Dark Dreams for Prosper Page 5

  They made small talk on the drive back to River City. They were more relaxed. The dream catchers wouldn't stop Nola, but they would buy them some time. Zulime was dead, and it would take the wraith a minute to find someone to replace her. By the time Nola was ready to try again, they might have more answers.

  When they reached the fringes of the city, suburbs led to strip malls, and finally, to buildings and houses that had endured for generations. A bustling downtown that was dominated by skyscrapers and offices bumped up against the tourist areas near the river. Familiar territory.

  Prosper drove to Hatchet's car, and the two of them returned to the station. Babet drove home. Once there, Morgana was ready to curl up in her favorite corner of the courtyard. Babet went to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of wine, and stretched onto a lawn chair to relax, but thoughts kept flitting through her mind.

  Did a wraith constantly have to have a man to toy with? Or was Nola just over-sexed, even for a wraith? Babet thought of the beautiful, young man who was nearly wasted away in Zulime's spare room. How long had he been there? Would he remember what happened to him? Or was it like a dream that you couldn't recall?

  With a sigh, she pushed out of her chair and started for the house. "I'm going to the hospital to visit the man we rescued this afternoon. Want to come?" she asked Morgana.

  The snake lifted her head, glanced around the courtyard, then lowered it again. A definite no. Babet didn't blame her. They'd had enough excitement in the last few days. Besides, no hospital would let a boa—even one who helped save a person—visit a patient.

  "I shouldn't be gone that long," Babet said. She grabbed her purse and keys and started to the car. The snake didn't even bother to watch, like she usually did. Poor Morgana was worn out.

  On the drive to the hospital, Babet's thoughts drifted to Prosper and his parents—a bear shifter and a tiger shifter. It had taken supernatural precautions for Prosper's mother to even carry a baby. Prosper was an only child, like she was. Maybe they had more in common than she'd guessed.

  * * * *

  The hospital was on the west side of the city, outside the tourist area. She left the "old" feel of River City behind and entered a modern suburb with shopping malls and chain restaurants. Not one of her favorite places. In her eyes, it could be lifted and dropped anywhere in any city in the United States, and no one would know. There was no individuality about it at all.

  Traffic jammed the streets, zipping from one mall to the next. Shopping on overload. She creeped to the hospital exit, sighed with relief when she parked in the visitors' lot, and went in to find their rescued victim. It didn't occur to her until she walked to the help desk that she didn't know what his name was, so it was a relief when she saw one of the mortal detectives who worked with Prosper waving to her.

  The man smiled at her. "I'm Abe Richardson. I've seen you at the station. Hatchet sent me to check on your guy. He's in room 305."

  Detective Abe led her to a bank of elevators. He was the same height as she—considerably shorter than Prosper or Hatchet—but how many people were as tall as those two? He was in good shape, obviously worked out, but who had the bulk of muscles of Prosper or the sinewy strength of Hatchet? For a mortal, Abe was pretty impressive. His hair was thinning, but his blue eyes sparkled with wit and humor. All in all, not bad for a mortal.

  He hit the button to take them to the third floor, then openly studied her. "So, you're Prosper's wife?"

  She nodded. "And you work with him?"

  "Yeah, we were all surprised when Prosper married. Not to be rude, but the man had women flinging themselves at him everywhere he went."

  She smiled. "Yeah, he sort of caught me off guard, too. I thought we were just having a fling."

  Abe grew serious. "You're special, though, aren't you? There's something about you."

  "My mom leads River City's coven. My father's an incubus." She was rarely that candid, but these men worked with and respected her husband. They might as well know all the gory details to his bachelor demise. It's not like it was a secret in the supernatural world. At least, not anymore.

  Abe's gaze grew serious. "Before I met Prosper and Hatchet, I thought having super powers would make your life easier, but I've watched them. That's not true, is it?"

  She said her mother's obvious quote. "With gifts come responsibilities."

  "Big, heavy responsibilities." Abe paused. "I joined Hatchet's division because I thought it would be fun, different. I never realized how hard it would be."

  Babet heard the pride in his voice. "Do you regret that you did it?"

