The Babet & Prosper Collection I: One Less Warlock, Magrat's Dagger, A Different Undead, and Bad Juju (14 page)

The Fourth Babet & Prosper Novella

A Lunch Hour Read

by

Judith Post

Copyright 2012

Babet opened one eye. It felt like someone
lurked over her. Sure enough, Prosper was standing at the foot of
the bed, studying her. She crooked a dark brow. "What? Am I
drooling?"

A grin lifted his lips. "No, just enjoying
the view."

She ran her tongue over her teeth. Swallowed
hard. Did she have bad breath? She scraped her fingers through her
long, unruly hair. "I feel grungy."

"You look soft and sweet when you sleep."

"What are you saying? That I'm not soft and
sweet when I'm awake?"

His dimples showed. "If I wanted a nice,
even-tempered woman, I wouldn't be here."

But here, he was.

Prosper folded his thick, muscled arms over
his equally impressive chest. He stood in the arch between Babet’s
bedroom and bathroom, a towel riding low on his hips. He hadn't
shaved. Dark stubble covered his chin. “I want a drawer.”

“A drawer?” Babet realized she should have
been prepared for this. Prosper was spending more and more time at
her cozy bungalow. Less and less time at his apartment. They ate
suppers together, slept together, but enjoyed their alone time,
their separateness.

“I already have a key. I’m not asking for
laundry privileges, but I’m tired of driving home to dress before I
go to work.” He dropped the towel to pull on underwear he’d left on
the floor last night and followed those with his wrinkled
jeans.

The sun slanted through the slats of the
bedroom shutters, striping his bronze skin in light and shadow.
She’d never met anyone as exotic as her detective. What had he
called himself? Part Indian, part Creole, a splash of this, a pinch
of that. A combination of all things good. Babet sighed. “I suppose
you’ll want some closet space next.”

“That’s a given. If I decide to wine and dine
you on the spur of the moment, I need the proper getup.” He ran a
hand through his thick hair, still damp from the shower. The Were
looked lovely when mussed.

Babet threw off the sheets to saunter closer
to him. His gaze roved her body, and she gave a smug smile. Prosper
enjoyed every inch of her and let her know it. “This is a small
house. Space is hard to come by. If you want storage, what’s in it
for me?”

His chuckle was a low rumble. “I already
start coffee in the morning, take out the trash, and help with the
dishes."

All true. He never balked at pitching in.

His arms circled her waist, and huge hands
grabbed her behind. "And I've saved this beautiful ass on several
occasions. What more do you want?”

“Hmm, there must be something.”

A brief flare of hurt squenched his eyes, but
passed quickly.

It made her heart seize. She'd never hurt
him. "It'll be hard to come up with anything," she said in a
teasing voice. "You exceed my expectations on a daily basis."

The dimples returned. "True, that. Even your
dad liked me."

"That's because you helped us fight Jaleel."
When the demon attacked her to torment her father, Prosper had
stood by her side to battle him. With their help, her dad, the
Underworld's gatekeeper, had been able to capture Jaleel and return
him to his pit.

"And I worked with you to beat the
necromancer and his witches," Prosper added, lifting her off her
feet to nuzzle her cheek.

"I helped you on that case," she argued.

He shrugged. "Whatever. We make a good
team."

Thumps landed on the bedroom door. Prosper
lowered Babet to the floor and shook his head. "Morgana isn't
happy. She doesn't like being left out of the action."

"Snakes aren't allowed in the bedroom, even
if she is my familiar."

He pulled a T-shirt over his head. “I still
want a drawer and maybe a few hangers, but I have to go. I have two
cases that Hatchet and I are working on. Not making much
progress.”

She knew better than to ask. When he worked
with Hatchet, it was usually a homicide. He could only tell her so
much about his job. And she could only share so much about her
witchcraft.

She tossed on a summer dress—nothing
underneath. When they stepped into the hallway, Morgana slithered
around Babet's ankle. The snake seemed unusually agitated.

"You okay?" Babet asked.

The snake gazed at the front door. A few
seconds later, someone pounded on it.

“Something's up, isn't it?”

Morgana uncoiled herself and hurried toward
the tiny foyer. Babet and Prosper followed. Babet glanced out the
huge, front window on their way. Evangeline stood on the front
stoop. When the girl peeked in and saw her, some of the panic left
her eyes.

There must be trouble. Since Evangeline had
discovered she was half-voodoo princess and half-witch, she’d been
training with their coven regularly, and a lot of the fear of mixed
magics had left her. But this morning, she looked terrified and
worried.

Babet opened the door and ushered her
inside.

Evangeline looked at Prosper. “I came here
first. I was hoping to find both of you. Ines is gone, taken.”

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?”