Curses and Cream Puffs
Chapter Eight
The journey back to Damien’s home was less tense than their trip to Landoxe had been, though Lena was feeling some reluctance about their new arrangement. Her plan had been to leave in a few weeks, and she couldn’t stay in his house forever. But she couldn’t exactly pass up an opportunity to save some innocent witches.
And there was one particularly big problem that they couldn’t solve.
“What’s going to happen if your family finds out I’m a witch?” Lena asked when they were home. Damien down his bag and glanced at her.
“What?”
“Your family. You know, your family full of witch hunters? Very famous witch hunters? I saw your last name on the order your father gave you. The Astor’s have killed a lot of witches over the years. Now here I am, a witch, living just a few miles away from Rupert Astor. He’ll rip my limbs off and hang them on the wall as trophies if he finds out.”
“He has no reason to suspect you’re a witch. No one does.”
“It’s still a huge risk, and you have no obligation not to lie and say I enchanted you or something if we get caught.”
“You still don’t trust me?” Damien sighed. “After all this?”
Lena was quiet for a moment. “My family was killed by hunters,” she said finally. “And I’ve seen them do a lot of terrible things. You seem to be different but it’s hard to just...block that out and trust someone who wears that emblem on their shirt.”
“I get that, I guess,” Damien said. “But technically you’re under no obligation not to turn me into a snail and step on me. So if we’re going to work together, we have to trust each other.”
“Fine, you’re right. But if you try to throw me to the wolves, I will turn you into a snail.“
“I didn’t have plans to throw you anywhere. I’ll make sure my family doesn’t know about you, and you can stop messing up my things and not turn me into anything. Can we agree to that at least?”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
She went to the kitchen and dug out some veggies for Duchess to eat and then started making some fruit tarts.
“You’re not going to start selling pastries out of my house, are you?”
“It’s just what I do,” Lena said. “I have a knack for it and it relaxes me when I have a lot on my mind.”
“So, I don’t mean to pry, but...how long exactly have you been living on your own?”
“I was eight when the hunters came.” Lena rolled out her pastry dough. “My father wasn’t a witch, but he knew my mother was one. Knew that I was one. He didn’t care, he loved us and he knew that there were good witches. He was one of the rare few who tried to defend witches; said the way people treat them was immoral. My mother was...different. Soft spoken, beautiful. But you could just tell there was something special about her. I don’t think it was possible for her to truly hide that she was a witch. So it was only a matter of time before hunters came. My mother enchanted the pantry, and put me inside it. I was perfectly hidden. She told me not to come out no matter what happened.
They broke the door completely off its hinges. They didn’t detain them, didn’t even interrogate them. They just wrestled my father to the ground, kicking him, and my mother reacted, knocking them all back with a gust of wind. She didn’t hurt anyone, but they knew she really was a witch. So they attacked her, and she tried to hold them off but another man had come in the back door. No one saw him in time. He...he cut her throat. And my father went crazy, trying to fight his way to her as she fell. But they killed him too for being a witch sympathizer. Then they dragged their bodies away and I just hid in that pantry cupboard for hours.”
Lena layered fruit into her tarts, hiding behind her hair as she swiped at her eyes. She cleared her throat. “I was on my own after that. I was taken in for a while by an older, wealthy couple. It was winter time and a snowstorm had kicked up. I had collapsed in front of their house and they let me stay on and help in the kitchen. When they realized how good I was at baking they started having me make beautiful cakes and things for parties. Eventually people wanted to hire me to make things for them. The couple I worked for passed away, and they left me a little money in their will.
And that’s how I ended up with my little cottage, selling pies and minding my own business until some jackass decided to report me to your father. Now I’m here.”
Lena finished her tarts and slid them into the oven to bake. Damien sat quietly at the table. Lena smoothed our her apron and looked at him.
“I suppose you’ll have to go see your father again tomorrow,” she said. “To tell him how the mission went?”
“Yes, he’ll want me to report back as soon as possible.”
“Was he angry about your ‘elopement?’”
“He doesn’t care much about my life outside of my role in the hunter legacy. My mother wasn’t exactly thrilled about it though.”
“Is she a hunter too?”
“No, not even close.”
