Authors: Judith Post
Tags: #urban fantasy, #fantasy, #witches, #demons, #necromancer, #shapeshifters, #voodoo, #shifters
“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
neighborhood 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.”
“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.