Page 43

I Acte d Without Thinking

Renewed fire burned through Rafferty’s veins as he charged back into the ballroom. Even if Helena didn’t take him back, he wasn’t going to let her pay any prices that wer en’t hers.

But she’ll be fine , a nagging voice in his head said. Even if she paid the whole price and was dragged into… well, not hell, but the oth er place…

But she loves this life , another thought whispered. She loves this life, and she’s risking giv ing it up.

And for the moment, Vassago expected him to help Eleanor. Scarlet and he had agreed that being where Vassago expected bought them all some time to figure this out.

As much as he hated it, he marched straight up to Eleanor. She was in the midst of stirring up some sort of batter. She paused, her eyes going wide as he formed up beside her table, tucking his hands behind his back formally. “What do you need?” he asked.

Eleanor’s gaze searched his face a moment, her mouth partially open with a hundred questions. Instead of asking them, she nodded to the cookbook beside her. Nana’s cookbook. “We’re making my grandmother’s savo ry slice.”

He came around her to look down at the rough sketch drawn out on one of the mostly blank pages. A printed recipe at the top only took up three lines, leaving a mostly open page. He grinned at the recipe drawn out below.

This had been o ne of his!

He remembered the joke of it. Nana had wanted ham sandwiches for some event, but fancy. He had given her fancy , alright.

He skimmed a finger over the lines that pointed to different layers in the sketch, listing them out. He could deduce now that Eleanor was working on the walnut sponge for the bottom of the slice. Glancing over at the stove, he spied the gammon, a pork hind leg, simmering in broth. From what he could smell, she had added flavorings like coriander seeds, peppercorn, and onions. Maybe even a little cinnamon.

But for an event like this, she shouldn’t have been able to make gammon in the time allowed. “How did you acquire this?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Eleanor asked, giving not hing away.

“This takes a day to boil, to get all the impurities out,” h e pressed.

“It was prepared beforehand. Don’t worry. It has been prepared appropriately,” she said, meeting his gaze wit h her own.

“But the second event was only changed a little bit ago,” he said carefully.

Her gaze did n’t waver.

So this move to sabotage the second round was planned all along, he thought. Either that, or she had Vassago manifest this por k for her.

As if she could hear the question, she sighed, “I prepared it entirely myself from a place I source pork from. I trust them implicitly. It is… u ntainted.”

Rafferty took a deep, fortifying breath. “You are a good chef,” he acknowledged, voicing what the feeling inside told him. It was the same as saying “I bel ieve you.”

He nodded toward the wine bottles on her counter. “I’ll begin preparing the po rt jelly.”

She nodded. There wasn’t much more to say after that. Time wa s ticking.

They worked together seamlessly, as if they had worked in the same kitchen all their lives. He found the ingredients he needed already lined up on the counter, while she got her crust laid out and into the ba king unit.

The other two teams that remained did not seem to be having the same poetry of motion. One set wasn’t even in the same library, their sharp words to each other carrying their stress across the space, while he and Eleanor constructed the ir layers.

Before he knew it, Rafferty was slicing and plating the savories, while Eleanor dressed each with a pickled walnut, dried prosciutto, and a crisp of fried cheese arranged artful ly on top.

“These are perfect,” she approved. “They look exactly the same.”

“Of course, they do,” he said as he set the last piece on the ser ving tray.

Eleanor laughed. “That’s your serious facade, isn’t it?”

“Oui, madame,” he said, the itch of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. A familiar pride settled into his chest as he stepped back from their work, wiping his hands.

“You know,” Eleanor said, grabbing up her own towel to wipe with. “I did try to summon you after Helena gave me the cookbook.”

The ease Rafferty had felt immediately dissipated. Eleanor studied his reaction, smirking. “It didn’t work, of course.” She tucked a piece of rogue hair back behind her ear. “You know, this isn’t the first time we met? Do you remember m e at all?”

Slowly he shook his h ead. “No.”

“From Nana’s kitchen? Really? I would have been a ch ild then.”

He set down the towel as he tried to, but there wa s nothing.

“Well, I remember you. It was because of you I wanted to become a chef. You and she were preparing some food for some sick neighbor of hers, and you let me help.” The way her cheeks pinked up, he got the impression that he had done more than in spire her.

And if she had intended to summon him, he understood clearly what she would have wanted from him.

It was a… miracle… the cookbook had ended up in Helena’s hands , instead.

“Are you ready?” a helper asked, gesturing toward the stage. They were clearly the only ones who were.

“Absolutely,” Eleanor said, gesturing for Rafferty to pick up the presentation tray like he was he r servant.

Yes, he clearly understood what she wanted from him.

The judges’ praises were over the top and fairly worthless. They had clearly won the round, even without the other entrants offering up their savories.

It would come down to points to determine who would be the third to make it through to the final round. Rafferty wasn’t worried a bout that.

As they retreated off the stage, one of the helpers met them. “Thank you so much for your work. We’re wondering if you would like to come over and do some quick interviews for us for the broadcast of this event. You know, just a real simple ‘who are you’ and any other color you want to share.”

“Sure, that would be excellent,” Eleanor said, beaming with her assured win at hand. She stepped in front of Rafferty, making it clear that she intended to go first, and he had absolutely no problem with that. He followed the both of them out of the ballroom, going through a familiar set of double doors that led into the main kitchen, where only a few months ago he had been preparing the dinner for the Winter Rose Ball.

No food was being created there today. Instead, it was being used as a sort of set with cameras set up on tripods and light stands brightening the place. Those who had already been eliminated from the competition were there giving their own i nterviews.

