by Judith Post
Babet stared. “Ines? Someone from your settlement?”
The pitch of Evangeline’s voice rose with fear. “We practice voodoo. Who’d sneak into one of our houses? There’s a splash of blood on her living room floor.”
“Just one splash?” Prosper asked. “Or more?”
Evangeline took a deep breath and started again. “We were all sleeping. Ines’ children were in their room. They woke up and looked for her and couldn’t find her. Her bed was empty. She was nowhere in the house or yard. They ran to the front porch, crying and calling for help.”
“So someone took her in the middle of the night.” Babet struggled to piece information together.
Evangeline nodded. “We found heel marks in her backyard, like someone dragged her across the dirt and grass.”
“Toward the river?” Babet could picture the voodoo settlement on the river banks with each house painted a bright color with dark trim.
Prosper’s shoulders stiffened. “I’m working on a case like that. A woman taken from her house, dragged away, dead or unconscious. We still haven’t found her. We haven’t found much of anything.”
“Ines isn’t dead.” Evangeline said it with conviction. “Mom called for her spirit to appear, and nothing came. If she were killed, her energy would come to us. It hasn’t.”
Babet and Prosper exchanged uneasy glances. The last time a person disappeared and wasn’t dead, the vampire, Vittorio, had to drain him out of mercy. Babet pushed that thought away.
She looked at Prosper. “Who was the first woman who disappeared?”
He could talk to her about his case now, since it looked as though Evangeline’s friend and the woman who’d been dragged away were connected somehow. “Delphine lives on the edge of a bog. She dabbles in magic.”
“A bog?” Babet frowned. “Both women disappeared near water?”
“Are you thinking whoever took them used a boat?” Prosper frowned, trying to connect the two locations in his mind.
“Juju,” Evangeline whispered, caught up in the second piece of information Prosper had given them.
Everyone had heard of Delphine. No one knew for sure how old she was or what she practiced. With her dusky complexion and steel-gray hair, no one even knew her heritage. The older woman kept to herself. As far as Babet knew, she’d never stepped foot into the city.
Babet frowned. “I thought Juju was slang for voodoo.”
Evangeline shook her head. “Not the same. Juju’s more about Karma, good luck and bad. People go to Delphine for tokens.”
"And other things?" Babet's skin prickled the few times she'd met the woman.
“What kind of tokens?” Prosper asked.
“Small things they can carry to help them with something specific—as protection or to lift a curse.”
Morgana coiled herself around Babet’s ankle. Her tongue flicked in and out. The snake was upset.
Evangeline reached down to stroke her head. “It’s alright, Morgana. Our magic is stronger.”
“What is Juju magic?” Babet repeated.
Evangeline shrugged. “I don’t know much about it, but I know its energy is different from voodoo’s. A witch doctor fills an object with magic that can bring good or bad luck.”
“Did Ines know how to practice Juju?” Prosper was obviously trying to make connections between the two women and finding it difficult.
Evangeline gave a quick nod. “That was her magic before she joined our settlement.”
Quite the mix—voodoo and JuJu, but Ines must not have as much power as Nadine, Evangeline's mother. No one confronted the voodoo priestess, if they could help it. Babet yawned. She turned away from the foyer and motioned for Evangeline to follow her. “I need coffee. It’s too early. I’m not very awake.”
Both Evangeline and Prosper trailed behind her to the round, pine table in her small kitchen. Babet filled three coffee mugs and carried them over. She sagged onto one of the sturdy chairs and sipped the steaming brew carefully. Finally, she asked, “Since Ines and Delphine both practiced Juju, would they know some of the same people?”
Evangeline inhaled quickly. “Oh, no….”
“What is it?” Prosper leaned forward, his elbows on the table.
“It’s been so long ago, I sort of forgot. No one ever talks about it, but the father of Ines’ children is related to Delphine somehow.”
“And the nephew is never around to see his kids?” Babet asked.
Evangeline dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. “Never.”