“Then you can extend my apologies to her.” Lena tossed her apron aside. “You can take her one of these raspberry tarts as a peace offering, daughter in law to mother in law.”
Damien rolled his eyes but he almost smiled.
And there was one particularly big problem that they couldn’t solve.
“What’s going to happen if your family finds out I’m a witch?” Lena asked when they were home. Damien down his bag and glanced at her.
“What?”
“Your family. You know, your family full of witch hunters? Very famous witch hunters? I saw your last name on the order your father gave you. The Astor’s have killed a lot of witches over the years. Now here I am, a witch, living just a few miles away from Rupert Astor. He’ll rip my limbs off and hang them on the wall as trophies if he finds out.”
“He has no reason to suspect you’re a witch. No one does.”
“It’s still a huge risk, and you have no obligation not to lie and say I enchanted you or something if we get caught.”
“You still don’t trust me?” Damien sighed. “After all this?”
Lena was quiet for a moment. “My family was killed by hunters,” she said finally. “And I’ve seen them do a lot of terrible things. You seem to be different but it’s hard to just...block that out and trust someone who wears that emblem on their shirt.”
“I get that, I guess,” Damien said. “But technically you’re under no obligation not to turn me into a snail and step on me. So if we’re going to work together, we have to trust each other.”
“Fine, you’re right. But if you try to throw me to the wolves, I will turn you into a snail.“
“I didn’t have plans to throw you anywhere. I’ll make sure my family doesn’t know about you, and you can stop messing up my things and not turn me into anything. Can we agree to that at least?”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
She went to the kitchen and dug out some veggies for Duchess to eat and then started making some fruit tarts.
“You’re not going to start selling pastries out of my house, are you?”
“It’s just what I do,” Lena said. “I have a knack for it and it relaxes me when I have a lot on my mind.”
“So, I don’t mean to pry, but...how long exactly have you been living on your own?”
“I was eight when the hunters came.” Lena rolled out her pastry dough. “My father wasn’t a witch, but he knew my mother was one. Knew that I was one. He didn’t care, he loved us and he knew that there were good witches. He was one of the rare few who tried to defend witches; said the way people treat them was immoral. My mother was...different. Soft spoken, beautiful. But you could just tell there was something special about her. I don’t think it was possible for her to truly hide that she was a witch. So it was only a matter of time before hunters came. My mother enchanted the pantry, and put me inside it. I was perfectly hidden. She told me not to come out no matter what happened.
They broke the door completely off its hinges. They didn’t detain them, didn’t even interrogate them. They just wrestled my father to the ground, kicking him, and my mother reacted, knocking them all back with a gust of wind. She didn’t hurt anyone, but they knew she really was a witch. So they attacked her, and she tried to hold them off but another man had come in the back door. No one saw him in time. He...he cut her throat. And my father went crazy, trying to fight his way to her as she fell. But they killed him too for being a witch sympathizer. Then they dragged their bodies away and I just hid in that pantry cupboard for hours.”
Lena layered fruit into her tarts, hiding behind her hair as she swiped at her eyes. She cleared her throat. “I was on my own after that. I was taken in for a while by an older, wealthy couple. It was winter time and a snowstorm had kicked up. I had collapsed in front of their house and they let me stay on and help in the kitchen. When they realized how good I was at baking they started having me make beautiful cakes and things for parties. Eventually people wanted to hire me to make things for them. The couple I worked for passed away, and they left me a little money in their will.
And that’s how I ended up with my little cottage, selling pies and minding my own business until some jackass decided to report me to your father. Now I’m here.”
Lena finished her tarts and slid them into the oven to bake. Damien sat quietly at the table. Lena smoothed our her apron and looked at him.
“I suppose you’ll have to go see your father again tomorrow,” she said. “To tell him how the mission went?”
“Yes, he’ll want me to report back as soon as possible.”
“Was he angry about your ‘elopement?’”
“He doesn’t care much about my life outside of my role in the hunter legacy. My mother wasn’t exactly thrilled about it though.”
“Is she a hunter too?”
“No, not even close.”
“Then you can extend my apologies to her.” Lena tossed her apron aside. “You can take her one of these raspberry tarts as a peace offering, daughter in law to mother in law.”
Damien rolled his eyes but he almost smiled.