by Judith Post
Morgana hurried back toward the bedroom and Prosper. Babet followed her, a bit amazed. Her boa was especially fierce tonight.
The dream catcher was thrashing on Prosper's side of the bed. Babet took a quick, nervous breath. She turned to Morgana. "Guard our bodies while we're gone." Then she released the protective shield she'd cast over her Were. Almost immediately, his lips curved in a smile. And soon, his body went limp. Nola had claimed him.
Babet touched her dream catcher, said her spell, and went after him.
She found herself in the same meadow she'd visited before. A round, yellow sun glowed in a bright, cloudless sky. Grasses waved, but there was no breeze. Flowers bloomed in reds, yellows, and pristine whites—animated, movie perfection.
She rubbed her thumb over her ring and felt Prosper a short distance away. She jogged toward him, unsure of this terrain. Did the grasses hide gaping holes? Steel traps? Was this a happy dreamscape or a nightmare?
Then, like dreams she'd had as a kid, she ran, but never seemed to make any progress. She never got any closer to Prosper than she was before. Were Nola and Prosper jogging, too? Could Nola whisk from place to place, as smoke, taking Prosper with her?
No matter. At least she wasn't losing ground. Nola could run as fast as she wanted, but Babet would eventually find her.
Nola changed direction after a while, and Babet did the same. As long as her ring connected to the amulet on the chain around Prosper's neck, she'd be able to feel him. Trees with leaves that were too green and birds that were too bright came and went, but the landscape gradually changed. The trees' leaves withered until finally, their branches were bare. The blue skies turned to metal gray, threatening and foreboding. A rickety, wrought-iron fence surrounded a small yard that looked very similar to her front yard at home. Two, weathered stones sat before long rectangles of mounded dirt, her name and Prosper's scrolled across their surfaces. Babet smiled. Spooks and graveyards didn't scare her.
This time, she was gaining on Nola. She could feel Prosper growing closer and closer. A thicket grew up ahead, and she burst through it. It had looked solid, but when she crashed against it, it dissolved like a mirage of dull color, nothing more.
Babet pulled up short. She could sense Prosper. He should be here, within sight. But all she saw was an expanse of endless, dry grasses. Something tugged at her, calling her to it. She walked toward a single tree, covered with long, wicked thorns. A chain dangled from one of its branches.
Prosper's amulet hung from a broken twig. Nola must have realized what it was and removed it.
What now? Babet pressed a hand to her stomach. Panic churned up acid. Dread rippled over her skin. How could she find Prosper now? She turned in a slow circle. An empty, dead plain stretched as far as she could see.
Tears stung her eyes. She couldn't lose Prosper! She just couldn't.
She fought to calm herself. She needed to think. If she rubbed her ring again? Maybe she could still connect hers to his. Nola couldn't remove that. It was protected.
Nothing. The ring might protect him from spells and magicks, but it didn't work as a beacon.
Where was Nola taking Prosper? Was he awake, or still in a slumber state? Had he tried to shift and failed?
Fear choked her. What had Claude said? She could wander in this Dream Scape until her body died. She might feel real here, but she wasn't any more substantial than Nola.
Where was Prosper?
Her legs gave and she sagged onto the hard earth. A dull ache grew in her chest.
She couldn't think, couldn't function. Nola had beaten her. She had Prosper, and Babet had no idea how to get him back.
Her arm itched. No, not an itch. A strange feeling.
She looked at it, and the half Celtic tattoo that Hatchet had used to bond her to Prosper was lifting off her skin and straining forward…to reach its other half. The half that stained Prosper's forearm. Relief washed through her. Butterflies swooped in her stomach. Her pulse quickened. She felt like shouting, singing.
The tattoo stretched farther, and she lunged to her feet, following its direction. She could feel Prosper again. Colleen had told her that she could sense Hatchet with their bonded tattoos, but Babet had thought she meant in some vague way. There was nothing vague about the tattoo's insistence. It knew where Prosper was and would lead her to him.
She started off again. She wouldn't stop until she found Prosper.
