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

by Judith Post

  They settled on the couch and she nestled into him. “Will we stand a chance if the witches see us?”

  “No, that’s why we’re doing lookout, not mounting an assault.”

  She nodded. She was ready to do something, even if it was only looking for a needle in a haystack of rundown buildings.

  He pulled her closer. “What if I spend the night? I’ll go into work in the morning and leave to get you around ten. We’ll do drive-bys when it’s nice and bright outside and people are wandering the streets. You can smell magic in the air if you get close enough to it, right?”

  “I have to be really close if they’re not practicing. It will just be a whiff. I could miss it.”

  “We’ll do our best.” He bent to kiss the top of her head. “You’re tired. Let’s go to bed.”

  “I’m not in the mood….”

  He didn’t let her finish. “To sleep, Babs. This isn’t the night for a romp. I just like lying next to you.”

  She blinked. Damned, she was getting attached to the Were bear.

  He smiled, and she knew he knew. “There’s nothing like a bear to sleep with. Cuddly and protective.”

  “Quit the cute stuff. I’m tired.”

  He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Brush your teeth before you crash. Your breath smells like shit.”

  The reality check got her moving. The bear knew how to push her buttons. And she liked that.

  Chapter 3

  Babet didn’t hear Prosper get up and leave the next day. By nature, she wasn’t a morning person. After all, she was moon driven. All witches were. Late hours stimulated her. A full moon filled her with energy. But most people worked on regular, mortal time, and she did her best to accommodate them.

  By the time Prosper came to pick her up, she was showered, dressed, and ready to go. Morgana followed her to the door. Babet looked at Prosper. He shrugged. “Why not?”

  The snake came with them.

  Prosper followed the river road to the last fragments of the city, then started zigzagging in and out of neighborhoods, making his way back to town. Morgana lay on the back of Babet’s head rest, her head nodding at the open window, her tongue flicking in and out as she scented her surroundings.

  It wasn’t until they were in the closest ghetto to the city that both Babet and Morgana sat up straighter, inhaling deeply. Prosper slowed and pulled to a curb. “What is it?”

  “Magic’s in the air.” Babet wrinkled her nose. “Black magic.”

  “Can you tell where it’s coming from?” Prosper looked at the houses running for blocks and blocks. Peeling paint, sagging porches, and trash-filled yards stretched for as far as they could see. A cat curled on a front stoop close by. It raised its head and glared at them.

  Babet shook her head. “The scent’s not strong enough. More like a hint.”

  “Do you think the magic happened here?” Prosper asked.

  “No, it started here, but it finished somewhere else.”

  “That’s what you said when we walked through Emile’s house together.”

  “And I was right. Evangeline took his nail clippings and hair to put in her wax doll.”

  Prosper sighed. “But we’re in the right neighborhood?”

  Both Babet and Morgana nodded.

  Prosper glanced at his watch. “It’s two-thirty. What if I drive you home, let you do your thing while I go back to the station, and then I’ll take you for supper before we go to your mom’s for the coven meeting tonight?”

  “You aren’t allowed.”

  Prosper looked surprised. “But I’ve helped the coven.”

  “Doesn’t matter. This is official magic time. No outsiders.”

  He nodded. “I get it. When my pack meets, no one else is invited.”

  His pack. Babet didn’t think about that very often. They hadn’t been together long enough for her to learn his rhythms. She turned to study him. “Are you like werewolves? Do you change at every full moon?”

  “Bet your sweet ass I do. Part of being a Were instead of a shifter. So does my pack. We’ve been Weres a long time. We all have control. It’s more like your coven. We get together to catch up on things.” She was about to ask more, but Prosper hurried on. “I’ll stay at your place while you do your coven thing. Then we can go from there.”

  It was an expert dodge. He’d told her all that he was going to. “Go from there?” Was he ready to spring into action the minute he had some information?

  He glanced her way. “You’ll learn something, won’t you? Something we can use?”

