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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 beams 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?”