Babet wasn't sure how, but Nola could tell that Babet was after her. She quickened her pace, but so did Babet, and this time, she gained on her.
The barren landscape melded into a land of mists. The longer she walked, the thicker the mists became until she couldn't see in front of her. She stopped to look at her surroundings and shivered. This reminded her of the land of the Living Dead or Lost Souls cast into purgatory, everything painted in shades of gray.
Get a grip, she told herself. There were good dreams and bad dreams. She'd entered the lands of nightmares. Her skin crawled. She rubbed her arms to warm herself. She wasn't cold, but fear chilled the blood in her veins.
She looked at her tattoos. They would have to act as her compass. She walked blindly in the direction the ink strained toward. She couldn't see the ground or the next step ahead of her. If something blocked her way, she'd walk into it. If roots grew, she'd trip over them. If a hole yawned open, she'd fall into it. She called for a ball of energy, hoping to burn off the mists. That worked, as far as it went, but the mists rolled on for what seemed an eternity. She could never burn through that many, but the light was bright enough, she could at least see where she placed each foot.
She called for a bubble of protection and hoped for the best.
Just as she'd expected, she walked a short distance and a deep pit lay ahead of her. Once she circled it, the ground sloped downward. Moans and growls sounded deep in the basin. She squared her shoulders. Whatever was down there had better stay out of her way.
Shadowy shapes moved on the peripheral of her light. Hands reached for her. Something long and dark swam through the mists.
"Go ahead and touch me," she called. "See what light does to shadows!"
They backed away. Smart nightmares. Intimidation tactics pissed her off. If they wanted to play games, they were going to lose. She was getting damned sick of this place. She might even go after them, just because she didn't like them. But that would take her farther from Prosper. So she fought down her temper and checked her tattoos.
They weren't stretching as far as before. Nola and Prosper must be closer now. Babet smiled. Let's see how long Nola wanted to stay in the land of Yuck. Somehow, she didn't think the wraith was fond of doom and gloom when it came to her own, personal pleasures.
Babet slugged along for a few more miles, and suddenly the mists began to clear. She blinked at the sight in front of her. A castle constructed from wisps of smoke spiraled into the air. Steps led to its huge, double doors. Outlines of trees, whose leaves' edges frayed away, bordered its front facade. Branches drifted and blurred. In its unique way, the entire scene made Babet catch her breath—a strange beauty she'd never seen before. A fairy tale of smoke and mists.
Her tattoos reached for the door. Nola had Prosper inside that castle—a warped version of Sleeping Beauty. Babet had come to rescue her prince. But then, he'd do the same for her.
When she reached the third step, the sound of scuffling feet made her stop. Smokey rats? Misty mice? She raised her palms, then stared. An army of dolls with missing parts marched toward her. A doll with a painted smile had lost an eye. A baby doll hopped on one leg. Another had no arms. Babet froze.
How did Nola know? Babet swallowed hard. When she was a little girl, one of her favorite stories, the one she begged her mom to read to her over and over again, told about dolls that came to life. She'd loved that story until she grew older and rented the movie Chucky—about a demented, demon-possessed doll that killed people. And somehow, after that, dolls lost their appeal. They had a creepy, glassy-eyed stare tha
t gave her goosebumps.
These dolls all smiled at the same moment—a cruel, nasty smile that made Babet shiver. But Babet was no longer a child. She'd grown into her powers, and no doll could defeat her. She stared at the tiny knives gripped in chubby hands. Could they harm her? Maybe. She dropped her shield to blast white-hot energy from both palms. She wrinkled her nose at the stench of burnt rubber…or plastic. The fumes clogged the air. Melted mounds of stinking dolls dotted the wide stoop. Glass eyes gazed at her from the gloppy puddles. Synthetic hair sprouted in weird, spiky clumps.
She hurried past the mess, grabbed the castle doors' metal knockers, and pushed them open.
Nola stood in the center of a large foyer. Prosper lay, unconscious, on a long bench.