“And Delphine?” River City had a strong history of matriarchs. Babet suspected that a Juju witch doctor would pay close attention to her bloodline, but Evangeline shook her head.
“Rumor is she cut herself off from the nephew completely.”
Prosper rubbed his chin—freshly shaven. In a few hours, there'd be stubble—part of being a Were. He looked sexy with dark whiskers. “Would Delphine or Ines help him if he was in trouble?”
Evangeline stared. “Why do you think women move to our settlement? It's to get away from the men in their lives, to find power with fellow females.”
Prosper’s large hand engulfed his coffee mug in a tighter grip. “I’m thinking this nephew must be a real loser.”
“Marcel’s gone through a lot of women. When they displease him, he lets them know.”
“Fists?” Prosper asked.
Evangeline nodded. “When Ines moved to our settlement, she had a black eye and a split lip."
Prosper gently persisted. "Is that what happened to most of the women who came to you?"
Evangeline began kneading her palms again. "Some were physically abused, some verbally, a few mentally. All of them emotionally. Delphine came to see Ines one time. She gave her a withered monkey paw. She told her that it would protect her from Marcel.”
“Does Ines still have it?” If she did, Babet couldn’t see how Marcel could harm her. Protective charms were powerful. Her stomach grumbled. She was getting hungry. Thinking too much did that to her. She went to pop four pieces of crusty bread into the toaster.
“Ines hung it from a crucifix on the wall between her kids’ beds.”
Babet shook her head. A jumble of religions rolled into one. Ines must have been hoping one or all of them might be strong enough to keep her children safe. “She chose to protect them instead of herself.”
“Most mothers are like that.” Prosper drained his cup, then rose to refill coffee mugs. The aroma of the strong brew and the toasting bread filled the kitchen.
Evangeline gazed into the dark liquid before she added milk. “It can’t be Marcel. He knows better than to mess with a Juju girl. He was afraid of Delphine.”
Were they focusing on the wrong things? Too soon to tell. They were grasping at any information they could think of. Babet buttered the toast and handed out napkins. “What happened to Marcel after Ines left him?”
“He moved on to the next girl. There’s always a next one. He’s good looking—coffee-colored skin, blue eyes, tall, strong—lots of charm.”
Prosper leaned back in his chair. “How old are Ines’ children?”
“The boy’s seven. The girl’s five.”
“How old were they when Ines left him?”
“The boy was two, the girl wasn’t born yet. Ines snuck out in the night after he hit her in the stomach when she was pregnant. That was the last straw. She came to live with us.”
Prosper shrugged, evidently dismissing whatever case he'd been building in his mind. “Ines has been with you five years. She’s ancient history to a guy like Marcel. He might not even remember her.”
Babet wasn't so sure. “But what if Marcel’s desperate? What if he needs two women with powerful magic to help him?”
The toast stopped on its way to Prosper’s mouth. He narrowed his eyes, considering the idea. “Now that’s another story.”
Babet glanced outside her kitchen’s French doors into the courtyard behind her house. Surrounded by brick walls, i
t provided privacy she cherished, unlike her front yard that was a few steps away from the city sidewalk. “Where does Marcel live?”
Evangeline sighed. “I don’t know. He and Ines never see each other. He’s afraid to come to our settlement, and she never goes to him.”
Prosper rubbed his chin. “How old is Marcel?”
“How old are any of us? Age is relative to our kind, isn’t it?” Evangeline gazed at her reflection in the glass of the French doors. A spitting image of her dead father, the dark warlock, Emile, with raven black hair and cobalt-blue eyes. Fair skin, unlike her mother’s—the voodoo priestess, Nadine.
Her answer made Babet think. “Does Marcel have Juju of his own?”
“Magic runs in his blood,’ Evangeline said, “but he’s too lazy to practice it. He leaves that to his women.”
Prosper finished his coffee and pushed away from the table. “We have enough to get started. I’m going to try to find Marcel.”
