by Judith Post
* * * *
No insects buzzed at the shores of the voodoo settlement. They weren't allowed. The water had a certain smell, though. Old and slow-moving, sometimes stagnant. Babet wrinkled her nose. She shook her head. The vivid colors of the women's houses always caught her by surprise. A bright, yellow two story had cobalt-blue trim and a chartreuse, front door. A squat, four-square was painted fire-engine red with periwinkle trim. Nadine's tall, narrow house looked like a Halloween decoration—orange with black.
When they pulled to the curb, Nadine and her daughter, Evangeline, waited for them.
Evangeline smiled as they climbed the steps to the front porch. Morgana went to greet Nadine, her former mistress. The voodoo priestess bent to pet the snake.
"What brings you?" Evangeline asked Babet. Evangeline looked happier than Babet had ever seen her. After working with Babet to help save her mother, Evangeline had finally accepted her dual gifts of voodoo and witchcraft. Before, she'd been like Babet, struggling to come to terms with her powers. Now, they each accepted them.
Babet listened as Prosper told them about the wraith and the old Indian woman. It was his story, after all.
Nadine's nostrils flared as she listened. "A coward, using her gifts to harm others who can't defend themselves." Her ebony brows drew together in wrath. She raised her hands, palms up, and called for her spirits. Four flew to her, writhing in and out between her fingers. The first to arrive was Manette—the woman whose lips perpetually turned down. Manette, Babet knew, loved gossip and loved to snoop even more. At first, she'd abhorred the nosey spirit. Now, she'd grown to see her usefulness.
Nadine's instructions were blunt. "Some woman, many centuries old, siphons energy from living mortals. She keeps their bodies alive so that a wraith can claim their spirits. Find her. Tell us where she is, so that we can destroy her."
Manette's thin lips lifted into a smile. Good. The spirit liked this assignment. Babet had faith that if the old woman could be found, Manette would bring them news of where she dwelled.
The spirits whirled off, their mists evaporating in the distance.
Aggravated, Nadine fussed with the pitch-black braids that framed her face. "Wraiths are usually harmless, but this one knew your father had a wife and child. She offered a mortal what some desperately want—a longer life—in exchange for services she knew were vile. And now she wants Prosper."
Evangeline blinked, surprised by her mother's vehemence. "Why does this bother you so much?"
Nadine grimaced. "I hate bullies. Your father intimidated anyone he could and took what wasn't his. Most wraiths are happy, indulging themselves during a man's slumber."
Babet agreed, but she didn't expect Nadine to feel so strongly about it. But then, the voodoo priestess did take in any female who'd been abused. She taught women voodoo magic and how to empower themselves, so that they'd never be victims again. Babet raised an eyebrow in question. "Do you feel as strongly about male victims as you do about the women you rescue?"
Nadine crossed her arms over her breasts. "Yes, but it doesn't work, mixing males and females here."
"I can see that. Chemistry and attraction can throw anyone off course. Once I met Prosper, I certainly went in directions I never expected."
"Not the same," Prosper grumbled. He glanced at the sun. "We have enough daylight for our drive back to River City. That's one dark and twisting road. Hardly any street lights. You'll let us know if you find anything?" he asked Nadine.
Not the most gracious response to Nadine's generosity, leaving as soon as possible, but Prosper wasn't in the best mood. Nadine understood, Babet knew.
The priestess nodded. Evangeline walked them to their car and hugged Babet before she slid onto the passenger seat. "Take care!" Evangeline called. "I'll see you at the next full moon."
"I'll be there." Babet felt relief that Evangeline was embracing her witch powers. The girl had worked long enough with the coven to be proficient, but with witchcraft, there was always more to learn. Babet was still learning.
As Prosper made a U-turn to head back to the city, Morgana curled on the backseat, looking unhappy.
"Are you sad you're leaving the settlement?" Babet asked.
The snake stretched her neck forward toward Prosper.
Babet stroked her smooth scales. "You're worried about Prosper?"
With a bob of her head, the boa sank back down on her seat.
