The Babet & Prosper Collection II: Beware the Bogeyman, Celt Secrets, The Trouble With Voodoo, and A Friend in Need (The Babet & Prosper Collections Book 2)

by Judith Post

  Babet stepped between her boa and Manette. "She's tried to tell us. She can't speak. What did you expect her to do?"

  "To bring us help. We're under siege. Someone's trying to wrest control of the settlement from Nadine."

  "Impossible." Babet couldn't fathom that. "Nadine's the high priestess. Who's powerful enough to take her place?"

  "A voodoo priest from long ago, the man whose sacrifices stain the soil by the river's edge."

  The room went silent. It felt as though everyone inhaled their breaths at the same moment. Babet rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. She didn't even like to visit Settlement Park. The soil at the river dock stank of old, rancid blood. People told tales of how boats stopped to moor there and never journeyed farther down river, because the priest awaited them, ready to bludgeon new victims with magic and butcher them as sacrifices.

  Morgana bobbed her head. She wrapped her tail around Babet's ankle and tugged for her to leave, to go rescue the voodoo women.

  Perdita studied the cards' spread. Every witch understood the Tarot. She bit her lip, obviously not happy with what she saw. "We have to help them. We have to save Evangeline. Now."

  Perdita had never married, never had children. Babet often thought that Evangeline filled a gap in the older witch's life.

  Babet's mother gave a curt nod. "We've become allies with them. The last thing we need is for a voodoo priest to cause trouble here, especially that one."

  "But what can we do?" Babet asked. "How do we save voodoo priestesses from voodoo magic?"

  Her mother sighed. "I have no idea."

  Babet looked from one witch to the next. All of them shook their heads. Witch magic and voodoo spells were alien from each other.

  * * *

  Once Manette got a firm promise that the coven would do what it could to help, she evaporated to hurry back to the settlement. After she left, Babet glanced at the clock on the classroom wall. Almost three a.m. Not a good time to call most people, but then, Hatchet wasn't "most people."

  Henny studied her. "I've seen that expression many times. You have an idea."

  "Hatchet's a Druid. He has a different kind of magic from us. He might have some ideas that would help us."

  Her mother rubbed a hand across her forehead. She looked tired, but she ruefully nodded agreement. Witches didn't generally mix with other magicks, but at times, it was necessary. "He's Prosper's partner and the liaison between cops and supernaturals. He knows most of the magicks in River City. Not a bad contact to have."

  Hennie frowned at the time. "Won't he be asleep?"

  "No." That was the beauty of it. Babet knew he'd be awake. Mating with a vampire meant that he kept her hours.

  Hennie pursed her lips, considering the idea. "What can it hurt? We watched him battle a fellow Druid. His body's covered in tattooed spells. His magic is old."

  Babet would never forget seeing those tattoos come to life, to lift off his arms to strike and bite. No, it wouldn't hurt to ask Hatchet for help. She dialed his number, but he didn’t pick up. Probably busy. A few minutes later, he returned her call. "You have a problem, right? Spill, and be thorough."

  Damn the man. Never any niceties. Babet explained about the voodoo settlement.

  There was a pause. His voice thoughtful, he said, "Voodoo magic is different from ours. Voodoo calls upon the spirit world. Witch's magic depends on the six energies—male, female, air, earth, fire, and water. Druid magic is even more Nature based, but our magic is every bit as strong as theirs. There has to be something we can do to help them."

  Until Babet met Evangeline and her mother, she'd never given voodoo much thought. "None of us has ever fought voodoo before."

  "Neither have I, but that doesn't mean it can't be done. I'll meet you at your place tomorrow. Prosper will be home by then. If your coven wants to come, it's fine with me." The phone went dead. Typical Hatchet. He said what needed to be said, and that was the end of the conversation.

  Babet tried not to yawn. Her giddy energy had peaked and sagged. Now her body craved rest.

  Hennie nodded. "We're all tired. Let's go home and get some sleep. We'll look for answers tomorrow."

  The other witches went to fetch their coats from the pegs near the school's front door, but waited for instructions before they left.

