Curses and Cream Puffs

Lena wasn’t surprised that the Mortecombes may have been holding a grudge after she and Damien had dodged two of their attacks. She knew the family had a habit of taking revenge, and she knew she’d likely embarrassed Oksana by beating her. And burning down her tavern. She was worried though, about getting into a magical feud in a city full of famous hunters. If the Mortecombes came after her and Damien, it would be hard to meet concealing that she was a witch.

“Why are the Mortecombes so interested in us?” Damien asked and Lena looked up from the book she’d been half-heartedly trying to read.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “You got blood on Caleb’s suit. He’s very fussy.”

“But why did he even come here in the first place? Just because we got away from his sister?”

Lena rapped her fingers against the book. “No,” she said slowly. “Not exactly. He came for us because his family owned that tavern and I’m sort of the one who set it on fire.”

“You are?” Damien frowned. Lena sighed and set her book aside.

“Damien, there’s something I should probably tell you. I’ve been content living a quiet life of making vaguely magical pies and minding my own business. But my family...was a very powerful line of witches.”

“As powerful as the Mortecombes?”

“More so. My great-grandmother helped hold the line against the Coven of the Red Thorn when they were desecrating villages and massacring people. It cost her her life eventually, but she saved a lot of people. Witches and ordinary people alike. She saved an entire town from the Red Thorns before she died. The other witches with her had all been wiped out, but she kept fighting until the Red Thorns were defeated and the curse they’d been trying to cast was disarmed. It’s generally believed that my line died out entirely, but I’m the last of the Redferne witches. We’re pretty well known in the witch world, I guess sort of like how your family are such famous hunters. I don’t think Oksana guesses at who I am, but she definitely wasn’t expecting me to be a threat. The fact that you’re a hunter who pissed off Caleb is just icing on the cake that is their destroyed property.”

“So you’re a famous witch?” Damien said.

“Technically, but not really, because no one knows about Lena Redferne. Everyone thought my mother was the last of us, and she tried so hard to live a normal, simple life that word never spread about her getting married and having a child.”

“So you don’t go by the name Redferne?”

Lena shrugged. “I go by Lena Witt, because that was my father’s last name. Witches don’t generally change their names because lineage is important to us and a lot of names are very old. But I wanted to keep a low profile and Witt isn’t a witch surname. Redferne would be too recognizable to many witches, and possibly to some hunters; assuming any of them bother doing proper research on witches and magic.”

Damien sat back, looking lost in thought. “Well. Wow. All this time, I had no idea I was working with a witchy celebrity.”

Lena snorted. “Oh, please.”

“So then you really could have turned me into a frog or a snail or something when we met,” he said, smiling slightly.

“I couldn’t turned you into a dandelion and then blew all your little dandelion fluff away, but I don’t like using my magic to harm anyone if it can be avoided. I only act defensively if I have no other choice. Oksana didn’t give me a choice, so I had to fight her. And I won,” she added, a little smug. “The Mortecombes are an arrogant bunch. Any slight against their pride must be avenged.”

“Clearly.” Damien glanced at the paper on the table, with the warning symbol drawn on it. “So is that why you don’t seem concerned about their threat?”

“Oh, I’m concerned. If they attack here I’ll have to fight back and that could potentially reveal my identity. But the Mortecombes aren’t stupid. They won’t want to draw too much attention to themselves and wind up facing down a swarm of witch hunters. So maybe they’ll be quiet and careful about it, or they’ll attack us somewhere else. They’re strong, but I think we can beat them if we’re on our guard.” She arched an eyebrow. “We’ll just have to keep you away from Oksana this time, lest you fall under her spell again.”

Damien’s ears turned red and Lena smirked. “Don’t worry,” she said, “you didn’t do anything too embarrassing. You just kinda sat there like a lump. I heard that sometimes she makes men follow her like a puppy. Literally, on all fours with their tongues hanging out. She really gets a kick out of that, apparently.”

“That’s...awful.” Damien grimaced. “You’d tell me if she did something like that to me, right? Because I can barely remember anything.”

“I promise, you didn’t do any panting and no one scratched your belly.” She grinned and poked his side with her foot as Damien rolled his eyes. Lena yelped as he grabbed her foot and tugged her closer, pinning her down and tickling her.

“I can still turn you into a snail,” she said between giggles as she tried to squirm away. “And cook you in butter.”

“It’ll save me the trouble of buying bigger pants,” Damien joked. Lena wiggled like a hooked fish and wound up just causing both of them to fall off the couch.

“Vengeance!” she cried, pouncing on top of him and poking at him. He tried to flail away but was wedged into the space between the table and the couch and didn’t have much room to flee her tickling and poking.

“Okay, truce!” he shouted. “I wave the white flag and surrender.”

“To the victor go the spoils,” Lena said, raising her arms in triumph as Damien sat up.

“Unfair tactics,” he said.

“All is fair in love and war, Astor.” Lena tousled his hair and then pulled him into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist and then a heavy knock sounded at the door. They untangled and Lena sat back with a huff. Smiling, Damien went to answer the door. Lena scrambled to her feet when she saw Louis standing there and he smirked unpleasantly at her rumpled dress.

“What do you want, Louis?” Damien asked, moving slightly to block his brother’s view of her. “I thought you were out in assignments.”

“I was. They’re all wrapped up now. Not as quietly as yours,” he added, sounding slightly resentful. It clearly bothered him that Damien was getting so much praise from their father lately. “Dad has more jobs for you, and Mom wants you and the little wife to come by for dinner tonight.”

“You came here just to give me a dinner invitation?” Damien sounded wary. Louis shoved a few papers into Damien’s hand.

“These are your assignments. Dad wants you to get to them as soon as possible. I know you’re having fun attending weddings and all but there are witches out there to kill.”

Lena flinched and she saw Damien’s shoulders tense slightly.

“Yeah, thanks for the message,” he muttered. Louis had been slouching against the doorframe but had to step hurriedly back as Damien shut the door on him.

“That was weird,” Lena remarked. “Does he normally bring your assignments to you?”

“No.” Damien walked back to her and set the papers on the table. “I guess he just came by to brag that he finished jobs too. He’s in a one-sided competition.”

“Well, before we go to your parents’ for dinner I’m going to put some protection warding around the house. In case the Mortecombes are stupid enough to come after us here or try to break in while we’re gone.“

“Do you think they’ll attack us on the road?”

“It’s possible. They have a lot of connections and will probably find some way to keep tabs on us now that we’re marked. We’re just going to have to watch our backs.”