Babet felt just as frustrated. Once on the road, she said, "My bungalow is protected by as many wards and spells as the rings we wear. How did the wraith get past them?"
"She didn't enter the house," Prosper said. "And she never entered my body, so she didn't pass your ring either."
Babet let out a ragged breath. "You should have been protected."
"But I go to her realm in my sleep. She just tries to keep me there."
Damn. "Does that mean a dream catcher won't work?"
"If it stops dreams, you'd think it might. Maybe it blocks dreams from coming and going."
"Maybe." It was getting too complicated. But if a dream catcher worked, Babet didn't care about the hows and whys.
They passed a local restaurant on their way home. Picnic tables were covered with white, butcher paper. The aroma of seafood and spices hung in the air. Prosper's stomach rumbled, and he pulled into the lot. They cracked the windows of the car so that Morgana wouldn't get too hot, then they went to enjoy a bucket of crawfish that came with sides of hush puppies and slaw.
On the drive home, Babet didn't pay attention to the scenery. She was lost in her own thoughts, and Prosper seemed to be, too. Once he pulled the car into the narrow parking space beside their back patio, the three of them silently headed to their favorite spots in the courtyard. Morgana glided to the corner with the water fountain. Prosper headed to the kitchen and returned with two beers, then stretched onto the lawn chair beside Babet's. The air clung, warm and sticky, but the splash of the fountain somehow relieved the heat.
He offered a beer to her before taking a long sip of his own. Then he pushed up the hem of her skirt to rest his hand on her thigh. She took it for what it was—nothing sexual. He simply wanted her touch.
They sat, listening to the voices of tourists drift from the sidewalk in front of their house. Babet had bought the yellow bungalow with its bright, red, front door because it was so close to the shops and restaurants of the city, and a short walk from Magic Street. The sides of the houses on her block touched, so that their back courtyards with their high, brick walls, were fairly private. The location suited both her and Prosper.
He sighed. "We'll have Morgana sleep in our room tonight. She can wake us if the wraith comes."
"She comes to your dreams." Babet had been churning ideas through her mind. "What if you don't dream? What if you sleep so deeply, she can't reach you?"
He frowned. "You mean, wait until I'm exhausted before I fall into bed?"
"You're close to that now, aren't you? What if you take a sleeping pill on top of that? You'd be so out of it, the wraith can't lure you to her world."
"I'd probably sleep through my alarm clock in the morning."
She shrugged. "I'll call Hatchet and let him know you might straggle in late. And maybe by tomorrow afternoon, Nadine's spirits will have some information for us. All four of them are scouring the city tonight. They can sniff out magic."
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I could use some sleep."
"You've been more tired than usual lately. Maybe the wraith has been wearing you out." She gripped her beer bottle in a death choke. The wraith was playing and teasing her man, her mate. Tomorrow, while Prosper was at work, Babet was going through every spell book she owned, and if she found a way to wither a wraith to stray shreds of mist, Prosper's tormentor would be no more.
Prosper nodded, then looked at her and grinned. "I know something else that helps me sleep well."
She met his gaze. Time to lighten things up. She tugged him out of his chair and toward the bedroom.
Morgana raised her head, recognized the playfulness between them, and tucked her snout back into her thick coils—unimpressed. Once behind their closed door, Babet waved a hand to light the candles in the room, then she turned to Prosper and slowly unbuttoned his short-sleeved shirt.
She hissed in a breath. An expanse of bronze skin and sculpted muscles greeted her. "You do know how gorgeous you are, don't you?"
He scooped her off the ground and pressed her against the cool wall before grinding his lips against hers. Pinning her in place, his hands roamed her body, tugging her peasant blouse off her shoulders, hitching her skirt higher. They touched and teased until he carried her to the bed and lowered himself over her. She arched into him, but he pushed her flat on the mattress. "No hurry. I have to wear myself out." His lips and fingers probed. Nerve endings jangled. Want turned to need, and need burned through every fiber of her body. Finally, she warned, "Now, or so help me, I'll petrify you and take what I want."
