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“Dude, you going to turn off the ignition?” Jack asks as he eyes the steering column. He rode shotgun this morning, stealing the front seat out from under me. I’m not sure what’s worse, having to sit in the back, or that Cooper doesn’t seem to notice I’m not next to him. “Hello, earth to Coop.” Jack snaps his fingers next to Cooper’s ear.

Cooper jerks his head toward Jack. “Huh? What?”

“The car’s still running. I just wondered if you’d noticed.”

“Oh, yeah.” Cooper kills the engine.

Jack laughs. “I was worried for a second that you weren’t planning on coming with us. Now that The Creep’s gone, I’m all for hanging at Miss D’s and helping her around the house, but from everything I’ve heard about that Taneea chick, I’m not psyched to hang with her on my own.”

I’d forgotten they’ve never met in person. Leaning forward between the two front seats, I pat his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’d never sic her on you.” Though if we’re lucky she’s ditched her great-grandmother again to go on one of her mysterious walks.

“What? You’re not into crazy train?” Cooper chuffs out a laugh, but it doesn’t have its usual lightness. But it’s a good sign because at least he’s trying.

“No thanks, I’ve had enough of that this summer. Though she is smoking hot.” Jack grins.

I grunt as I shake my head. “Then you deserve whatever happens to you.” Picking up my messenger bag, I open the back door and slide out.

“Miss Delia, I’m here,” I call as I open the screen door and walk inside. Glancing around, I look for Taneea. She’s not in the living room. A quick scan down the hall reveals the two bedroom doors are open and so is the door to the tiny bathroom. Since I’m guessing Miss Delia hasn’t allowed her in the kitchen yet, she’s not home. Bonus.

Flipping open my messenger bag, I pull out the glass vial that contains the first batch of my special tea, a custom blend intended to boost my energy and make conjuring easier. Miss Delia’s spell book didn’t have a specific recipe I could follow, so I created one of my own with ginseng for energy and, to strengthen my immune system, a few grains of paradise to ward off unnatural illness, and bearberry to activate my gift to heal.

After unscrewing the bottle, I swig a couple mouthfuls of the muddy-green liquid. The bitter, tangy taste zaps my tongue. Tucking the vial back into my bag, I shut my eyes and wait for a moment to see if anything happens. I’m not sure how fast it’s supposed to work, but after thirty seconds, all I’ve detected is the sound of my own breath. Maybe it wasn’t strong enough, or perhaps I should have drunk more, but so far I’m thinking this batch might be a dud.

I push through the swinging door to the kitchen. Miss Delia is rolled up next to the worktable, peering over her spell book. A few hot charcoal briquettes burn in the bottom of the ancestors’ mortar. Their smoky aroma fills the air.

“Morning.”

She starts, clasping her hand to her chest. “Lord above! You can’t sneak up on an old woman like that.” Her super-thick lenses magnify and distort her eyes.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me come in.” I can’t help but chuckle at how adorable she looks in those glasses.

She yanks off her goggle-like specs. “If I had, do you think I’d be gasping for air like a boo hag had been riding my chest?”

Ew, the boo hag, an evil creature that sheds its skin and slips into your house, climbs up on your chest, and rides you while you’re sleeping, sucking the life from you. Most times, the boo hag siphons just enough to regenerate itself, but sometimes it goes too far, draining you dead. Occasionally, it jumps into the newly lifeless skin, taking over the body and impersonating its victim. It’s sort of the Gullah version of a vampire on steroids. Normally, I’d laugh off the idea, but after the plateyes and The Creep, anything’s possible. Though I’m not super-psyched to meet their version of a zombie.

I swallow my laughter. “You’re not really scared a boo hag will come in here, are you?”

She shakes her head. “Not in my house. I’ve worked too many protective charms for one of those foul, slimy creatures to get near. If one is foolish enough to come close, I’ve got plenty of salt and brooms to take care of them.”

“Huh?” She’s a master root worker and she’s going to rely on salt and brooms?

“Salt burns their skin and will even kill one if you’ve got enough of it. Otherwise, you’ve got to draw the vile monster into the sun without its victim’s skin and fry it up like a catfish.”

My stomach churns. Up until this second, I loved catfish. Not anymore. “And what do you do with the broom? Sweep up the ashes?”

She smiles. “Believe it or not, it’s to distract them. They’re cruel, wicked creatures, but put anything with bristles in front of them, and they’re putty in your hands. They’ll count the straw on a broom until dayclean,” she says, using the Gullah term for dawn.

I stare hard. “Seriously?”

She smirks. “Yes. They’re devilish but easily distracted. That’s why I’ve got a broom in nearly every room in the house.”

Now that I think about it, she does. There’s one on both the front and back porches, in the kitchen and living room, and even one in her bedroom. I thought she was just really into sweeping, but now I see there’s another reason for it.

She waves her hand away. “Enough talk about boo hags. We’ve got work to do.”

She’s right. With exactly seventeen days till Cooper’s birthday, we’re no closer to breaking the Beaumont Curse.

Without a word, I grab the bottle of citronella oil on the counter and dab it on my pressure points. I cleansed myself earlier this morning, but it never hurts to add a little extra lemon-fresh purification.

Out the rear window, I watch Cooper and Jack make their way into the overgrown backyard, a shovel slung across each of their shoulders. Cooper is also carrying a giant pair of pruning shears. They’ve decided to clear a path through the garden so Miss Delia can drive her chair around. As usual, Jack is jabbering about something, but unlike normal, Cooper looks preoccupied. It’s almost as if he doesn’t hear a thing Jack’s saying. I’m worried for him. Missy’s death has hit him harder than I expected. Though it makes sense, considering how much it’s reminded him of his mother.

I pull my attention away from the backyard and switch to another, equally depressing subject. “So, I didn’t see Taneea when I came in.”

“Pfft.” Miss Delia purses her wrinkled lips. “She left hours ago after helping me into my chair. Said she was going for a walk.”

“You don’t believe her?”

Miss Delia narrows her gaze. “Child, please. My great-granddaughter has about as much interest in exploring this island as you do joining her on a shopping spree at the mall. She’s found something to keep her busy all right, but it’s got nothing to do with sightseeing.”

I don’t know why I underestimated Miss Delia. Of course she’d know Taneea was up to something. But that doesn’t explain why she’s letting her get away with it.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to let her be alone for so long?” Because I thought the idea was to keep her out of trouble, not turn a blind eye.

“It’s not my preference, but it’s all I can do. Her mother shipped her here to Sa’leenuh to keep her off the streets of Chicago. She got her wish.”

“Yeah, but as small as St. Helena is, she could still get mixed up in some bad stuff.”

Miss Delia smiles. “Sometimes the toughest cases require the softest touch. She’s new here and is still testing the boundaries. If I clamp down too hard and make her stay in the house all day, she’ll run as soon as she gets the chance. Then she’ll find some real trouble. This way, she’s home every morning and night to help me get ready. It’s more than her mother could get out of her.” She pushes on her glasses and turns back to her spell book, a clear sign she’s done talking about Taneea and her issues.