  “What are you thinking? You and me against a necromancer and really old, powerful witches?”

  “I’m not stupid, Babs. I know the drill. Witches can zap me. But I’d like to learn as much as I can before we make our move.”

  More reconnaissance before they sprang into action. She liked that. “Okay, that works for me.”

  “Then let’s hit it. I’ll drop you off, then be back around five-thirty. We can grab a quick supper, then you can make your mom’s meeting.”

  It all sounded good on paper. She nodded. Another full day, and she was starting to feel the pressure. She wanted to find the necromancer as soon as possible.

  Morgana relaxed on the drive back to the bungalow. Babet and her familiar entered her house and watched Prosper drive away. Babet spent the rest of the afternoon beefing up her protective charms and spells. She poured more protective potion around her property. If she had her way, not even Lucifer himself could make it past her castings.

  Her stomach grumbled at five. She thought about a snack, would have gotten one, but someone knocked at her back door. No one but close friends came to that door. No enemies could step through it. She took an offensive stance and called, “Come in.”

  A young woman, maybe late teens, stepped into the kitchen. Attractive. Thin. Pale. Fang marks bruised the base of her neck. She looked around. “Are you the witch Vittorio told me about?”

  Babet slightly relaxed. “I’m her.”

  The woman kept a hold of the door handle, prepared to flee. “Jesus is missing. Vittorio had to go out for a minute. I was staying with him. Jesus clapped his hands over his ears, looked crazy, and made a run for it. I told Vittorio what happened. He looked for him, but didn’t find him. Vittorio said when you start searching to try the Mission District. Vampires reported from all over the city, and that’s where things are weird right now.”

  Babet nodded. That’s the area she and Prospect had stopped in earlier in the day. The smell of magic lingered there. She tried not to think about Jesus. Wished she didn’t have a face to attach to his name. He shouldn’t have left Vittorio’s shop. But maybe he didn’t have a choice. Maybe the witches were chanting a summoning spell. She doubted he was still alive.

  Babet sighed. “Thanks. Tell Vittorio that our coven’s meeting tonight. When we can, we’ll search that neighborhood, see what we can find.”

  The girl nodded, then practically bolted from the house. She must not like witches.

  Babet was near starving and feeling out of sorts by the time Prosper returned to fetch her. She kept picturing Jesus. It’s not that she was attached to him, but she did feel sorry for him. Being a new vamp sucked.

  “Hungry?” Prosper asked as he opened the front door for her.

  She told him the news.

  He looked serious. “Does summoning work on anyone?”

  Babet handed him a ring. She’d magicked inscriptions on every inch of its surface. “Wear this. Always. It will protect you.”

  He slid it on the ring finger on his right hand. He twitched, uncomfortable with its magic. He could feel it flow into his system, she could tell. Before they left, he rubbed Morgana’s chin. “You might as well sit this one out, girl. We’re going to get something to eat, then I’ll drop Babs off and be back. You can go along on the witch hunt when it’s time.”

  Morgana seemed fine with that. She curled into a ball on the leather sofa, ready to rest. Prosper drove to a neighbo
rhood restaurant, famous for its catfish and red beans and rice. They didn’t talk while they ate.

  On the drive to her mom’s place, she fidgeted nervously.

  “If he’s alive, we’ll save him,” Prosper said, reading her thoughts. He was getting better at that. It felt invasive and good, at the same time.

  “Here’s hoping.” Babet wasn’t so sure. Prosper hadn’t dealt very much with black magic. He knew about it, but didn’t have to battle it. She was glad the coven would be together. Glad there’d be back-up, unity. She was surprised to see Evangeline’s mini-van as they pulled to the curb in front of Mom and Hennie’s shop.

  Prosper nodded. “I know. No Weres allowed. Call me to pick you up when you’re finished.” He brushed a kiss across her cheek. He was getting more and more intimate, more cuddly. Was she ready for that?

  She squared her shoulders to walk into the shop. Tonight was no usual meeting. Tonight, they’d make battle plans to drive the necromancer and the witches he’d revived out of River City.