Babet raised an accusing eyebrow. "You want him to sleep. You want his body to grow weak before you wake him."
"You didn't leave me much choice." Nola looked her slowly up and down. "I never knew witches were such bothers. My nurse didn't get to shoot him with silver. He's too strong."
Babet studied the wraith, too, and had to admit she'd be hard for men to resist. She looked like the cartoon version of voluptuous women with her exaggerated curves. "There's no one to care for his body now. Your nurse is dead."
"A pity, but I can always find another one. You'd be surprised what people will do for immortality." Nola placed herself between Babet and Prosper. "He's mine now. If you leave, I'll send you home. If not, you'll wander here till you're dead, too."
"Witches live a long time."
"Not if their bodies are left to wither and rot."
Babet shrugged. "Won't happen. I have a family and a coven. They'll care for it. If they have to, they'll come here after me."
Nola gave a wicked smile. "But they don't have amulets, do they? How will they find you?"
"I found Prosper without an amulet, didn't I? They'll find me, too." Hopefully, Nola didn't know about Druid magic and Prosper's tattoo. His half of the Celtic symbol reached for hers, and hers for his.
Nola scowled, considering that. "How did you find him?"
"I'm a witch. So is my mother." No need for Nola to know Babet had made amulets for everyone. She circled closer to Prosper, and once again, Nola positioned her body between them.
Nola tilted her head, a small smile playing across her lush lips. "Wraiths don't mind sharing. I'll call a truce if I can have him two days a month."
Sy's words echoed in Babet's ears. Don't trust her. She'll make promises she has no intentions to keep. Babet pretended to consider her deal. "It's not my choice, is it? That's up to Prosper. Wake him and see what he says."
"No! Don't wake him."
Babet stared, surprised. She took a few steps sideways, and Nola matched her. Interesting. The wraith didn't want Babet anywhere close to Prosper. Why? "Surely you don't want to spend your time with him, watching him sleep."
"You make the promise for him. That will be good enough."
Nola was trying to trick her. She knew Prosper wouldn't agree to her deal, so she wanted Babet to bind him to it. "I don't make decisions for my mate." Babet shot energy at her, and when the wraith jumped aside, it hit Prosper. Just a small bolt, a tickle. But enough to wake him.
His eyes darted open. He shook himself, then bolted to his feet. Furious, he glared at Nola. "You wanted me here? Well, here I am." And he shifted so quickly, Babet didn't catch it all. But before she could lick her lips, brown fur sprang over most of his body. And he grew—tall and bulky and dangerous. Claws the size of stilettos rimmed his paws.
Nola raised a warning hand. "If you harm me, there won't be anyone to send you home."
Prosper turned to Babet. "Is that true?"
She smiled. She realized now that Prosper had only partially shifted, so that they could communicate. "No worries, I'll take you with me."
Prosper roared and swiped at Nola. Her mists parted, scattered for a second, then reformed.
"See?" Nola said. "You can't hurt me. I made your mate a deal. If you promise to spend two days a month with me, I'll call a truce."
He swiped again, this time with more force. Nola's mists scattered farther.
Babet smirked. "How many times can you form and reform? Eventually, do some of your mists dissolve, get lost? Do parts of you go missing?"
Nola laughed. "I don't have to stay to fight you. I can disappear, and you can't follow me. But with no truce, I'll come for Prosper night after night."
He swiped through her again, then whipped through her mists a few more times for good measure. Her smoke swirled and whirled and then reformed.
This time, Babet called upon whirlwinds to suck Nola into their vortex. They ate the wraith and spat her out.
Nola reformed, but she looked a ragged mess. She pointed at Prosper. "Two nights isn't asking for much. I might tire you for a minute, but you'll have plenty of time with your witch."
Prosper's fur bristled and he swiped at her again. "You killed my father!"
Nola's brows rose. "I pleasured him, but he didn't appreciate it. Let's hope you don't make the same mistake."
Prosper shifted completely. Over eight feet tall, he was a walking menace.
Babet raised both palms. "The only mistake is yours. Prosper's mine, and I don't share."
