Page 94 of Cookbooks and Demons

“She looks like she is on death’s door,” another woman commented snottily, only to get nudged in the ribs. “What?” she asked, then followed a none-too discreet fork jab in Helena’s direction. “What? What about her? I don’t understand you, Harold,” she said just as loudly and with a complete lack of self-awareness.

Yet, Helena couldn’t even be offended. All she could think about was the cake. And about the demon who made it.

“If you will all excuse me, I need to check on something in the kitchen. I’ll be back,” she assured.

“You see what you did,” the woman’s husband chided as Helena moved quickly away.

It proved to be a challenge to get through the room with everyone stopping to congratulate her on a successful event. It took Éliott coming up to her and saying there was an urgency in the kitchen that required her attention to disengage her.

“Thank you,” she whispered to him as she escaped down the fake ice tunnel.

Despite steeling herself for whatever she needed to say, it was still a shock to walk into the kitchen. The servers were still moving in and out with desserts and wine, but the preparation areas where the majority of the cooking happened were completely empty.

All the cooks and assistants were gone.

The stations were all cleaned up and spotless as if nobody had been there.

All but one.

At Rafferty’s station, the final cakes were being prepped. Each slice of the layered icebox cake had been plated. He stood before them, tearing apart one of the flower arrangements. It looked like one of the dozen larger ones that had been by the entrance. With a paring knife, he pruned off the flowers to add the last embellishments to his dessert.

She approached his station slowly, not sure what she was going to say to him, instead watching as his fingers flew. He moved quickly, gathering the newly cut buds and setting each on the plate. He never adjusted the impromptu garnish once it was set; each flower seemed to find its perfect place instantly. A waitress approached the station to take the final tray just as hefinished.

“Go, go, go,” he barked, waving away the tray as he dropped the last flower in place. For a second, he turned back and forth, looking for the next thing to do, but that was it. He had finished. So his hands found his towel to wipe the remaining torn up leaves toward the garbage can byhis hip.

Only then did his eyes drift up to her. “It is done,”he said.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, looking again at the otherwise spotlesskitchen.

“They’ve all returned back to where they are supposed to be,”he said.

“But…”

“What?”

She licked her lips. “What about what they’re … owed?”

“I’ve already taken care of it,” he said. “I bound them to me and paid their prices in order to keep them under control and everyone safe.”

Warily, Helena stared at him. “Rafferty,” she said softly, calling for his attention, but he still refused to give it. “What did you pay them with?”

Suddenly, Rafferty stumbled, collapsingbackward.

Chapter 49

It Got

Serious

Suddenly, Rafferty stumbled, collapsingbackward.

The only reason he didn’t land on the ground was his hand slamming onto the counter behind him, keeping himupright.

“Rafferty!” she cried and ran around the workstation to get tohis side.

“Is he alright?” one of the waitresses asked as she fetched more wine.

“No, of course he’s not alright,” Éliott said, coming up to chase the waitress back out to the floor. “The man just pulled off a miracle. I’m surprised he is still standing at all. Now get a move on. Table eighteen needs refreshing.”

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