  "No." He shook his head. "Hunting down criminals is serious enough. Hunting down supernatural rogues saves lives."

  She liked the man. She'd ask Prosper about him when he got home tonight. "How long have you worked the supernatural squad?"

  "Nine years, and I've seen things I never knew existed. Without you guys, the rest of us would be dust, wouldn't we?"

  If only he knew. Mortals never worked the worst cases. She smiled. "Men seem to learn to cope. You'd think of something."

  He smiled, too. "Eventually, after a lot of us were dead."

  The elevator binged that they'd reached their floor. Babet let Abe lead her to the victim's room.

  "His name's Cicero Burns," Abe said. "Thirty-four, reported missing two years ago."

  "Two years?" Babet stared, stunned.

  "Prosper said that Nola must have liked him."

  Babet wondered how much Hatchet and Prosper had told their team.

  Abe seemed to sense her hesitation. "We know there's a wraith who prowls on mortals while they sleep."

  She nodded. "And she kept this man for two years. That's horrible."

  Abe grinned. "It sounded great at first—a gorgeous, dream girl who plays with you in your sleep. Every boy's fantasy. Until you get the specifics."

  Babet laughed. "It's the specifics that kill you, every time."

  Humor alleviated some of the horror they felt. Both of them fought for composure before Abe gave a quick knock and opened the patient's door. They knew that what this man had gone through was not fun.

  A male visitor sat in a stiff, hospital chair in the far corner. Longish, sandy-colored hair framed his narrow face. He glanced at them when they entered, his expression drawn and worried.

  "I'm Detective Richardson," Abe said, "and this is one of our consultants, Babet Spellbound."

  "Spellbound?" The man studied her. "A witch?"

  Babet nodded.

  "Thank you for finding Cicero."

  "Not a common name," Babet said.

  The man shrugged. "His father taught Latin in high school. My friend's name is about the only thing he approved of…and he chose it."

  Cicero lay, propped up with pillows. His eyes fluttered open when they went to stand beside his bed. He looked like a blond, blue-eyed Adonis. Babet had never seen such a lovely man. He frowned at them. "Are you the ones who found me? Rescued me?"

  Abe shook his head. "Not me, but she was part of the team."

  Cicero looked at Babet. "Thank you. I don't think my body would have survived much longer." He frowned. "You're the one who pressed her hands on me and healed me, aren't you?"

  "You could feel that?" Babet thought he was too far gone to sense anything.

  "It was like a stream of sunshine running through my veins. It was wonderful."

  She blinked. She'd never really known what it felt like when she did that. A stream of sunshine—the image pleased her. "How are you now?"

  "Weak, but the doctors say that once I eat and gain strength, I'll be fine."

  She hesitated. "Would you mind answering some questions for me? So that I understand the wraith more?"

  "She's insatiable," Cicero said. "She never leaves you alone. She drains you, then someone feeds your body and you gain a little strength, and she drains you again."

  "There's nothing else? She doesn't talk to you, laugh with you?"

  "How could she? I hated
her, wanted it to end."

  Babet thought about that. "Surely there are men who enjoyed being with her."

  "Oh, she had plenty of those. She frolicked with them when I was too weak to bring her pleasure. Those men came and went, from one dream of theirs to the next."

  Babet's hands curled into fists. Her nails bit into her palms. "So why take you? Why not enjoy the men who enjoy her?"

  "Because she can take us, can't she? We have no defenses against her."

  "She made no effort to please you? To make you happy?"

  Cicero sighed. He glanced at the man in the corner chair. "Women don't please me, do they? That's why I'm with James. We've been together a long time."

  His admission made Babet hate Nola even more. She worded her next question carefully. "When we freed you, was Nola there?"

  "She was there." His tone was sardonic. "And she wasn't happy. She tried to come to me here, but I was too drugged for her to claim me again."

  Abe tensed beside her. Babet felt hot fury sear through her veins.

  "She's trying to take you back? When she knows there's no one to care for your body, so that you'd survive?" Babet asked.

