Page 35 of Baking and Angels

“I…”

“One thing is terribly clear that needs no further explanation,” Scarlet said, already halfway through her sandwich. “You are a most talented cook. This, the dinner party, and what was served at the Winter Rose Ball. Now that you have your second chance, are you going to do something with this gift? Would you like to see what my connections can find you? I know several high-end restaurants that would appreciate you.”

“I…” Rafferty trailed off again, staring down at his plate. He had only one idea that excited him. “There is this underground… thing.”

“Underground?” Scarlet asked, wrinklingher nose.

“Does that have something to do with that business card I found?” Helena added.

“Eleanor,” Rafferty said, picturing the chef in her kitchen scrubs and her warrior’s smile. A different kind of hunger slid through him. “She is a chef who is trying to create a sort of…” He struggled for a moment, then related the idea to the only analogy he knew of. “Cooking show, but one she shows online. She does thesefantasticcakes,” he added, his voice reflecting the awe he felt at the memory of her masterpiece. “She told me about this… competition. I don’t know much, but it sounds… fun.”

He felt damn near predatory thinking about it. A battle of cooks. Not for the attention of a king, but then everyone in these times thought themselves kings and queens.

“And this is a thing?” Scarlet asked, looking to Helena for confirmation.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but maybe we could check it out. Here. Let me go get my computer. I’ll be right back.” Standing up eagerly, she left without another word.

Rafferty and Scarlet sat there awkwardly now that Helena had leftthe room.

“Have you got your new identifications yet?” Scarlet askedpolitely.

“He said he’d letus know.”

He thought they would lapse back into silence, but instead, she scooted her seat a little closer, leaning in to pitch her voice down. “You must excuse me, Mr. Lares.” She hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t believe she was doing this. “Your existence as a demon. Tell meabout it.”

He pulled back as much as she leaned forward. “You want me to tell you about what it is likein Hell?”

“I want to know how much my poor Yosef is suffering right now,” she said softly andfragilely.

And here it is,he thought to himself, realizing what she was really asking. None of her help was out of any goodness in her heart. “You want to know how to bring Yosef back,” he said in a low voice, his eyes half-lidded.

“I… want to know if it is possible, yes,” she admitted, with equally fragile hope inher eyes.

“Up until recently I would have said no, not at all possible,” he said dryly. “But I know you would say Iam lying.”

“Because here you sit,”she said.

“Because here I sit. And I have no idea how or why.”

Scarlet’s eyes narrowed, her shoulders squaring. “But you do have some theories.” It was a statement, not a question. She could see that he did. He could tell she was a formidabledealmaker.

He sighed and looked away. He supposed he was in her debt. While not bound by any outside forces, what this woman giveth, she could taketh away. And Helena would pay that price. But he also knew this woman wasn’t going to like what he had to say, so it was risky either way.

Fuck it.

“If he were on the brink of dying, something could be done. You could trade your life for his. It would take that much to pay the price of the imbalance to stopa death.”

“But he’s already dead,” she said, her voicecracking.

“Yes.”

“And the price would be…”

“It’s been attempted, as far as I know, but never succeeded. Not in the wayyou wish.”

She shook her head. “That makes no sense. Here you sit.” Her hand gestured frantically at him.

“Yes, here I sit. I…” Tension built at the back of his neck. He was so loathed to admit this. “I just don’tknow why.”

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