Page 108 of Baking and Angels

And even if she was, she would find herway back.

Rafferty couldn’t tell if that thought was his or if it came from a different source, but it flooded himwith calm.

A calm Eleanor did not share, her smirk becoming more derisive, almost a sneer.

“What? You think she’s an angel? Thenyouare deluding yourself. She tried to tell me the same thing; that she just wants tohelp me.”

So much had happened in the two weeks he had been gone. “She does,” Raffertyinsisted.

Eleanor’s jaw shifted. “At least Vassago is being honest about his intentions.”

“And he’ll drag you to hell if you go through with this,” Rafferty said. “Believe me, please.”

In response, just as a helper came by to drop off a package of basic ingredients, Eleanor seized the bowl of sugar from the box they carried for Rafferty’s station and promptly dumped it on the ground. The helper gasped and a camera guy beelined over to record. Eleanor didn’t acknowledge any of them, just simply stared down her rival, cruelty in her giggle.

“Or maybe I’m playing them both off of each other. One double-dealer to cancel the other out.” She then glanced at the camera, a quick, almost-too-late calculation washing over her face. She was probably wondering if anything she had just said had been recorded and if she was in trouble. She took another step back, choosing retreat as the better part of not going to jail.

“Good luck today,” she said, finally backing away now that more attention was on them. “Thanks for the head game.”

Rafferty sighed, then regarded the pile of wasted sugar on the floor. He fetched the bowl she had dumped it from and angled down to try to scoop up what he could that hadn’t touched the ground. Such a waste in the king’s kitchen would have been unthinkable.

“Oh no, sir, you don’t have to do that,” the helper insisted, waving their hands at the bowl as if to shoo it away like it was a fly. “We’ll get this cleaned up and get you new sugar.”

“That’s not necessary.” But her flapping hands kept insisting, and another helper approached with a broom and dustpan, already contaminating what was left of the sugar with it before he could object again.

So, he let them, stepping back and giving himself a chance to think. It was only than that her parting words hit him.“Or maybe I’m playing them both off of each other. One double-dealer to cancel the other out.”

His heartbeat sped up as the implications rattled him.No, no, no. Helena made a deal?he thought. And it wasn’t really a question, it was a certainty. If she thought she could save someone by making a deal with them, putting her own freedom and soul on the line, she would do it.

Because she’s trying to provesomething.

Trying to prove that she’snot evil.

A pair of words floated up in his mind, ones he would never use, would have never known to use. Ones given to him from… somewhere else.

Survivor’s guilt.

“Is there anything else you need, sir?” a third helper asked, interrupting histhoughts.

“Yes, I have a few special ingredients I want to use, and if I can get a moment to talk to Helena Rhodes, I would appreciate it,” he answered politely, forcing himself to stay calm. Panic would do the opposite of what he wanted right then.

The helper looked like they had swallowed a bug but nodded. “Of course, do you want to report this to our HR? I can connect you up to our productionmanager…”

“No, that is not necessary. It’s just sugar. Eleanor and I have… history. I just want to speak to Helena, if I could,” he insisted, wishing, not for the first time, that he still had a demonic aura to persuade this person to just do what he wanted already.

“I’ll see what I can do, but she is very busy,” the helper said, lifting a microphone bit on a cord attached to both an earpiece and a walkie-talkie attached to their hip. They turned away to talk softly into it.

He supposed it was the most he could hope for at that moment without powers to directly snap to her location. Though he was tempted to go search for her himself.

The helper turned back after a moment. “Ms. Rhodes said to stay put, that she will come to speak with you very soon.” They paused a moment, listening to their earpiece. “She also says to say, thank you for coming and representing Scarlet Promotions. It means the world to us… I mean her. And good luck winning the competition.”

“So she will come talk to me?” he pressed, notliking it.

Again, another pause as they listened. “Yes. She promises. She’ll be over with you soon. Just wait here and please enjoy the competition. She knows you can do it,” they recited.

“Okay, thank you.” His heart sank, even as it didn’t slow its pace. His hands were itchy, but given no other place to put the energy, he went back over to Eleanor’s station.

Before she could flinch away, he grabbed her upper arm, holding her in place. “What deal?” he demanded, the intensity in his voice too urgent to give much hush tohis voice.

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