The Babet & Prosper Collection I: One Less Warlock, Magrat's Dagger, A Different Undead, and Bad Juju

by Judith Post

  Babet turned to find Nadine staring at her too. “What?”

  “Have you trained yourself in your succubus powers?”

  “No.” They frightened her.

  Nadine shook her head. “Power is power, neither intrinsically bad nor good. It’s what you do with it. But you have to learn what it is and how to control it.”

  Mom cleared her throat. “We’ll start training as soon as we survive this. Jaleel found and tried to destroy Magrat’s dagger. Yaya Tallow worked to help him, but failed. He burned down her house, with her in it, as punishment.”

  “And temper,” Hennie said. “Jaleel’s temper is legendary.”

  “Can demons die?” Nadine asked.

  “Yes, but they only stay dead if they’re buried at a crossroads.” Hennie pointed to the intersection of two streets. “Not easy to do. Our best bet is to send him back to where he came from.”

  “He won’t go willingly?” Evangeline’s tone was hopeful.

  “When he’s finally free and can stay here and reek destruction? He won’t be able to resist much longer. He’ll take his chances and unleash his powers.” Mom turned stern gazes on Babet and Evangeline. “If we have to battle, I want you two to do exactly what we tell you.”

  Babet stiffened. “The dagger chose me. I’ve been trained. I won’t hide.”

  “The magic chose you?” Nadine tilted her head, studying her. “Your aura is even stronger than the last time I saw you. Your succubus powers are awakening. The dagger sensed your new talents. Somehow, those are the talents that will save you.”

  Babet hugged herself. She’d always thought of herself as a witch. Nothing more. She didn’t like to think of her new powers, what they were or how they’d change her. How was she supposed to use them when she didn’t understand them?

  Her mother’s voice, sharp and icy, cut through her thoughts. “Your father is Jaleel’s jailor. Guess who the demon will try to kill first?”

  “Jaleel knows?” Babet asked.

  “He will soon enough. All he has to do is look at you.”

  “I look like my father? You said I had my grandmother’s genes.”

  Her mother looked uncomfortable. “You do…have her witch genes, that is….but not her light-brown hair or blue eyes.”

  “You look like Grandma.”

  Mom sighed. She nodded toward Evangeline. “You two girls are more alike than you know.” One look at Evangeline and everyone knew she was Emile’s daughter. “The difference is, as far as I can tell, you wish you had no powers at all.”

  “She tries to hide from them,” Nadine agreed. “Even her voodoo heritage. Part of this is my fault. I was making her practice some of her witch energy, to see what it was and how it worked.”

  Dread crawled through Babet’s veins. She understood Evangeline’s reluctance to master what intimidated her. With Jaleel free, though, she wished she’d played with her newfound talents a little more. She was no coward, but she wasn’t thrilled to know she’d be the demon’s main target.

  Her mother read the expression on her face. “If we work together, we might not need you. Hopefully, we can keep both of you girls safe.”

  “Me?” Evangeline took a step closer to Nadine. “Why would the demon care about me?”

  “Because you summoned him,” Mom said. “The last time he was called, the first people he destroyed were the ones who held power over him—the ones who brought him here.”

  “But I don’t want him!”

  “Neither did the voodoo priest and the warlock. They meant to call a minor demon. It didn’t matter. Jaleel obeys no one. He’ll look for you.”

  Hennie laced her fingers together, twisting and untwisting them. “I don’t like having the girls in danger.”

  Prosper didn’t look any happier about it. He turned to Nadine. “Can you work your voodoo magic from here? Try to drain Jaleel while we battle him somewhere else?”

  “What do you mean we?” Babet asked. “You’re staying out of this.”

  “It’s my job to protect River….”

  Hennie didn’t let him finish. “You’re a Were. There’s nothing you can do against a demon.”

  “We’ll battle him upstream at Settlers Park,” Mom said. “Away from this settlement and away from mortals. You’ll stay in the city, where you belong.”

  Prosper’s fingers curled into fists. He wasn’t used to taking orders, but he didn’t argue. He knew she was right.

  Nadine slid an arm through her daughter’s. “We brought the demon here. We’ll do all we can to help send him back.”