Babet and Evangeline stood too. Evangeline followed Prosper toward the front door. “I’ll tell my mother what we think. She’ll help us look for him.”
Babet headed to the sink to rinse their dishes and mugs. “I need a shower. Then I’ll stop at Mom and Hennie’s shop. Witches don’t know much about Juju, though.”
“Are you afraid of it?” Worry tinged Evangeline’s voice.
“Our charms protect us. You have charms now, don’t you?”
Evangeline held up her right hand with the ring Babet had magicked for her firmly placed on her pinkie. Even at a distance, Babet could see all of the spells she’d embedded on its silver surface.
“Then you have no worries,” Babet told her. She walked to the front room to wave them away.
Evangeline smiled. “I’m starting to love being part of two worlds. Most of the time.”
“I know the feeling.” Babet thought about the new power that surged through her in moments of stress when her succubus powers sprang to life, catching her by surprise. A gift from her father.
Evangeline locked gazes with her. “Yes, you do. It’s nice having someone to share this with.”
“Ditto.” Babet’s gaze slid to Prosper. She watched him get in his car. She was sharing more and more all the time. And, if she was honest with herself, she’d never been happier.
* * *
Babet wasn’t in any hurry. Prosper and Evangeline both had better chances of finding information than she did. She decided to start a supper to have waiting for Prosper when he returned tonight. Then she’d walk to her mom and Hennie’s shop.
Prosper had a fondness for muffuletta. Babet started on the olive salad, combining green and kalamata olives, garlic, chopped cauliflower, and capers before adding the other ingredients. She split a round loaf of bread and spread the mixture on the bottom half before layering meats and cheeses on top. When she finished the assembly, she wrapped the sandwich tightly with plastic wrap and put it in the refrigerator for the flavors to marry. Happy with herself, she grabbed her purse, ready to set off for her mom’s. Today, she wore a short skirt and matching tee, striving to look a little more put together than usual among the throng of tourists.
Morgana followed her out onto the patio, then slithered into the lush foliage to hunt. No food and water bowls for her. The snake provided for herself.
Leaving Morgana to find her lunch, Babet walked into the city. She passed crystal shops, voodoo dens, and storefronts offering Tarot and palm readings before turning onto the side street that catered to real witches. She lingered in front of a window that displayed a satin, deep-blue nightgown decorated with shiny, slivers of moons—a negligee worthy of bedroom spells. She was considering buying it when a tingle of magic passed her. Not witch magic. Something else.
She turned to see a young woman hurrying toward Magic Avenue. A leather strip bobbed around her neck with a talisman at its end. A Juju charm? The woman was an attractive Hispanic with big, dangly earrings and red lipstick. Babet followed her until she ducked into the back entrance of a palm-reading shop. Babet strolled past its plate glass window and saw the girl take a chair, reach for the hand of a tourist, and point toward a line on her palm. She must work there.
Babet decided to go back to the store later. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the girl. But first, she went to Mom and Hennie’s.
She found both women crawling on the floor, trying to capture round charms that had escaped from an apothecary jar and were rolling everywhere. Babet sank to her knees and joined in the rescue. When every charm in sight was back in its glass case, Mom finally said, “Hey, kid, perfect timing. Good to see you.”
“I’m here on business.” Babet told them about Evangeline’s visit and Ines’ disappearance.
Hennie tucked strands of snow white hair back into her bun and blinked. “There was blood?”
“In one spot. Nowhere else.”
“Her abductor probably hit her on the side of the head and knocked her out before he dragged her somewhere.” Mom went to sit on one of the stools at the store’s counter.
“The marks led to the river,” Babet said. “And the other woman was dragged to a bog.”
Hennie’s lips pressed together in a tight line.
Mom raised a brow. “The owls have come to visit us twice.”
“About what?” Every witch took owls seriously, including Babet. Athena’s sacred birds symbolized wisdom.
“They tell us there’s a monster who lives in the swamps.”
