Page 91 of Cookbooks and Demons

She looked away to the rest of the room. All of the cooks that she could see had black eyes.

They were all demons.

Chapter 47

A Kitchen Fullof Demons

“She’s not for you,” Rafferty’s voice said, his arm cutting in front of the swirling eyes and breaking the creature’s focus. It blinked once, then narrowed its strange eyes angrily at the other demon.

“Fix your sight,” Rafferty growled low.

“I see why you chose her, Lares. She’s an old, old soul,” the demon hissed, his eyes shifting to Rafferty. “Yes. Very nice. Does she taste delicious as youonce did?”

Rafferty didn’t react to the baiting. “Fix your eyes. You agreed to obey mein this.”

The demon grinned smugly and looked back to Helena. “He is being very uncouth and rude, is he not, my dear? He isn’t even introducing us. Oh well. I look forward to getting to know you better when he drags you down with the rest of us… as Idid him.”

Helena’s heart beat faster, and she grabbed for Rafferty’s hand. A vision of this creature tearing her throat out crossed through her mind, and the demon’s grin grew larger, as if he were the one who putit there.

The demon’s eyes noted her hand clasping at Rafferty’s. “Oh that’s sweet. She thinks you’re going to save her. Well, it’s too late, tasty little old soul. The deal has already been struck, hasn’t it?”

Rafferty pulled his hand out of her grasp and planted it on her bare shoulder instead, pushing her back and awayroughly.

“Fix your eyes,” he repeated to the demon, “or you forfeit ourbargain.”

The creature narrowed its whirlpool eyes, then blinked once before rapidly fluttering them. When he opened them again, his black eyes had shifted color to a light hazel. “That goes for all of you!” Rafferty barked to the room. “Keep your eyes on your tasks.”

All of the demons turned to him for a few moments, like they were confused, but then a few got it, and eye colors began to shift across the room, hiding the last telltale sign of their unnaturalness.

Satisfied, Rafferty turned back to Helena, resetting his hand on her bare shoulder firmly to steerher away.

“My name is Vassago, by the way—” the chopping demon tried to add, but Rafferty whisked her away to his workstation, unable to even respond if she wanted to, which she didn’t.

Once there, Rafferty gestured to a prepared plate sitting there. “Do you approve?”he asked.

Helena blinked at the plate, trying to parse what she was seeing. A prepared quail sat in the prominent position on the plate beside a fluffy mound of whipped potatoes with something melted on top. By the smell of it gruyere. A second little mound of potatoes was smooshed next to it, and Helena realized it formed a tiny igloo on the plate. Next to that were little Parisian carrots all sliced up to their tops and pressed to make little fan-shapes, resting upright on a small pile of some sort of greens, like a little merry vegetable fire. Next to that were two little round mounds of herb butter with two tiny, tiny herb branches sticking out to make asnowman.

“It looks delicious,” Helena said truthfully.

Rafferty growled in his throat. “I know it does, but is it an acceptable presentation for your event?”

Helena blinked at the plate, not really sure what she was supposed to be looking for, but she struggled for specific words. “It looks festive and on theme. Like a mini holiday dinner. Can Itaste it?”

He handed her a fork. The first bite sent familiar happy shivers through her. “The meat is tender,” she started to say, then grabbed his hand and offered him a bite.

But instead of accepting it, he snapped his hand out of her grip. “I don’t need to taste it,” he said as he took a step awayfrom her.

“What? What do you mean?” she asked, trulyconfused.

He seized a glass of the wine and presented it to her. “This is the wine pairing. Do youapprove?”

Helena set the fork down as her throat tightened with needles. She just couldn’t eat anything anymore. If she did, she knew she would choke.

“Rafferty, what is going on here? Who are all these people? And why are you acting so differently?”

“You know what they are,” he said, poignantly only answering one of her questions. Angrily, he set down the wineglass she wouldn’t take. Picking up a knife, he slid a Parisian carrot in front of himself and sliced the round vegetable in quick motions so that it formed the fan-shape when he pressed it down. He set that one against the first carrot fan to make a more layered “fire” look.

“Yes, but Rafferty…” She turned to throw her gaze acrossthe room.

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