  "Oh, but this is even better, isn't it?" Cicero said. "The doctors and nurses will pump me full of tubes to keep my body healthy. Since she's lost Zulime, Nola will probably look for a nurse to care for her victims. We'll last longer."

  Babet couldn't hide her disgust. "We can't let her take you."

  "Is there a way to stop her?" James rose from his chair and came to stand beside Cicero's hospital bed, taking his hand. "I searched for Cicero. I won't lose him again."

  Cicero's expression crumpled. "James never gave up on me."

  Babet's shoulders slumped. She hated feeling so powerless. "We could keep you drugged for a while, but that won't work long term."

  "So there's nothing we can do?" James persisted.

  "Not right now, but we're looking for answers. If we have enough time…."

  Cicero nodded. "Then drug me up. I don't want to go back there, and if I overdose, it will be a blessing."

  When she and Abe left Cicero's room, they went to visit the second man who'd been in the house.

  This man sat in a chair next to his bed, his arms crossed over his chest, looking like a thunder cloud ready to burst. Babet read the name over his bed. "Claude Bristol?" she said.

  "That's me. The nurse said I can't leave till I talk to you."

  "We'd like to ask you a few questions," Abe said.

  The man's black brows drew together in a frown. "I heard you talking to sissy Cicero. This must be the witch who messed up my time with Nola, right?"

  "She rescued you," Abe said.

  "What if I didn't want rescued?"

  Babet's hands went to her hips. Claude looked like the type who thought he was big and bad. He didn't have a clue. "She was letting Cicero waste away, wouldn't let him leave her dreamscape." She looked him up and down. "You look pretty healthy."

  "Fit as a fiddle. Nola and me…well…it's nothing serious. Just a little on the side."

  Babet studied him. "If she let Cicero come and go, like she does you, we wouldn't care. That's what other wraiths do. They seek pleasure, take it, and move on."

  "Do you know how much pleasure she gave Pretty Boy? Hell, if I died with Nola on top, I'd consider myself a lucky man."

  "Good for you! You must lead a rich and fulfilling life." Abe's voice dripped with sarcasm. Babet glanced at him, surprised. He must be spending too much time with the supernaturals. He was developing an attitude.

  Claude glared. "I do all right, but what woman can measure up to Nola?"

  Abe grimaced. "What woman wants to? Most of them have more on their plates than sex and more sex."

  "You must have kids." Claude looked Abe up and down. "You're probably working too many hours before you run home to car pool Junior to his next sports event. I’m guessing you ain't gettin' much fun in the sack."

  "You'd guess wrong. I'm guessing you're not married to anything but your truck or motorcycle. No wonder Nola looks good to you."

  Claude's broad hands curled into fists. "I was married once. Leyla screwed me over good. Don't need that again."

  Abe's eyes narrowed. "So now you visit Nola."

  "Whenever I'm in town." He glared at Abe. "I'm a trucker. When I have a lay-over here, I head to Zulime's place."

  Babet wanted specifics. "How long do your dreams usually last? Do you have to worry about surviving them?"

  Claude shook his head. "It's just quickies for Nola and me. I might stay a couple of hours or overnight. That's all. Just for fun."

  "And you can leave any time you want to?" Babet asked.

  "Yeah, we do our thing, I rest a little, and then I hit the road."

  "Why wouldn't she let Cicero do that?"

  Claude looked uncomfortable. "She has a little bit of a hang-up about guys who turn her down. Makes her determined to have them."

  "Then she shouldn't choose men who are already taken." Babet doubted Claude cared much about that, and he didn't disappoint.

  "It's not like they're really cheating, is it? It's all in the Netherworld."

  Abe took two steps away from them, as though he needed to distance himself from Claude. "When you were married, you wouldn't have cared if your wife crawled into bed with a guy from her dreams?"

  "Leyla? When I was on the road, she cheated with everyone. That's why we're divorced." Claude was growing impatient.

  Babet asked, "Do you always meet Nola in River City? Does she have more men stashed around the world?"

  "She meets men," Claude said, "but she only lingers in River City. She has…had…Zulime here."

  Babet let out a breath of relief. She'd worried there might be others, trapped in other locations, and she had no idea how to go about finding them.