“This way,” the helper said, leading them past to another set of doors that led to the back loading dock area for the ballroom. “Oh, just her,” the helper added when they realized that Rafferty was still following.

“You can wait here,” Eleanor said, indicating a set of stools set up along the side of the kitchen. A couple of people were already waiting there for their turns to be in terviewed.

The door fell closed between him and Eleanor with no fur ther word.

Nothing about that made him feel right, but he wen t and sat.

He pulled out his phone and checked it for a message from Scarlet, but there was nothing. The worries he had been suppressing leapt to the front of his mind.

Why am I just sitting here? he asked himself, then answered. Because Eleanor t old me to.

Like she was his mistress or something. That realization jarred him up to his feet. He wasn’t obligated to obey anyone anymore. Also, escorting Eleanor out made little sense. All the equipment for the interviews was here. Did they have additional setups in the doc king area?

Needing to confirm, Rafferty stood up and pressed against the swinging door that led to that back area, opening a sm all crack.

There were only empty tables there and not hing else.

Leaning even more through the doors, he saw two figures moving away down the zigzag of the hallway. One of them was wearing a blue kerchief.

And he did not doubt where they w ere going.

Leaving the kitchen, he headed the direction he saw the two figures go. No one else was in the back loading dock, so he didn’t worry as he moved. He reached the first bend in the hallway just as the helper let a door fall closed before they turned and walked off the opposite way. There was no sign of the seco nd person.

Rafferty continued forward, undeterred, but to his surprise, when he got to the door festooned with caution tape, he found it empty. The circle inside sat quiet and still in the dark. If he hadn’t known it was there, he would have barely made it out at all. He had been sure they would have been heading this way.

Stepping back, perplexed, he looked up and down the hallway, his mortal eyes and ears straining for any hint of where Eleanor had gone.

Lacking direction, he went to the nearest door. To his surprise, it opened into another ballroom. This one was much smaller than the main one where the event was taking place. It was also empty and dark save for a figure standing at the end of the ballroom who Eleanor was walki ng toward.

Immediately, Rafferty ducked back, not letting the door fall closed entirely, but keeping his fingers between it and the jamb so that he could hear what was going on.

“And there she is,” the clear, boisterous voice of Vassago echoed in the smaller but still cavernous space. “How did the second round go? A succes s I hope?”

“Of course,” Eleanor said. “And I need to get back for the third round or this whole thing is pointless. What do you want?”

“Oh, darling girl, none of this is about what I want, it’s about getting you what you ultimately want. Isn’t th at right?”

“I don’t believe that for a moment,” Eleanor countered, her voic e guarded.

“Ah, yes. Occupational hazard,” he countered, not showing if he took an y offense.

He’s here to renegotiate, Rafferty realized a second before Vassago con firmed it.

“Well, then I’ll get right to the point. I need to make an adjustment to the deal.”

She crossed her arms. “Why? I’m clearly on the brink of winning.”

“Well, it’s not that simple, turns out,” Vassago said. “I just learned something that is going to put that all in jeopardy.”

“What?” Eleanor asked, her anger growing thick in her voice.

“Now, I just want to clarify that what has happened is not in any way my fault. But do not worry, I’m here to help you,” Vassago said, then looked over his shoulders in a show of checking for eavesdroppers. Not catching the actual eavesdropper nearby, he continued. “You’re going to get disq ualified.”

“What?! Why?” Eleanor asked, crossing her arms de fensively.

“You attracted attention, little dear. The BDI is watching Ms. Kovacs and your, frankly, dramatics with Lares on the competition floor have… well, it’s simply not surprising. I thought you would have been smarter t han this.”

Eleanor’s growl echoed in the o pen space.

Vassago had her right where he w anted her.

“Do something about it!” sh e shouted.

“I’m trying to, dear. Now, don’t yell at me,” he chided, opening his palms to her. “We just need to cancel this current deal and make ano ther one.”

“Eleanor! No, don’t!” a beautiful, familiar voice echoed in the space. Both Vassago and Eleanor turned to another set of doors closest to their right, just out of Rafferty’s view. Of course, there was another set of doors.

Helena appeared, and she glowed with her own light. She was struggling to keep her other visage from manifesting, the wings on her back and horns on her head flickering in and out of existence. Startled, Eleanor stepped back from her cousin, while Vassago slid easily between the other perceived competition for his prey.

“Oh, old soul, you aren’t looking so good. Ooo, you have a tail. Did you have a tail before?” he said, drawling his words out mockingly with a Southern accent that Rafferty had never heard him use before. It was offsetting and wrong.

He’s infusing his aura into his voice, Raffert y thought.

Helena ignored him, keeping her focus on Eleanor. “You have to stop, please,” she begged. “You’re going to lose everything if you keep going like this. Any deals with him are going to destroy you. There is no winning…” Then Helena groaned in pain, curling aroun d herself.

Dropping to her knees, she failed her fight to hold back her true form. The wings splayed out on either side of her as her skin paled to milky white edged with gold, casting light everywhere around her as bright as the full moon. Energy spun round and round the linking of her horns around her head until it seemed like one glowing circle t or halo.

“Helena?” Eleanor exclaimed, struggling to comprehend what she w as seeing.

Vassago laughed cruelly. “You are being called home, my dear.”

His laughter cut short as Rafferty skidded to a halt, dropping down beside Helena. He had crossed the space from the door faster than any conscious thought that he was doing so.

“Helena! I’m here!”