it off the leather, because Beau—”

“Jack!” I interrupt his monologue. “Get your butt over here
now
!”

“You didn’t answer me. Do you have—”

“Now!” I yell and hang up.

The gigantic demon dogs stalk in unison, approaching the edge of the parking lot.

How could Jack not hear the panic in my voice? I jam the phone into my bag and turn to Cooper, who’s braced against the museum’s exterior wall, trembling under the weight of the granite mortar.

A car engine starts in the distance, and a moment later, the dogs snarl in eerie harmony, their deep, ferocious voices melding in gravelly resonance. Their yowling boomerangs across the nearly empty parking lot, bouncing off the building wall, and echoing through the still summer air. They crouch low, their eyes narrowing into electric slits. Like spring-loaded fiends, they quiver, waiting to pounce.

“Emma, they’re coming,” Cooper’s voice shakes. His eyes skitter around, frantic, searching for Jack and the car. Tires screech somewhere on the other side of the building.

Where is Jack? He should be here by now. But then I remember he doesn’t know what he’s doing behind the wheel of my dad’s truck, much less a car he’s never driven before.

The dogs lurch forward in a full gallop, pounding the ground as they charge toward us.

Chapter Seventeen

I reel and collide against Cooper and the outside wall. We’re trapped. My pulse pounds. The woods aren’t an option—there’s no telling how many other psycho dogs are in there, waiting to pounce—and we can’t run to the front of the building where we’d get caught with the mortar. We’re stuck, and we’re about to be eaten.

The station wagon hurtles around the back of the museum, careening straight at us. Jack went to the wrong side of the building. My mind screams
hurry, hurry, hurry
!

The dog-beasts close in, gaining yards with each tremendous stride of their enormous legs. Their massive jaws snap open and shut, exposing their sharp teeth in a terrifying demonstration of what they’ll do when they get here.

Speeding toward us, the station wagon swerves at the last moment, wedging itself between the demons and us. The brakes squeal, and Jack stretches toward the open passenger window. “Get in!” His eyes are wide with fright.

I yank the back door open and whirl out of the way so Cooper can heave the mortar across the backseat. It bounces once against the far cushion, then ricochets off the opposite door. I dive in after it. Cooper follows close behind, his heaving chest smashing into me, as he throws out his arm and slams the door.

The dogs howl and launch their gigantic bodies against the back half of the car. The station wagon rocks under their weight.

“Drive, Jack!” I yell, scrambling to right myself, but I’m sandwiched between the stone mortar and Cooper’s almost equally hard abs. But Jack doesn’t take his foot off the brake or step on the gas. Instead, his mouth is agape, frozen.

Vicious barking assaults the air with staccato bursts of bloodthirsty hate. Intent on tearing us apart, and undeterred by the closed car door, the dogs stand on their hind legs and furiously claw at the back windows. I cringe and scream as thick white foam spews from their colossal mouths, caking the glass and their dirty paws. Up close, their strange yellow eyes are even more frightening. Although they crackle with energy and promise a deadly electric charge, they’re hollow and expressionless. Dead.

Cooper reaches forward and slaps Jack’s shoulder. “Go!”

At the same moment, one of the dogs slides toward the open driver’s-side window. Its sharp nails breech the cabin and just miss scraping Jack’s face. Jolted out of his paralysis, he screams and punches the accelerator. The car jerks forward, and Cooper and I slam against the backseat. Jack’s hands quake as he steers, turning the wheel too far to the left and carves a doughnut hole in the parking lot blacktop. The dogs snarl and lunge as we loop around.

“Cut it straight!” Cooper cries. For once, Jack obeys without hesitation, fishtailing as he speeds toward the exit and skids into the turn onto Sea Island Parkway.

The dogs give chase, but we’re going so fast, we leave them in our dust. In the distance, two uniformed figures round the corner from the front of the museum and stop short where Cooper and I were standing just a few moments ago. But we’re long gone, and so are the dogs, and that’s all that matters. With a shuddering sigh, I slump into the seat, my arm wedged against Cooper’s. My heart’s racing, and for once, it’s not because of him. After stealing the knife and mortar and escaping those hellhounds, we’re lucky to be alive. I shut my eyes and try not to imagine all the things that could have happened.

Cooper grabs my hand. “We did it, Emmaline!” His voice is bright as he stares for a second, then squeezes me in a tight hug.

Uh, okay. Since I don’t get many chances, I’m not about to miss this one. I wrap my arms around his broad back and embrace him, nuzzling against his neck. He grasps me tight, overloading my brain with ecstasy. A long moment later, he pulls back and flashes that amazing, blissful, gorgeous smile of his. I’m not sure if he’s proud of our larceny or if he’s just happy we eluded jail or death. Either way, I have to agree with him.