  Claude noticed her shoulders relax. "I've told you what I know. Can I go now?"

  "Are there any others, like Cicero, that we should rescue?" Babet wanted to be sure.

  Claude shook his head. "She only keeps one favorite at a time. There was someone before Cicero and someone before that guy. But there's always only one. She was letting Cicero get pretty bad, so I'm thinking she was ready to take on a new one."

  "My life mate," Babet said. "But why not just let Cicero go? Set him free?"

  Claude ran a hand through his coarse, black hair. "When she takes a favorite, she doesn't like to share. I mean, it sort of sucks, the way she lets the guy just lay there and starve. But that's the way she is—always has been, at least, since I've known her."

  Babet's palms itched. Part of her wanted to blast this guy. "You watched Cicero waste away and you never called anyone or tried to help him?"

  Claude crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive pose. He was pissed off, she could tell. "Look, lady, you've met Nola. What do you think she'd do to someone who crossed her? She could call me to her Netherworld and then have Zulime do who knows what to my body. And when I returned to it, it could be a living hell."

  Babet hadn't thought of that. But Claude was right. Nola wouldn't play nice. Voice low, she growled, "She's not taking Prosper."

  Claude's lips curled in a sarcastic smile. "How are you going to stop her?"

  "I'm a witch." Babet fisted her hands and energy raced along her knuckles. "I'll think of something."

  "Lady, you don't have a prayer. You have to be invited to the Netherworld, and Nola sure as hell isn't going to invite you."

  Babet bit out her words. "I was there. Nola called me. It was a trap."

  "You went to one place. That's how she does it. She invites you to one room, one meadow. That's all you see. It's a big place. Your man could be kept anywhere."

  "I'll find him."

  "If you say so." Claude started toward the door, but hesitated. "But if she wins? If she gets you lost and you're stranded there? Then you're stuck until your body rots."

  Babet nodded toward Abe. "I work with the supernatural division of Ri
ver City. If I don't bring Prosper back, someone will come for us."

  Claude let out a long breath. "You don't know what you're up against, witch. How do you fight smoke and dreams?" He shook his head, then hurried out the door.

  Abe looked at Babet. "You don't intend to give up, do you?"

  "No one hurts someone I care about."

  Abe grinned. "What do we do now?"

  "I'm going home. I have spell books to study."

  He nodded. "Good luck to you. It was nice meeting Prosper's wife. We met Hatchet's Colleen, and she'd kill anyone or anything that messed with him. We weren't sure about you, but we should have known. Those two wouldn't settle for just anyone."

  "Neither would Colleen or I. We all got lucky." And no one…or no thing was going to change that. Nola was a wraith gone wrong, and it was time someone disposed of her.

  * * * *

  Dusk painted the city with pinks and golds as Babet pulled into the narrow parking space behind her bungalow. When she opened the car door, she could hear the cool splashes of water in their courtyard's fountain. She sighed. Just the sound helped her relax. The aromas of Creole and Cajun drifted on the air from nearby restaurants. The air felt cooler now that the sun slanted close to the horizon. Soon, the sun would set, and vampires would be out and about.

  Babet thought of Colleen, Hatchet's wife. She flew to Lillian's bordello before the sun rose each morning and flew home when the sun set. A happy arrangement for both her and Lillian, having a vampire who worked "days" at the reception desk and did all of the paperwork. Happy for Colleen, too. She could be home with Hatchet at the end of his work days. Colleen had given up a very lucrative clientele to marry her Druid.

  With a contented sigh, Babet kicked off her sandals and padded, barefoot, over the patio's cool cement. Morgana slithered to greet her. "Both men are all right," Babet told her snake. "We saved Cicero in time."

  The snake's tongue darted.

  "Yeah, not a name you hear too often," Babet agreed. She opened the French doors that led to the kitchen. The ceramic tiles felt even cooler underfoot, since she'd left the air conditioner on. She poured herself a glass of wine and grabbed a tub of hummus and a box of crackers before heading to her favorite lawn chair. She'd missed supper, but wasn't all that hungry. She let her body relax and stretched her legs. Prosper loved her legs.