  * * *

  Evangeline had saved a chair for her. The girl looked nervous. Covens were new to her. So was witch magic. The others sat in a circle of chairs facing the center of the room, inside the pentagram painted on the wooden floor to protect them. All of the other chairs were taken.

  Babet took her spot and Evangeline reached for her hand. They both looked up as Babet’s mother took center stage. Mom quickly explained everything they’d learned. She finished with, “Babet called just before the meeting. The new vampire is missing. It sounds as though he was summoned. Any questions?”

  “Summoned?” Evangeline squirmed in her chair. “Can that happen to us?”

  Mom shook her head, and a strand of her light-brown hair escaped the bun she’d scraped it into it. “Our magic will protect us. Some people are more resistant to summons than others, but you might want to cast spells for anyone you care about.”

  Evangeline glanced at the witch who sat across from her, and the woman nodded.

  “I’ll teach you.”

  Babet smiled at Perdita. She’d donated a lot of time to Evangeline. She’d never married or had children and seemed to be enjoying sharing her craft with someone younger.

  Hennie looked troubled. “Rowan, we should use magic to search for the necromancer tonight. That poor vampire….”

  “We can’t smell vampires, only magic. You know that, Hennie.”

  “But….”

  Babet’s mother put a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “They won’t kill him until the full moon tomorrow night. They’ll sacrifice him then.”

  “That’s why we should look for him. Tamber’s here. She’ll play with him until then.” Hennie’s voice cracked.

  Everyone squirmed in their chairs. No one had thought about that.

  Babet felt a knot form and twist in her stomach. She’d assumed Jesus was already dead. The thought of a sacrifice didn’t enter her mind. What had her mother said about Tamber? That she was known for her cruelty?

  Her mother took a deep breath. “Let’s go out back and form a circle.”

  The shops up and down the street were closed. Her mother and Hennie owned the only building with a second floor, so the small parking lot behind the store was private. The women spread out and Babet’s mother cast a circle. She reached into a skirt pocket and took out a stone. When she placed it on the ground between them, Babet saw that it was an agate. She looked more closely—an eye agate that formed circles from its center, just like their coven did. The agate was associated with the moon, she knew, just like their goddess.

  Her mother led them in their chants. When she finished, and the circle was disbanded, she gave the stone to Babet. “You’re going with Prosper tonight, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Use this. It will lead you to the right place. While you search, we’ll brew potions to draw protective circles for the fight. Call us when you find something. Don’t do anything until we join you.”

  “I want to call Vittorio too.”

  “The vampire?” Hennie looked dubious.

  “Jesus is under his protection. He has a right to know.” Babet meant to call him whether the coven agreed with her or not.

  Her mother glanced at Perdita, and the other witch gave a quick nod.

  “Why not?” she said. “But warn him he’ll be in danger. If a battle starts, witch magic will fly everywhere. If he stays in one of our protective circles, it can’t hit him, but I doubt he’ll stay in one.”

  “Hennie?” her mother asked.

  “Can he bring others?” Hennie looked at her friends. “We think of ourselves as older witches, and we are for our country, but Celeste and Tamber lived during the Dark Ages. They’re powerful. The necromancer might have brought back more besides them.”

  Two mists blew toward them. They went to Evangeline and faces formed briefly. They whispered in her ear. Her eyes went wide. “He already has four. He wants to form a coven.”

  The witches went silent. Four black witches from the Old Country.

  Babet voiced everyone’s fears. “Are we powerful enough to fight them, to win?”

  Her mother gave an honest answer. “I don’t know, but what choice do we have?”

  “Is there anyone or anything that can help us?” Babet knew Weres couldn’t help. They were feared by vampires, but not older witches.

  Her mother thought a minute. “A succubus has to touch someone to drain life from them. No one will be able to get that close to these witches.”

  “Gazaar?” Hennie asked.