  "There's no reason for all of us to meet Hatchet tomorrow," Hennie decided. "Rowan and I will go to Babet's house and report back to the rest of you."

  A good plan. Babet nodded, then waited until the others left for Hennie to drive her home. It was a quick ride. Before she scrambled out of the car, Hennie stroked Morgana comfortingly. "Don't worry, dear snake. We'll think of something."

  Morgana seemed calmer when she followed Babet into their house. Only one light, over the sink in the kitchen, greeted them. Prosper wouldn't be home until morning. The king-sized bed looked too big without her Were on one side of it, so Babet settled on the couch in the living room and turned on the TV to lull her to sleep. Morgana draped herself over the back of the sofa, and they both succumbed to slumber before the first commercial began to drone.

  * * *

  Something nibbled her ear. Soft lips moved from her cheek to her neck. Babet groaned with pleasure. Was she dreaming? She opened one eye. Nope, Prosper was bending over her, his soft, brown hair within easy reach. She loved his hair. His chocolate-brown eyes weren't bad either. Neither was his bronze skin, his muscled torso, corded arms and legs, his….

  He pushed up her shirt, and his tongue ran over her nipple. Shivers and toadstools. Every nerve in her body was on instant alert. He gave a low laugh. "Do I have your attention now?"

  "You've got more than that." She reached for him, but he pulled away. Uh-oh, was he already distancing himself from her? No fun and frolics? Time to get serious?

  "Hatchet left a message on my cell. He'll be here soon."

  "Hatchet?" She'd called the man at three in the morning. Why was he up at the crack of dawn? But then he'd be one of those people who could function on two hours of sleep, wouldn't he? Everything about Druids was irritating.

  "I have coffee in the kitchen. Want some?"

  "A pot might be enough." She scrubbed a hand over her face. What was it with Weres and Druids? Witches were sensible enough to sleep in.

  "It's already nine o'clock," Prosper told her. "Time to rise and shine."

  "What is this, the military? No bugle boy? I've only had a few hours sleep." She pushed herself to her feet and stumbled to the kitchen. Her muscles felt stiff. Maybe sleeping on the couch hadn't been her best idea. She studied Prosper. He seemed normal enough at the moment. "Is everything okay? You seemed a little tense last night."

  His shoulders hunched. "I've been trying to find the right time to talk to you. This isn't it."

  Holy Hecate! She was right. A stab of pain clutched her heart. This wasn't fair! It had been his idea to move into together, not hers.

  She downed one cup of coffee before Hatchet knocked at the kitchen door. She felt sick. Sucker punched. She narrowed her eyes at him as he walked to the counter for his favorite mug.

  He glanced her way. "You look cheerful this morning."

  No sarcasm was amusing before noon, especially his. "Not all of us can look perfect every hour of every day."

  As usual, the man wore creased, dress pants, an ironed, button-down shirt, and polished shoes. It offended her. His nub of blond hair hugged his wedge-shaped head. His whip-cord, lean body looked tensed for action. She was in the jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt she'd fallen asleep in—minus a bra. "Do you ever just run around in sweats?"

  He raised an eyebrow. She was rarely this petty, she knew, but she wanted to kick something, preferably Prosper. He ignored her mood. "We have work to do. It sounded serious. The sooner we get to it, the better."

  A knock sounded at the front door, and Prosper let in Babet's mother and Hennie. They followed him to the kitchen.

  "Good to see you here," Hennie told Hatchet. "Our coven rarely asks for help, b
ut we need it now."

  "You don't need it. The settlement does. You're helping someone else." He sipped his coffee, tasted it on his tongue, and nodded approval. A gourmand. "If I understood Babet last night, your friends have been struggling for two months now."

  Babet's mother nodded. "We think that's why they didn't join us at Settlement Park for your battle."

  Hatchet's expression clouded. "I might not have survived on my own. I'd like to return your coven's favor."

  "Any ideas of what to do?" Hennie asked.

  "Every magic has good spells and dark ones." Hatchet looked to Babet for confirmation. When she gave a quick nod, he went on. "Can you load the settlement with good talismans? If the women can't leave for some reason, maybe you could take the good magic to them, something to make them stronger."