  Evangeline’s gaze locked with Babet’s. “I’m sorry. I’ve caused you trouble again. This time, I’ve put you in danger. But we have to send him back, don’t we? If we lose, everyone’s doomed.”

  Babet nodded. “Defeat isn’t an option. This time, defeat means death.”

  Evangeline squared her shoulders. “For how many?”

  “Maybe everyone in River City, as starters,” Mom said.

  Silence surrounded them. Trained or untrained, they didn’t really have a choice. Jaleel was here. He’d kill with glee. They had to win this battle.

  Chapter 4

  The return trip to the city was a silent one. Prosper prickled the entire drive back, giving off foul energy. Babet conjured one strategy after another in her mind, dismissing each one. Mom and Hennie had fought Jaleel before. Hopefully, they had better ideas than she did.

  They met at Hennie’s shop. The front counter greeted them when they walked through the door—a warm, cozy spot with an old-fashioned cash register and stools lining an oak countertop. Shelves lined the far walls with more shelves in the center. Each held apothecary jars filled with dried herbs, seeds, leaves, and roots, among other witchy ingredients. Not the stuff for tourists. Serious supplies for spells and chants.

  Mom pulled the stools into a circle and they all sat, facing each other. Prosper balanced uncomfortably on his, looking too large for the small, circle seat and cute, black, iron legs. Morgana wrapped herself around Babet’s ankle, refusing to separate from her.

  “What now?” Prosper asked.

  “Jaleel has to know we found Magrat’s dagger. I’m surprised he hasn’t gone on a rampage by now,” Mom said.

  “I’ve wondered about that, too,” Hennie added. “I can’t think of any advantage for him if he waits.”

  “Unless he has a different agenda this time.” Prosper scowled at Babet. “Which would he enjoy more, destroying people and cities or killing the daughter of the incubus who sent him back to his pit?”

  Mom’s hand went to her throat. She swallowed hard. Hennie reached for her other hand, and they clung to each other. “Jaleel nurses hatred like some people nurture dreams.”

  Prosper nodded. “Would he know who Babet was when he first got here?”

  “No.”

  Prosper leaned forward, and his stool almost tipped. He put out a leg to brace himself. “Are you sure? Did Yaya Tallow know Babet was Gazaar’s daughter?”

  Mom licked her lips. “Only our coven knew, no one else. We never speak about it.”

  Babet stared. “That’s why you never told me, why no one else in the coven breathed a word of it. All of you wanted to keep me safe.” She was the newest member of her mother’s coven, filling the one, empty spot they’d saved for her after replacing Magrat and four of the others.

  Her mother scooted closer to Hennie, in obvious need of support. “Nadine made the same mistake with Evangeline. We thought if you didn’t know, no one else would either. Foolish, I guess.”

  Prosper glared at the box. “What if Jaleel didn’t want the dagger to protect himself? What if he wanted to use it as bait?”

  Her mother went deathly pale. “You mean, he suspected the dagger would call to Babet? That she’d be the Chosen One?”

  “Who better to fight him than a woman who’s part witch, part demon?”

  Babet flinched. It was hard enough to think of herself as a succubus. She still hadn’t let the te
rm demon enter her mind. She pushed it away. “How could he know my father even had a daughter?”

  Hennie went very still. She straightened on her stool. “Dalal.”

  Her mother stood so quickly, it caught Babet by surprise. “That evil, selfish…”

  “Dalal’s sister died with Magrat,” Hennie said, hurrying to explain. “She never forgave Beryl for studying witchcraft in the first place or for joining our coven.”

  “And she never forgave us when Beryl died in the battle.” Mom let out a long sigh. “But Magrat didn’t ask any of us to join her when she fought Jaleel. Beryl insisted, like we all did. Dalal couldn’t talk her out of it.”

  Hennie shrugged. “Dalal went sour after that, turned to witchcraft herself, only the dark kind. She swore she’d grow strong enough to destroy us all.” She stood, too, and started for the stairs that led to the apartment on the second floor of the building. “I need a glass of wine. Anyone else?”

  They all raised their hands. Appropriate, Babet thought. Mom’s classroom was in the shop next door.

  “It’s more comfortable up there,” Mom said, following her. “Better than sitting on these. Come on.”