  Babet couldn’t hide her surprise. Her father was the gatekeeper for the Underworld, but did that qualify him to fight dead witches brought back to life?

  Mom shook her head. “He guards the pits. He can come for demons that escape, but black witches don’t go there when they die. They’re guests of their master.”

  Babet’s father was honorable and brave. He’d never condone dark magic, but he had no control over it.

  Hennie sighed. “Vampires might be our best allies then. They’re fast enough to dodge most magic and can’t be summoned. They have glamour and use their own kind of mind control. But it’s dangerous for them.”

  “It’s dangerous for us too,” Perdita said. “But it will be worse if we don’t win.”

  No one could argue with that. Her mother jerked her head toward the shop, and the coven started toward its kitchen. Babet opened her cell and phoned Prosper and then Vittorio.

  Vittorio said, “Jesus might still be alive?”

  “We’re guessing. There’s a full moon tomorrow night. Human blood is much more powerful for sacrifices.”

  “Jesus isn’t human. He’s a vampire.”

  “Close enough. And he attacked one of them—Tamber Grisly. She was still weak since she was just raised. Even weaker after he drained her, or she’d have killed him then.”

  There was a pause. Finally, Vittorio asked, “What happens if this necromancer raises a coven of dead witches? What then?”

  “My coven’s worried if we can defeat them now. Even one or two more might shift the balance. We’d have to run.”

  “I like River City,” Vittorio said. “I don’t like the idea of losing it to black magic. I’ll be there when you fight. I’ll start calling others.”

  She told him about the potions the coven were brewing, how the protective circles worked. “If the magic’s too much, you can stay in those until it’s safe to move.”

  “I’ll spread the word.” Vittorio hung up, and Prosper’s car turned the corner. Morgana’s head bobbed in the rear window.

  Babet filled Prosper in on their drive to the Mission District. She showed him the agate. “It will hum when we get close to witch magic.”

  He looked offended. “Doesn’t Were shifting magic count?”

  “Not this time. Sorry.”

  His brows settled into a scowl. “Probably for the best. Your mother must have attuned it to what you need to find. I’m an ally.”
r />   “So are the vampires this time.”

  His shoulders relaxed slightly. “Tell me when your stone starts singing.”

  They both got quiet, concentrating on the task at hand. They passed restaurants and tourist shops, the sidewalks more jammed than before. It was almost nine, a little early for true party people, but eateries were booming, bars were filled, and people sipped hurricanes from plastic glasses as they made their way from one spot to another. The heat had let up a little. People laughed more, had a bounce in their steps.

  Prosper made his way past the fringes of town until they drove by store fronts that were boarded up, a man sleeping over a sidewalk grate, and women parading themselves under street lamps. He turned toward blocks of brick apartment buildings that lined side streets. In an Italian neighborhood, the scent of garlic and tomato sauce hung in the air. Kids stepped out of their way, returning to their game of stick ball once they were past. Prosper wove up and down blocks. The agate buzzed at the same time Morgana and Babet both sniffed. A stench of black magic permeated the area. Deserted, small businesses circled the old, rundown church they’d noticed before.

  Prosper wrinkled his nose. Weres had a great sense of smell too.

  He pulled to the curb a block away. It was almost nine-thirty. There was still light in the sky, but it was beginning to fade. Prosper and Babet opened their car doors in unison. Morgana coiled around Prosper’s leg, refusing to be left behind. They walked toward the church. Its side windows were too high to peek in. They had to climb the front steps and smashed their faces to one of the arched, stained glass windows. No luck. They couldn’t see anything.

  Prosper tried the door. It creaked open.

  Babet swallowed hard. Her breath caught in her throat. Were the witches inside? She did a quick scan. Nothing moved. The church looked empty—like it had been for years. Dead leaves, blown in through a hole in a corner of the roof, littered the far side of the long, narrow room. A nest sat on one darkened rafter. Dust motes danced in the light spilling through the side windows. A fine layer of dirt covered everything but a circle, swept off, in the middle of the brick floor.