  Babet raised her eyebrows in surprise. She hadn't thought of that. She'd been going through complex protection spells in her mind. Maybe she was making things more complicated than they needed to be. And maybe she needed to focus on the problem at hand and not on Prosper's goodbye.

  Hatchet shook his head. He frowned at her. He knew something was off, but let it ride. "Sometimes simple is best. Sometimes, it doesn’t work, but we'll learn a little more about what we're up against."

  "Our magic or theirs?" Babet's mother asked.

  "All of the above." Hatchet poured himself another cup of coffee. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a carved, wooden coin. "A circle of oak from one of our sacred trees with the symbol of the mistletoe carved on it," he said. "I have a coin for each house at the settlement. I've infused them with Druid magic."

  Hennie rubbed her hands together. "I have herbs that will help."

  Babet's mother said, "I have enough pentagrams and witch's knots for each house."

  Prosper went to stand behind Babet's chair. He rested his hands on her shoulders. What was he playing at? He was going to ditch her as soon as he could. But no, this was about serve and protect—his life profession. "I'll collect everything, and then Babet and I will take them to the settlement."

  "That might not be safe." Hatchet hesitated as Morgana coiled herself around the leg of Babet's chair. He narrowed his eyes and studied the snake. "Can she sense voodoo magic? If the priest was close by, would she know?"

  Morgana bobbed her head yes.

  Hatchet's shoulders relaxed slightly. "Take her with you. I'm guessing the priest isn't close enough for the women to sense him, but why take chances?"

  Babet locked gazes with her boa. "Morgana won't let us go without her. She's too worried about her friends."

  Hatchet finished his coffee and went to the sink to rinse out his mug. Always thorough. "We're done for today. When you get back, call me and we'll go from there."

  He started for the door. "Werebears get off when they keep late hours. I don't. I have to go to the station."

  Prosper frowned at the cutesy nickname, and his friend laughed.

  Babet's mother and Hennie turned to leave, too. "We'll have all the supplies ready for you when you come," Hennie told Prosper.

  Babet pushed to her feet. "I'll take a shower and get dressed. By the time you get back, we can drive to the voodoo settlement."

  Prosper reached out a hand to muss her dark hair. "Keep a little of your bedroom look. It will make the drive more interesting."

  "Ask me if I care." When he woke her, he'd made unspoken promises he couldn't keep, that he didn't want to keep.

  Prosper's grin was unrepentant as he followed her mom and Hennie from the house. She got the message. He wanted the sex, but not the monogamy. Blast him! He'd insisted on it. Babet sighed and looked at Morgana. "I guess a witch doesn't get time off for good behavior." Prosper would be back soon. She could sort through her emotions later. For now, she'd have to hurry to get ready.

  * * *

  Following the river to the settlement at the end of January didn't hold much appeal. The earth lay dormant. Birds and animals huddled somewhere, out of sight. Morgana curled on the back seat of Prosper's car, coiled in worry.

  Babet didn't want to have the discussion now. It would ruin her concentration for the job she needed to do. Relief flooded her when Prosper turned on the radio for a distraction. His focus was on the job, too.

  Babet's mind flitted from one thought to the next, incapable of staying put. By the time Prosper made the curve past the bog to the settlement, Babet's mind buzzed like an angry hornet's nest. Worries aside, she couldn't wait to talk to Nadine, hopefully to find answers. But before they reached the first house, the car died. Babet could feel a wall of oppressive magic. She could even taste it. She and Prosper grabbed their bags of talismans and set off on foot. Their legs moved, but energy pressed against them. They couldn't enter the settlement. Neither could Morgana, even though she slithered back and forth, looking for a weak spot.

  Prosper frowned. "I can smell dark spells, but Were magic can't break them. Can you?"

  "Oh, ye of little faith!" Babet shot him a dirty look. "Who lifted one curse after another from Emile's house so that you could get inside? And who opened the locks on Magrat's bespelled box?"

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A little defensive—you're worried you can't do it, aren't you?"

  "You're damned right, I am. This is voodoo magic, not my own."

  He shrugged. "All we can do is try. Give it your best shot."