  Prosper gladly left his stool to follow her with Babet trailing behind. She hung Morgana around her shoulders to climb the steps.

  Once they were seated around the kitchen table, sipping wine, Babet asked. “What happened to Dalal?”

  “She picked a fight with the wrong witch, another black magic practitioner, and she got zapped, like poor Cassandra.”

  “The only good, dark witch…” Prosper began.

  “…is a dead one,” Hennie ended.

  Prosper finished his glass of wine, went to pour himself another one. Came back with the bottle to pour everyone seconds. “So Dalal gets herself killed. You think she went to the pits?”

  “She wasn’t all that nice before she practiced black magic,” Mom said. “I sure don’t think she went to see Saint Peter.”

  “But she couldn’t be as bad as Jaleel,” Babet said. “She wouldn’t go to his pit.”

  Prosper shrugged. “Maybe it’s like prisons up here. News gets around. Inmates always know what’s up.”

  Mom put her hand to her mouth, thinking. “Dalal knew I was pregnant, that I had no mate, and that I’d been close to Gazaar. She died before I had Babet.”

  Prosper pushed to his feet, too restless to sit. “That’s my worry. Jaleel knows Gazaar had a child, but that’s all he knows. The child will have magic with you as its mother and Gazaar as its father. So…how to find out who it is?”

  Hennie finished the sequence of thoughts. “Find the box and see who it calls.”

  “We fell right into his trap.” Her mother’s shoulders sagged. “If we had thought things through, we’d have wondered why he sent Cassandra to dig up Magrat’s grave. He’d have just attacked, hoping we didn’t make it to the box in time, hoping the dagger hadn’t called its chosen yet.”

  Coldness seeped into Babet’s bones, a feeling of doom. But if Jaleel wanted her, he’d have a fight on his hands. “So where is he? Why didn’t he show up the minute I took the dagger?”

  Prosper knew the answer to that question too. “Because he wants your father here when he kills you.”

  Babet swallowed. “What if Dad doesn’t come? How long will Jaleel wait?”

  “Jaleel will start destroying homes, people. He knows your father will have to try to stop him, to take him back.”

  The words had no longer left her mother’s lips than smoke swirled above a small suburb west of the city.

  Hennie sighed. “We have the box. The dagger called you. It’s started. Jaleel’s taunting your father, forcing him to come.”

  “If Babet doesn’t show up?” Prosper asked.

  “He knows she has to. She’s Magrat’s chosen.”

  No matter how they looked at it, Jaleel had stacked the deck and outmaneuvered them. They didn’t really have a choice. Babet, her mother, and Hennie got ready to do battle. Prosper hit a wall with his fist. “I don’t like sitting things out.”

  “And we don’t like defending people when we can fight.”

  Mom’s words settled the matter. Prosper drove toward the city when he left the shop. The women, with Morgana, drove toward Jaleel.

  Chapter 5

  Traffic was terrible. At the rate they were going, the entire suburb would be ashes before they got there. Babet kept glancing at the smoke that only grew thicker the longer time passed. She was beginning to think the whole destruction game would be finished and Jaleel would move on before they could find their way out of the tangle of cars.

  A siren sounded behind them, moved around them, and forced traffic out of its way. Prosper. He gave a grim smile as he led them out of town. Damn the man, but he’d found a way to be part of the battle.

  A hitch hiccupped in Babet’s chest. Not her heart. Prosper was a buddy, a good lay, a friend. And more? She pushed that thought away. Worry pulsed in her veins. How could a Were survive against a demon? What was he thinking?

  They left city limits with its smash of people and buildings and drove past strip malls and housing additions as the smoke kept growing. Pocket-sized yards stretched into lawns. And then the first surburb began. Or what had been the first suburb.

  A lump in Babet’s throat threatened to lodge there. Her stomach did a flip-flop. A queasy feeling crept up her throat, burning with bile. Fire greeted them. Houses were charred frames, ashes, and ruins. Blackened bodies lay on front yards, where mortals had fled from their houses before the flames got them. Some big. Some small. Parents and children. Tears stung Babet’s eyes. She blinked them away. Her fingers curled around the dagger, and magic buzzed around her.