“A monster?” Babet stared. What would an owl consider see as a monster?
Hennie added, “It only comes out at night.”
Okay, that was weird. Babet pursed her lips, thinking. “I don’t suppose they can describe it.”
“A man-shaped, moving plant,” Mom said.
“Really?” What the heck would that be? Maybe Athena’s sacred birds had been partying a little too much lately. Babet shook her head. Not likely. Artemis and Athena weren’t frivolous goddesses.
Mom and Hennie directed their gazes to her. “Someone should probably check it out.”
Babet shook her head in protest. “You mean me. This sounds more like a voodoo or Juju problem.”
Her mom waved a hand in dismissal. “You’re the one who came here, looking for answers. We gave you one. Do what you want with it.”
Babet knew her mom was playing mind games with her. Mom took Ines’ disappearance as seriously as she did. So did Hennie. But she also knew they were going to be sitting in their apartment upstairs tonight, while she was probably going to be pacing some river bank, cussing, playing at doing a stake-out with Prosper and Evangeline.
Hennie saw the resignation on Babet’s face and smiled. “That’s our good girl.”
Like hell. She’d been had, and she knew it. “I’ll let you know what we find.”
“Tell the owls thank you for us,” Mom said as Babet grumbled her way out the door.
She stood in the warm, humid air—not as bad as summer—and tried to decide what to do next. She found herself heading to the palm reading shop.
* * *
The young woman was rearranging a display inside a glass case. She looked up when Babet entered the shop.
A big smile. “Can I help you?”
She was a pretty girl—wavy, brown hair; sparkling brown eyes; and a heart-shaped face. Babet tried not to sound apologetic. “I came to ask you about Juju.”
The girl gave a quick shake of her head. “No. I don’t talk about that.”
“Delphine has disappeared. So has a girl named Ines. Both knew a man named Marcel. Can you help us find them?”
“Marcel?” Her hand nervously went to her necklace. “What does Marcel have to do with any of that?”
“Both women disappeared in the middle of the night.”
Color drained from the girl’s face, but she didn’t give up easily. “Marcel doesn’t need any other woman but me.”
“We just want to ask him questions, to see if he knows anything that might help us find them,” B
abet said.
The girl’s chin jutted forward. “He’s been playing around, hasn’t he? That’s why he hasn’t been to my place for eight nights.”
“I honestly don’t know. We just need to question him.” Babet looked at the necklace. She was close enough to see that it was a leather strip with an evil eye protection amulet dangling from it. “Who gave you that?”
“Marcel.”
“Was he worried about you?”
The girl laughed. “No, he said it was just something pretty he saw and it made him think of me.”
“When did he give it to you?”
The girl’s eyes widened. Temper flashed, and at first, Babet thought she wouldn't answer her. But finally, she said, “Two nights before he quit coming to my house.”
Babet nodded. “He wanted to keep you safe.”
“From what?” She was worried now, Babet could tell.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
The girl scribbled an address on a piece of paper. “He was staying with a buddy.” She blushed. “It was just a stopping-off point on his way to work or my place.”
“Marcel works?” Babet couldn’t hide her surprise. In her mind, he was a grifter, living off of others.
Anger flashed brighter in the girl’s dark eyes. “I know what they say about him, but he’s changed.” She gave Babet the name of a crew on the docks. “He puts in long days there. It’s hard, hot work.”
“Thank you.”
“If anything’s happened to him….” Her voice trailed off. “I want to know.”
Another nod. “I’ll be back. I’ll tell you.” Babet left the store, more worried than before. If Marcel gave this girl an evil-eye charm, he was afraid something might happen to her. Maybe the same thing that happened to Delphine and Ines.
The address wasn’t within walking distance. Babet picked up her pace on her way back to her house and found Morgana sunning herself on the paving stones on the patio, with a large lump bulging her midsection—gross—hopefully a rat, not a squirrel—the snake knew better than to eat pets. “I’m taking the car to look for a house not far from here. Want to come?”