  Babet looked at her snake. "You're shivering. You might want to wait in the car. This might take a while."

  The boa flicked her tongue in and out, lowering her head in disappointment before she started back to the car. Prosper went to open the door for her.

  Babet inhaled, tasting the magic that surrounded the settlement—unfamiliar to her, but similar enough to identify. She started to work on the smallest component and said a counter-spell. To her surprise, her witch magic undid it. That let her taste the next. One by one, she released the magic until she reached the strongest spell. She inhaled, let the magic slide over her tongue, then grimaced. She stepped out of her shoes and pressed her feet to the earth. No vibration she recognized. She held her hands out, palms up. No prickles of witch magic. "I don't know this one. If I don't know it, I can't find a counter-spell."

  Prosper sniffed the air. "It smells different. Like dark voodoo." He put two fingers under his tongue and blasted a whistle so loud, Babet flinched.

  "Why did you do that?"

  He motioned. The women in the nearest houses came to stand on their front porches. "So they'd know we're here."

  "Brilliant." Babet waved to them. They left their homes and hurried to her and Prosper. Morgana thumped against the car window, and Prosper went to fetch her. When they all gathered together, the first woman said, "You can't enter, and we can't leave here. Hamza has us trapped."

  "I've removed most of his spells," Babet said. "I don't recognize the last one. Do you?"

  The woman tilted her head and concentrated. Her eyes blazed with hope. "You've removed all but one. I'll get Evangeline. We know this magic."

  As she hurried away, the second woman pushed a hand into the invisible shield, drew back her fingers, and tasted them. "He's used gris-gris. He probably scattered them in a circle to form his shield. If you can find his tokens and remove them, you'll lessen his magic."

  Morgana raised her head and hissed.

  Prosper gave the woman a considering look. "If we touch them, what happens?"

  "I don't know." She obviously didn't care either.

  While they waited for the others, Prosper and Babet went to the car and carried all of the protective talismans the others had given them to the shield. Maybe lots of magicks combined would make a difference.

  "What are those?" the woman asked when Babet spread one of each on the ground between them—the carved oak piece from Hatchet, a witch's knot, and a pentagram, along with a sprinkling of Hennie's herbs and powders.

  "Gifts from friends." Babet stood beside Prosper, waiting, until Evangeline and every other wom
an in the settlement came to join them. She could feel the magic of the charms creeping into the shield, battling its dark magic with their good energies.

  Evangeline stopped and spread her arms. "You've weakened it. Thank you. Our usual chants didn't work. Hamza combined your witch magic with ours. I should have studied more with Perdita."

  Babet stared at her friend. Evangeline usually shied away from any show of power, happy to stand in her mother's shadow. Not this time. She looked determined and ready to take on any foe. "I don't know this last spell," Babet told her. "I can't remove it."

  "We can." Evangeline nodded to Dashika, one of the priestesses who'd accompanied them into the swamp to find Ines.

  Babet looked from one of them to another. "Where's your mother? I thought she'd be with you."

  The women huddled closer together. Evangeline finally said, "She lies in bed, as she has since Hamza cursed her. She's in the inbetween world, neither with us nor departed."

  Damn, damn, and double damn. Shivers shot up Babet's arms. She rubbed them to calm herself. "What did he hope to achieve?"

  "We were strong enough to defy him before my mother took to her bed. Now, if we kill him, we won't know how to remove his curse."

  Babet's hands balled into fists. She didn't think anyone was clever enough to harm Nadine. "If you can get us inside the settlement, maybe one of us will know the magic he used on her."

  Evangeline's eyes gleamed. "Then let's get this shield down."

  They all worked together. Ines and two others carried lucky amulets to Evangeline, who placed them carefully across from the talismans Babet brought. "If you use witch magic on your side of the shield, and we use our magic on this side, I think we can remove Hamza's magic."

  Babet nodded and began to chant a spell against black magic. Evangeline and the women spoke in their native language, chanting a spell to remove evil curses that Babet had heard them use before. A cracking sound ripped through the shield. A crimson zigzag colored the air, and a fierce wind split the dark magic. A crumbling sound rushed around the perimeter of the settlement, and Hamza's blockade was broken.