Curses and Cream Puffs

Damien could feel Louis' glare on him throughout dinner. Lena and Emelia did most of the chatting, while Damien and Louis drifted into the background. Rupert showed up late, just in time for dessert. Damien nearly choked on his sorbet when his father showed up. With a smile on his face. Louis seemed just as rattled by the sight, wondering what had happened while he was gone. Emelia, on the other hand, was absolutely beaming. Clearly she was happy about this change in her husbands character.

Rupert walked to his seat, giving Louis a pat on the back on his way and ruffling Damien's hair. Louis choked again, falling into a coughing fit. Damien glanced at Lena and noticed she was hiding a small smile behind her napkin.

"Excuse me for being late," Rupert said with a grin, kissing his wife on the cheek before sitting down. "A few of the boys and I decided to start playing rugby a few times a week. Seems we ran a little longer than expected tonight."

"Rugby?" Louis asked. "Can... can you play rugby? With your back?"

"Ever since Lena gave me that wonderful salve, I feel like I can take on the world," he said, relaxing back in his chair. "I feel like a young man again. Back when I was in my prime. Back when I could join the hunt."

He slammed his fist on the table when he said that, making everyone jump. Lena's smile wavered just slightly, and Damien gently touched her knee under the table. He looked at Louis again, but this time Louis' gaze had turned to Lena. Damien couldn't read his brother's expression, but it didn't seem good.

"Not that he's hunting," Emelia said, giving him a warning look. "He's retired, after all. Now we've got our two wonderful, successful boys to carry his name. Isn't that so?"

"That's right," Rupert nodded. "And Lena, to carry Damien."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Lena said. "I'm just a housewife, really."

"That's not true," Damien insisted. "She's much more than that."

Lena gave him a smile and squeezed his hand lightly.

"There's nothing wrong with being a housewife," Emelia said. "Neither of these boys would have survived past infancy if they were left in the hands of their father."

"What are you talking about?" Louis scoffed. "We were raised by five different nannies."

"Six," Damien corrected. "There was the one who lasted a week and had that mole on her nose."

Emelia turned red wand awkwardly cleared her throat.

"I think we should move to the parlor for some wine, yes?"

The rest of the night went fairly smoothly, though Damien noticed his father getting progressively more exhausted and antisocial. By the end of the night, he had reverted completely back to his gruff old ways. Emelia excused him, saying he was just tired. Lena was right about the trace amounts of magic. They made a difference, but not enough to make them suspicious.

When they were finally able to go home, Damien took off his jacket and let it fall to the floor, flopping to the bed. Lena gave him a stern look and he sighed, getting up to put it away properly.

"I don't know if I can visit them again for a while," he said. "They just absorb all my energy. Like leeches."

"Your father was in a good mood, at least," she said. "I was surprised at how much you look like him when he smiles. It was comforting. Until the hunting stuff."

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," Damien grimaced. "For what its worth, he won't come out of retirement. He can't afford to lose his other eye, too."

"He won't," she agreed, "But what about all the others? And they'll pass it onto their sons and daughters. And they'll pass it onto their children."

Damien walked over to her and guided her to sit on the bed, sitting beside her and putting an arm around her.

"Hunters aren't born killers," he told her. "They're created, over years and years of training. In my case, that training wasn't enough to brainwash me. In cases like Louis, it is. I remember the day he snapped. He was eleven years old. We were both exhausted and sleep deprived, and our father took us out hunting. He shot down a squirrel, then stabbed the dead squirrel nearly twenty times. He was never the same after that."

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" she asked.

"My point is that he wasn't born the way he is," Damien said. "He was docile. He liked looking for mushrooms. If he had learned, at that age, that not all witches were terrible? If he had met you? Maybe he never would have snapped. What I'm trying to say is that all of this can be different someday. It can start with what we're doing, helping people here and there. I know there's no possible way that we're the only ones. Then it'll spread, until people start to open their eyes. That's how change happens."

She just stared ahead for a few moments. Duchess hopped up into her lap, and she finally smiled.

"You're right," she said. "We'll just have to keep going, won't we?"

"We will," he promised. "But first, I want to go to bed. I'm exhausted. And the rabbit doesn't get to sleep in the bed with us."

"She's a hare, and she wants to sleep in the warm bed."

"No."

"Yes."

It didn't matter much what Damien thought. He still woke up in the morning with fur in his mouth. Lena was sleeping soundly beside him and he reached out to touch her back, but Duchess hopped up between them and blocked his way.

"I see how it is," Damien mumbled. "You only want a stepdad when it's convenient for you."

Duchess just looked at him with her nose twitching. Damien stood up and ran a hand through his hair, stretching out his back before quietly going downstairs. His gaze moved to the list of reports Louis had given him. He hadn't even bothered looking through them yet. He yawned as he started to shuffle through the reports lazily, but his attention sharpened when he noticed something was off about them.

The reports were usually scattered, but these all seemed to be near each other. He'd be gone for at least a week, just in one town. Besides that, there wasn't much information on what he was supposed to be looking for. That could easily tack on another week for finding the targets. He read them over again, brow furrowed. It made no sense. Jadire. Hadn't Louis just been to Jadire? Or nearby, at least. Why hadn't he taken care of it while he was there?

Damien set down the papers, scratching his chin in thought. He supposed the reports didn't have to make sense. They could have been the result of disputes among bitter people, like what they had witnessed before.

Either way, the reports had to be investigated.