He laughed. She loved the deep vibrations of his voice. And then he grew serious, bent his head to run his tongue over her nipple, and passion took over. No more thoughts. Only sensations. They finished, flushed and covered in perspiration. Babet didn't think she had the energy to stand. She wasn't sure her legs would hold her.
Prosper rolled onto his back and exhaled a deep breath. "Damn, I feel good."
"Me, too." She nuzzled against his side, resting her chin on his shoulder.
They lay still, letting the whirring ceiling fan wash currents of air over their bodies. Then Prosper rolled away from her and started for the bathroom. "The pills are in the medicine cabinet, right?"
"Right." She tossed on a light robe and went to call Morgana into the house and to lock up. When she and Prosper returned to bed, they faced in opposite directions, only their fannies touching. Morgana coiled on the floor near Prosper, and they all fell into an exhausted sleep.
* * * *
Babet woke up, but not in her own world. She wandered through a landscape, at once too vivid and too vague. Key elements stood out in garish color, but melted at the edges until they diminished to shadows. Where was she? A full moon lit the tree leaves with a silver glaze. Not right, her mind told her. The moon wasn't full for another week.
A meadow stretched before her, surrounded by bushes pruned into odd shapes. Green branches formed Venus, rising from the waves, and nymphs, frolicking with Pan.
A woman walked toward her—lush curves made of wisps of smoke. She smiled a challenge. Strands of mist stretched long fingers toward Babet, wrapping themselves around her arms and legs. The ground opened, and the mists tugged her toward the gaping maw of cracked dirt.
"Really?" Babet returned the smile. "Is that all you've got?" She called on her power, and it surged through her, tingling along her veins and turning the mists to vapors.
The woman raised smoke eyebrows in surprise. She flicked her hands, and mists rushed over Babet, enveloping her in their swirls. They entered her nostrils, moving down her throat toward her lungs.
"Out!" she cried.
The mists flew to the far edges of the meadow.
Babet raised her palm and shot white magic toward Nola. It raced through her misty form, and the wraith stood unharmed. The women faced each other, sizing each other up. Before Babet could try another spell, shadows raced past her, and she found herself back in her own body once more—the dream ended.
She woke with a start. And smiled. Nola had unwittingly done her a favor. Witch magic worked in the Netherworld. It was hers to take wherever she went. The next time she met Nola, she'd be prepared. The wraith had better watch her back.
* * * *
When the alarm went off in the morning, Prosper didn't budge. Babet had to place both hands on his chest and pump energy into him to wake him. He shook his head, trying to focus. "Boy, I slept hard." He glanced down at Morgana. "Did Nola try to come to me last night?"
The boa turned its head toward Babet. Prosper frowned.
"Nola came to me," Babet said. "She tried to bury me in the Netherworld, so that she could do as she pleased with you."
Prosper's muscles tensed. He stared at her, instantly alert.
Babet shrugged. "She must not have known she was dealing with a witch. She does now."
"Did she harm you?"
"No."
His voice hopeful, he asked, "Did you harm her?"
"Not yet."
Prosper pushed himself up on his elbows. "That would have been too easy. What happened?"
Babet explained while she padded to the kitchen to make coffee. "And don't get used to my being nice to you in the morning," she warned. "Once this is over, I start sleeping in again."
He came to stand behind her and wrap his arms around her waist. "Witches were made for moonlight. That's as it should be."
"Weres prowl at night, too. They just don't need as much sleep as we do."
He nuzzled her neck and headed for the shower. When he returned, he was dressed for work—crisp shirt and casual slacks. Prosper made office wear look sexy. Hatchet might always be creased and pressed with military precision, but he couldn't compete with her werebear. At least, not for her. Colleen had taken one look at Hatchet and claimed him as hers. Babet looked Prosper up and down. "Looking good, Copper."
His eyes narrowed. "Some nickname. Must you?"
She smirked. "You're a cop, and your skin's copper-colored…and you call me Babs."
"So this is payback?"
She made her voice sound innocent. "No, an endearment."