  She heard laughter and rolled down her car window. Jaleel was throwing flames at the houses in a small cul de sac, chuckling at the humans’ misery as they ran for their lives. Before he could belch fire at them, a long, flaming whip flicked around his neck, yanking him off balance.

  Mom pulled her car to the side of the road, and they all got out. “Not you,” Babet warned Morgana. “You stay in the car.” The snake didn’t look happy, but Babet slammed the door, locking her inside.

  Prosper came to join them. They turned, as one, to see a muscular, god-like being stride toward Jaleel. He wore form-fitting, leather pants and nothing else. Dark hair. Dark eyes. With energy sparking off his perfect physique. Muscles rippled as he pulled Jaleel closer.

  Jaleel threw back his head, opened his mouth, and shot fire at him. Gazaar let it surround him, unfazed, still reeling Jaleel to him.

  Jaleel turned his face, saw Mom, Hennie, and Babet and grinned. He pointed a finger, and energy sizzled toward Babet.

  Her father immediately stepped between Jaleel and her. The energy hit him, and the smell of burnt flesh hung in the air.

  The bastard. Jaleel was trying to use her to defeat her father. The demon knew Gazaar would try to defend her. Babet squared her shoulders and felt energy rise inside her. A new kind of energy. Not witch’s power, but magic of a different kind.

  She took off at a run. Prosper tried to stop her, but she dodged past him. She could sense, more than hear, the ripple of his change. A huge, brown bear charged after her. Two cars flew into the area and screeched to a stop behind Mom’s. The rest of the coven reached for Mom and Hennie’s hands. They needed her to be complete, but she had other plans. No worry. A mini-van joined the others, and Evangeline ran to complete the circle. That disconcerted Babet for a minute, before she remembered Evangeline was a witch now—a white witch, so she’d do.

  Magic thickened the air. Spells and chants pulsed around her. Her father’s whip snapped out and wrapped around Jaleel’s torso, tugging tight, biting into his immortal flesh. Witch winds put out the fires as Jaleel struggled to free himself.

  Prosper was close on her heels. Babet ran faster, never hesitated, and threw herself against Jaleel. He and her father towered above her, but she placed her free hand on his thigh, keeping the da
gger ready. She couldn’t stab him. Power would rush from the wound, destroying anything in its path. As words flew from her lips, energy drained from him, flowed through her hand into her body. Succubus powers. Her new magic. Her power grew.

  Jaleel tried to shake her off. She slashed his flesh with the dagger, making vents. Energy flowed out of the shallow cuts, flooding the entire area. Prosper inhaled it. So did the coven. Jaleel kicked at her and sent her reeling.

  Prosper’s paws lifted her, steadied her, and ran with her as she returned. Babet took Jaleel’s left leg. Prosper clawed at his right, raking the skin on that side. More power escaped the demon. When Jaleel tried to belch fire at them, her father yanked on the whip, keeping him off balance. Mists swirled around them, and women’s faces mouthed chants--Nadine and her voodoo. Babet slashed Jaleel’s torso, watched more energies leave him, swirling toward the river to travel to Nadine’s settlement.

  Jaleel threw back his head and screamed, tensed his muscles, and jerked. The whip fell, leaving deep gashes on his waist. Jaleel clawed at the air. The coven’s magic tore. A long, jagged gash ripped, letting chants and spells spill away. His face contorted in fury, and Jaleel lunged at Gazaar. Her father knocked him aside. He gathered his whip to strike again, but Jaleel dissolved into energy, speeding away.

  Babet stomped her foot as he escaped. The demon stopped, turned, and blasted energy toward her. She wouldn’t have moved in time, but a large, furry body knocked her out of the way. She smelled singed fur as a heavy weight fell on top of her.

  Panic flooded her. “Prosper?” She wriggled beneath him. Was he all right? Had Jaleel hit him? Was he unconscious? Dead?

  A tongue licked her face. A deep voice chuckled. “You can’t always be on top.”

  “Ugggh!” She pushed on his chest, and he slowly rolled off her. Partially shifted, he offered her a hand to help her up, but she refused it, clumsily getting to her own feet.

  He laughed. “Thanks for breaking my fall.”