The Witching Hour | ✎

four

a/n: double update today, cause' i'm eager to get the ball rolling, so to speak. 

four

🔮— 🔮

Dinner was not at seven o'clock. In fact, by that time, it wasn't even halfway done. Callie had slipped downstairs and half-hoped there to be food on the table, but had swiftly been recruited to the salad-chopping army as Lucian stirred a pot on the stove. With the entire Karr family's combined efforts, they had a semi-presentable dinner ready within thirty minutes.

Even if she'd already turned eighteen, it was customary in the Karr family to sit down to the family meal. In fact, it was expected — and though she would never admit it, it was one of the things Callie would miss most when she inevitably moved out.

As they sat down, Callie let her dads do the talking while she munched. Jesse was letting loose some frustrations about a client — working as a lawyer who took on supernatural customers was more tedious than people realized — while Lucian nodded sympathetically. After Jesse had finished his venting, the unavoidable happened — the conversation turned to Callie.

"So, how was school?" Luce picked up his glass of wine, swirling it as he looked at his daughter.

"You know — the usual." Callie shrugged, spooned more stew, " — nothing much."

Luce shot a look Jesse's way, and they exchanged a knowing nod.

"You ran into the Gaumont boy, didn't you?"

Callie sputtered. Jesse thumped his daughter's back, winking at his husband at the conversational bull's eye they'd both hit.

"I did not." Callie started, scowling at them both, "He ran into me."

"Ah, so something did happen." Jesse picked up his wine, now, looking expectantly at his daughter.

Callie imagined sewing her lips shut.

"Speak, little demon child, or we put you through expensive schooling for nothing." Luce goaded, eyes gleaming. Jesse chuckled, though he said nothing, either, awaiting her response.

Shoulders sinking, Callie let out a sigh. She could never say no to her fathers — knew that they worried more than they should, mostly because of the powers she'd been born with. Just as with Neema and Holden, she would do her utmost to keep Inferno or any of its contents as far from her family as possible.

That firm line she'd drawn was what worried her fathers, who prized honesty and trust.

When it was clear Callie wouldn't — couldn't — elaborate on her powers, on what she did in the Dark Realms, they'd cautiously suggested counselling, or therapy, if she was more comfortable with that. She wasn't, not at all, and there was nothing she wanted more than to talk to her family about it, but bringing thoughts of demons and hell here ... it was too much.

I'll stick my yoga and meditation, and that's that, Callie thought.

"Well?" Luce prodded, pushing the bowl of salad closer to Callie when he saw her running low, "Mind telling us?"

"It wasn't what you think," Callie started, reaching for the salad bowl, " — I had to break up a fight."

Jesse arched a brow, "Let's just be clear — one you didn't start?"

"Stentz hasn't called home, so I think we're safe," Luce mumbled.

Callie narrowed her eyes at him.