I nod and find myself slipping into one of those huge, apple-cheeked grins, too. “Yeah, we did. And we didn’t get eaten.” I laugh.

Jack stares at us in the rearview mirror. “What the heck happened? And what were those things? They could have killed us.” The car swerves sharply to the right, onto the thin shoulder on the side of the road.

“Hey, pay attention!” Cooper yells, then sinks back into the seat when Jack rights his steering. Cooper’s still got a firm grip on my hand, which is, of course, all right with me. “They’re the psycho dogs we tried to tell you about.”

I lean forward enough for Jack to hear, but not so far that I’ll risk losing Cooper’s grasp. “Yeah, remember the day we tried to break the curse but couldn’t, and Miss Delia collapsed, but you didn’t care why? Well, that day there was only one of those disgusting creatures. Today he brought a buddy. Aren’t we lucky?”

Jack gulps and clenches the wheel. “And Miss Delia thinks the mortar will get rid of them?” His speech is slow and methodical as he concentrates on the road ahead.

“Something like that.” I settle back into the seat, jammed gloriously close to Cooper because the giant mortar takes up most of the seat next to me.

Cooper laughs. “You should have seen it, bro. Just as we were about to take the mortar in the museum, a pack of kids started tearing up the place, and two guards rolled in, so we had to create a diversion to fool them. And then we hid in the bathroom, and Miss Delia’s magic powder kept the law away and made us semi-invisible so we could steal the mortar.”

Jack hitches his eyebrow and glances into the rear mirror. “What kind of a distraction?” Of all the things Cooper just ticked off (hello—we were
invisible
!), he’s got to zero in on the distraction, the one thing I don’t want him to know. Curse our freaky twin sense.

The station wagon swerves again, this time into the opposite lane. Jack yanks the wheel hard with his gloved hand, turning back to the right. But he overcorrects and tosses us straight through our lane, past the shoulder, and off the road. He slams on the brakes, and the car lurches to a halt on the grass at the edge of the woods. My heart pounds in my chest. Thank goodness this “highway” really isn’t, and we’re the only ones on the road. If there had been any oncoming cars, we’d have been toast.

Cooper lunges forward, letting go of my hand. “Jeez, bro. Watch what you’re doing. You could’ve gotten us killed! Not to mention if you wrecked my dad’s car doing it, he’d kill us again.”

Jack
thunks
his head against the wheel as the engine idles. “I’m doing the best I can. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve only got one good hand. And I haven’t seen Maggie in days. Why hasn’t she visited?” His voice breaks, and his chest heaves silent sobs. A minute later, he lifts his head, sucks up the snot dripping from his nose, and wipes the tears from his eyes. “Look at me. I’m a frigging mess.” He laughs, sounding more embarrassed than amused. “If you don’t like my driving, you can do it yourself.”

Cooper sighs. “I would, but after carrying that rock, I can barely move my arms. They feel like Jell-O, or maybe stretched-out spaghetti. I’m sorry, but there’s no way I can steer.” He slips his hand back into mine and rubs the edge of my thumb.

Um, what’s going on? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind all the hand-holding, but this doesn’t make sense. We’re clear of the museum, so there’s no reason to keep up the charade. Plus it isn’t like Cooper not to help Jack when he’s down. Or to let him keep driving Beau’s car.

But the selfish part of me, the one that’s dreamed of Cooper’s affection for an entire year, refuses to ask the questions looping through my brain out loud. For now, I’ll enjoy this moment and keep quiet.

Jack grinds his teeth. “Fine. I’ll drive, but keep your criticism to yourself.”

Cooper chuckles. “So long as you keep your mouth shut and your eyes on the road.”

…

We drive straight to Miss Delia’s. Normally we park the car on the side road, just outside of the dirt lane leading to her house, and walk the rest of the way. But not today. There’s no way Cooper can carry the mortar by himself. My puny arms aren’t much help, and since Jack’s bony hand is missing its muscle, he’s useless, too. Plus we can’t risk a stroll through the forest in case those maniacal dogs show up again. We’re driving. And praying we don’t wreck the suspension.

Jack does a fairly decent job steering the car through the minefield that leads to Miss Delia’s house. He only hit three holes, which is really not his fault because they were camouflaged by some serious overgrowth. For the most part, the car’s intact, although after all the monster dog drool, dirt, and plant material, it needs a total wash down. I’ve got to admit, this excursion has sharpened Jack’s driving skills way more than our trips to abandoned parking lots with Dad. Maybe it’s the fear of getting caught driving without a license, or the life-threatening demon ditching, but after today, I’d say he’s graduated to almost-menace on the road.