"That's a shame." Nola sounded smug. "Because even if you take him, I'll just come for him again. How many times do you want to trek through your dreams and nightmares?"
Babet planted her feet in a fighter's stance. "As many times as it takes."
Nola's eyes danced with amusement. "How many times can he survive the trips back and forth?"
"He's a werebear. He's stronger than both of us." Babet called for the winds again. This time, they whirled so fiercely, they tossed parts of Nola's mists in all directions, along with part of the castle. Babet stamped her foot, and the earth shook. The entire area trembled. But when the winds died and the earth settled, Nola and the castle reformed.
A chill slid up Babet's spine. She could beat Nola, but could she kill her?
Nola's grin was a taunt. "And neither of you need sleep?"
Babet glanced at Prosper. This battle could be endless. How long could they fight it? Maybe they could sleep in shifts. He worked. She'd let him sleep at night while she guarded him, and she'd sleep during the day. But what kind of life was that? And would Nola ever leave them alone? Would they ever feel safe? It didn't matter. She'd be damned if she'd give up. If Nola put so much as one finger on Prosper, Babet would shrivel the damned thing. No, she'd take Prosper with her now, and then she'd look through more spell books when they got home. She'd learn how to beat this bitch if she had to destroy the entire dream world to do it.
A sound like a thousand whispers swept into the room. Babet raised her arms, ready to battle. She called for a protective shield around Prosper. Then she noticed Nola take a defensive stance, and she turned to see dozens of wraiths circle the room.
Babet stepped beside Prosper and called for more energy.
When the sound ceased, a wraith with long, flowing hair and a face that would melt mortals, stepped forward. "We're not here to fight you, witch. And we're hoping you won't return to fight us."
"Why have you come?" Nola's voice rang with anger. "This is none of your affair."
"For centuries, we've come and gone from our world to theirs. We've visited them in peace. You've broken our rules."
"You pleasure yourselves with whatever scraps mortals throw you," Nola mocked. "We unite with men in their dreams, and that's all we are to them. When they wake, they leave us."
The lead wraith's brows rose in surprise. "Do you want to stay in their world? To be a mortal?"
"No!" Nola threw the word at her. "They can have our scraps, take what we give them."
The beautiful wraith frowned. "Our world is peopled by females. We live lives of ease, and we take our pleasures where they're offered, in a spirit of mutual giving. What more do you want?"
"I'm tired of men yearning for me until they me
et someone, and then they cast me aside."
The wraith's brow rose in a challenge. "So you'd stay with a man for the rest of his life?"
"No, it's not in our natures to love someone old and feeble."
The beautiful wraith shook her head. "We can't expect from others what we will not give."
Nola's hands went to her hips. "Like his father before him, this shifter came to me in his youth, and then forgot me, wouldn't respond when I called for him."
The wraith turned a thoughtful gaze on Nola. "What do you want from this mortal?"
Nola didn't answer.
"Why not choose someone else?" the wraith persisted.
"Because he doesn't want me!" Nola spat. "He turned me down, over and over again. Him! A pitiful mortal!"
The wraith's expression grew serious. "This is against our laws. We seek mutual pleasure."
Nola's mist frame exploded with energy. "Who is he to deny me? I take what I want!" She threw up her hands and shot whips of smoke at the two wraiths in front of her.
They did the same. The whips met and a tug of war ensued. Finally, the two wraiths yanked at the same time, and chunks of Nola were ripped from her body. She reared back and sent dozens of whips in all directions. She was tugged from every side when her fellow wraiths responded. Finally, parts of her flew in all directions—her core ripped in pieces.
Nola screamed—a death knell Babet was sure she'd never forget—and then, what was left of her, evaporated in wisps and streams.
The beautiful wraith turned to Babet and Prosper. "We apologize for our friend. We wish no enmity between us."
Prosper, once again in mortal form, answered. "If we judged all on the merits of one, all races would be judged unworthy."
The wraith smiled. "Then we leave you, and none of us will visit you or River City again."
Prosper nodded. "Thank you."