"Well, then, Babs, I have to go. I'll see you tonight. And I have a feeling I'll have trouble sleeping again, so maybe I should stop somewhere and bring home oysters and chocolate."
"If you need a little help, go ahead. I'm game."
His eyes glinted. Desire skitted over her skin, making her shiver. He laughed. "I'll probably be later than usual since I didn't get through all my work yesterday. See you tonight."
When she heard his car pull into the back alley and drive away, her jollity vanished. She'd done her best to keep his mood up, but now she was ready for work. That bitch of a wraith tried to kill her last night so that she could take Prosper. Nola had to be stopped. There must be some way to do it.
Babet tossed on an old, sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of shorts, then she went to the laundry room and removed her obfuscation spell. She tapped at the ceiling in the back and grabbed the dangling rope that appeared. With a yank, she pulled down the hidden staircase that led to the long, narrow room in the attic space. She climbed the steps and frowned at the rows of worn, leather-bound spell books, pages yellowed with age. They filled the shelves that lined both sides of the room. Somewhere, in one of these, there must be spells to defeat wraiths. The question was—which books should she look in?
By lunch time, she felt like a soggy puddle. Sitting in a hot attic wasn't her idea of fun. She usually grabbed a book and took it downstairs to study, but this time, she had no idea which books to try. She'd gone through at least a fourth of them with no luck. A headache nagged behind her eyes, and she was hungry. She slammed the spell book she held shut and jammed it back on its shelf. Enough! She marked how far she'd gotten on the shelves and gave up.
When she chanted a safety spell for the books and closed and sealed the pull-down staircase, she re-cast her obfuscation spell and wards. Then she went to take a quick shower. She was moving leftovers around on her refrigerator shelves, looking for a snack, when someone knocked on the back door. She glanced out at the courtyard and saw Evangeline. When Evangeline saw her, she gave a quick wave and hurried inside.
"Manette found her!" Evangeline said without preamble. She shoved a piece of paper toward Babet. "Here's her address. I shouldn't stay. I'm on my way to Hennie's to pick up herbs for the settlement, but if you need help, the herbs can wait."
Babet shook her head. "Prosper and Hatchet will come with me. We should be fine, but thank you. And thank Manette."
Evangeline gave a wry smile. "Manette al
most likes you, at least, as much as Manette likes anyone."
Babet stared, surprised. "What makes you think that?"
"I've known her a long time. She really pushed herself to find this woman in one night. A rush job for you. Manette doesn't go out of her way for many people. Usually only for Mom."
Babet wasn't sure how she felt about Manette. She guessed, after all the times the spirit had helped them, she begrudgingly liked her, too. Well…maybe liking was too strong a word. Appreciated? That might be better.
Evangeline smiled, watching her struggle. "I know, it's sort of a mixed blessing, isn't it?"
"She's sure come through for us enough."
"That's because she can't stand it if one of the other spirits beats her to a big scoop, but this time was different. Either that, or she hates wraiths, but most of them are harmless. This one's unique."
Babet looked at the address on the paper. She knew that area of River City.
Evangeline nodded. "Go get her, and kill her dead, so that not even her spirit can return."
"I'm not cutting off her head, and people would notice if we buried her at a crossroads."
Evangeline reached into a pocket and pulled out a gris-gris. "No need to. Put this under her tongue. She won't rise."
Babet took it carefully. "Your magic still creeps me out once in a while."
"Yours isn't exactly all flowers and sunbeams," Evangeline told her. "And don't even get me started on your succubus powers."
Babet smiled. "I guess we're even." She motioned toward the paper and the gris-gris. "Thanks again."
Evangeline gave her a thumbs-up and hurried away.
Babet snagged a slice of cheese and ripped a chunk off a round of bread. She wolfed them down, then placed the paper and gris-gris in a specially lined pocket of her purse before heading toward the door. Morgana slithered after her.
"Are you sure you want to come?" Babet asked. "I'll be safe. Prosper and Hatchet will come with me."
But her familiar would never let her battle alone, not if the snake could help it. So Babet held the car door for her and let her settle before driving to the station to get Prosper.