I smile. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.”
He beams. “Great. I can’t wait to show it to Taneea.”
The air exits my lungs in a whoosh.
Cooper turns to Jack. “You guys don’t mind if I take the golf cart, right? I want to get back as fast as I can. She’s been waiting on me all day.”
My mind reels, trying to make sense of what’s happening.
Jack’s brow creases. “Sure, why not? We’ll just drag all this crap back on our own, trudging through the mud in the dark. No problem.” You’d have to be incapacitated to miss his sarcasm.
“Awesome!” Cooper slides the locket into his ridiculous long denim shorts, then takes off in a sprint through the cemetery.
Jack’s jaw gapes as he watches Cooper disappear. “What a sphincter.”
My stomach twists in a knot as reality sinks in. “He’s worse than that. He might actually be in love with her.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Could Cooper really be in love with Taneea? The question has looped through my mind a thousand times over the last couple hours as I’ve tossed and turned, yearning for sleep. The Beaumont Curse was broken, yet he still ran right to her, so I know for sure his feelings weren’t caused by the curse.
Taneea’s beautiful, more experienced, and is closer to his age. Plus she’s got much more cleavage than I do. Most guys would dump a girl like me for someone like her. But Cooper’s not most guys. The Cooper I’ve known wouldn’t be interested in someone who disrespects her great-grandmother, gambles, hitchhikes, or gets thrown out of school, no matter how hot she is.
So then why is he fawning all over her? Spending every free second with her and even changing his wardrobe on her command? He doesn’t even look like himself anymore in those embarrassing clothes.
The image of his frosty eyes flashes across my mind. They’re his, but not his, too. For as long as I’ve known him, their color shifts between blue and green depending on what he’s wearing, but lately, they’ve only held that strange, colorless hue.
And then it hits me: he’s not the Cooper I know. At least not totally. Something is causing him to act this way, and I’m guessing it’s got something to do with Taneea and more illicit conjuring.
I need to talk to him, figure out what she’s done, and try to snap him out of whatever trance she’s got him under. Snatching my cell off my nightstand, I dial his number. Predictably, it goes straight to voice mail.
He’s left me with no other choice. Throwing off the covers, I jump out of bed and race to my dresser, then pull out the only thing that’s clean: my peasant blouse and bohemian skirt. We had our first date in this outfit, a perfect moonlit night on the beach, complete with lots of kissing under the silver moon. Maybe it’s a good omen. With my luck lately, it might be the exact opposite.
Ten minutes later, guided only by the light of the nearly full moon, I burst past the spiny palmetto bush at the end of the path that leads to the Big House. I stop short. Taneea’s tacky, hot-pink truck is in the driveway, parked next to Cooper’s station wagon. Although it’s only a quarter past eleven, the front of the house is pitch-black and quiet.
I’ve come this far. I’d better suck it up and go the rest of the way. It might even be good to confront them together. Drawing a deep breath, I climb the front steps and ring the bell. After a silent moment, I depress the intercom button on the security system, knowing it’ll make every phone in the house ring. Noisy, but it’ll get his attention. After a few long minutes and several more rings, I’m still alone on the doorstep.
I stomp down the steps and turn to look at the mansion. I could go home, convince myself I’ve lost my mind, and give up on this entirely, allowing them to live happily—or not—ever after. Except I can’t. Literally. My feet won’t pivot and return down the path. The only option is to move forward, skirting along the side of the house toward the back.
The darkness is creepy, heavy almost. Even the crickets, frogs, and other night creatures are hushed. Under the gauzy light of the moon, I make my way toward the backyard and glimpse the only light, which is coming from Cooper’s room on the second floor.
Like I’ve done a thousand times before, I pick up a tiny pebble from the ground and toss it at his window. If I can get his attention, maybe he’ll answer the door like a normal person and we can talk.
Though my pebble strikes the sill, he doesn’t look out the glass. I toss another and then a third, but still he doesn’t answer. This is getting ridiculous.
I slump back against the magnolia’s sturdy trunk. Normally these ornamentals are thin and spindly, but under my dad’s watchful and very verdant thumb, this tree has flourished.
A crazy idea pops into my head. I can climb up there and ensure I get his attention. It’s super-stalkerish, but considering I’ve given him every opportunity to respond, I don’t think it’s too outrageous. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
Besides, he can’t get too ticked off at me. I did just destroy the Beaumont ruby, end the curse, and help him reconnect with his mom.
Planting my flip-flop on the lowest branch, I grab hold of a bough at my eye level and begin my ascent. The pink magnolia’s fragrance is faint but delicious, a combination of cinnamon, rose water, and a hint of hyacinth. As I climb in the dim light, my flip-flop slides off the smooth bark, leaving me dangling. Gasping, I clutch tight and fumble to regain my footing. Note to self: flip-flops are not ideal tree-climbing equipment.
Finally, I scale high enough to peek into his window. But I can only just make out the top of Cooper’s golden-brown head across the room. I need to get higher, but the branches are thinner and less sturdy. Biting my bottom lip, I grab hold and yank to test their strength. They’re firm and seem steady, so I scramble another couple feet until I’m high enough to see into the room.
A crow flies into the tree, roosting on a skinny branch several feet above me. Which is totally weird because I didn’t know crows were nocturnal animals. I stare hard at its glassy black eyes, mentally shooing it away before my attention is drawn back to Cooper’s room.
Taneea’s standing in front of Cooper as he sits on the edge of his bed. They’re talking and he’s beaming up at her with those cold, gray-white eyes. He’s wearing a fresh wife-beater T-shirt, a clean pair of long denim shorts, and pristine, lime-green high-tops. Yuck. How many pairs of those hideous things did he buy? My eye is drawn to a thick, silver chain around his neck that I’ve never seen before. It almost looks like one of those metal choke collars for dogs. I guess it’s another one of Taneea’s fashion statements, though I’m not sure what putting a dog collar on your boyfriend is supposed to symbolize.
The crow flits closer, hopping down to a thicker limb just a foot from me. What the heck is with this thing? Aren’t wild birds supposed to be afraid of people? The crow cocks its head as if it’s studying me. Evidently I’m not that scary. Well, that’s about to change because the last thing I need is a nosy bird. Gripping the trunk with my left hand, I swat at the winged creature with my right. With a whoosh, it leaps away, just in time for me to take in the rest of what’s going on in Cooper’s room.
Taneea steps forward and runs her long fingers through Cooper’s soft curls. She must say something hilarious because he throws his head back and howls in laughter. Then he wraps his arms around her midsection and pulls her close, tilting his face up to her. She leans forward and kisses the spot right next to his lips.
Steamy tears well as my stomach somersaults, churning with bile. I want to puke. And cry. And scream. All at the same time. It’s one thing to have wondered what’s been going on between them, and even imagined it, but it’s another to actually see it with my own eyes. And the worst part is that he looks so…happy. Could he smile that wide if he was under a spell?