We park the car next to Miss Delia’s bottle tree. Cooper and I roll the mortar across the backseat toward the open door. With a grunt, Cooper scoops it into his arms and wobbles across her lawn and through the herb garden, while Jack and I run ahead to alert Miss Delia. She opens her door just as Cooper climbs her steps.

Her hands fly up in excitement. “My mortar!” She’s so happy, I’m afraid she might try to jump for joy. “Bring it straight to the kitchen.” She steps aside to let Cooper through. Jack goes to follow, but she puts a gnarled finger on his chest and stops him. “I’m sorry, son, but I can’t let you bring that curse in here. You’ll have to go sit under the bottle tree.”

Jack’s face flashes with apprehension. He’s probably just as worried as I am about more devil dogs showing up. Out here, on her lawn, he’d be a sitting duck just waiting to be gobbled up. But she must sense his concern because she waves him off. “Pshaw, ain’t nothing going to happen to you under that tree.”

“Uh, if you say so.” He nervously eyes the enormous oak.

“I do.” Miss Delia’s face softens. “I know it hurts, but it’s for the best. If we’re going to cure you, my home needs to stay purified. Now I know those bottles don’t seem like much, but they’ll help soak up some of that evil in your hand.”

“O-okay.” Jack turns to leave.

“Hold up. Let me see it while you’re here.” She points to his glove. Without a word, he slowly pulls it off, revealing the newly exposed area at his wrist and the bare bones in his palm and fingers. And, of course, the rancid scent of his rotting flesh. She winces. “This is truly an ugly curse.” She reaches out and touches the tip of his index finger. “And now it’s drying.” Shaking her head, she sucks her teeth. “We are running out of time to make you whole.”

Jack’s brow creases. “What do you mean?” He grips the top of his phalanges with this good hand.

She cocks her head as if she’s surprised he doesn’t already know. “The bone will dry and turn to dust, then blow away in the wind. When that happens, it’ll be too late to repair, even if we do break the curse. If you’re lucky, you’ll keep these fingers, but you’ll likely be left with a stump or two. Haven’t you heard the prayer, ashes to ashes, dust to dust? It’s what the preachers say when your soul has departed your body and moved on to the Great Eternal. That’s exactly what The Creep means to do.”

He staggers back, and I grasp his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jack. We won’t let that happen.”

Cooper returns from the kitchen, wringing his hands. “I set it on your island counter. I hope that’s okay, because I don’t think I can lift it again.” He notices the sick expression on Jack’s face. “You okay, bro?” Jack nods, then shakes his head. Tears well in the corner of his eyes as he jams his hand back into the glove.

Miss Delia pats Jack’s other shoulder. “He’s just adjusting to a revelation. One he won’t have to worry about if that mortar does its job. But you’d better sit with him under the bottle tree. It’ll make him feel better.” Cooper gulps. “What’s got you boys so spooked? I thought you were big and tough.” She laughs.

Cooper shrugs. “Well, it just feels so, I don’t know, out in the open.”

Miss Delia sets her hands on her hips. “Do you think I’d put you in harm’s way?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Of course not. I’ve worked charms all over this property.”

As much as I trust Miss Delia and her spells, I’m sort of with Cooper on this one. We’ve already been chased by hellhounds today; we don’t need another round. Her magic should hold, but if it doesn’t, the tree is just yards from the car and front porch. If another dog does show up, Cooper and Jack will see it and have plenty of time to sprint to safety.

Cooper may be thinking the same thing because his shoulders ease as he switches his gaze between Miss Delia, the tree, and his car.

Miss Delia claps her hands. “Now get on before you ruin my good mood.”

Without another word, Cooper guides Jack off the porch and through the garden while Miss Delia and I make our way to the kitchen. Holding her arm to keep her steady, I figure I have to tell her about the beasts that nearly killed us. It’s the only way to explain Jack’s and Cooper’s fear. But I try to keep the news casual so I don’t upset her. Now that we’re so close to breaking the curse, the last thing I want is for her to wind up back in bed, or worse. “You know, we ran into two of those devil dogs on our way over here.”

She grips my hand, scanning me for signs of damage. “They didn’t hurt you, did they? I didn’t give you anything to fight them off.”

I smile and reassure her by omitting a majority of the facts. “No, we’re fine. We outran them with the car. To be honest, it was so easy to get away I debated whether to even mention it at all, but then I thought you should at least know.”

She pats the back of my wrist. “Good girl, although I’m sure it wasn’t as easy as you’re pretending, especially with two at your heels.” She takes another step toward the kitchen. “I expected another
plateye
to show up sometime, but I thought it would be here. Don’t worry about your boys. Thanks to all the protection charms I’ve worked, the
plateyes
won’t be able to get into the house. And that tree’s filled with protective magic.”