Page 51 of Baking and Angels

Cindy mouthed the word “oh,” apparently already knowing most of that story, then followed their gaze. “Does that mean…it’s here?”

“Not necessarily,” Rafferty said. “They could be keeping aneye on…”

More people walked by so Helena slid her hand down from Cindy’s shoulder to take her friend’s hand. “I’ll tell you later. Just trust me. We’re safe. From itat least.”

To Rafferty’s surprise, Cindy accepted that with acurt nod.

It was only then that he realized his delay had allowed the officials to start breaking down his chosen station.

“Wait, wait. I’m still working here,” he said, bursting his way past the two women to slap his hand on the table. It didn’t stop the official who had already disconnected the toaster oven and coiled the cord beside it, fastening a twisty tie to keep ittogether.

“Go claim one of the other tables, I’m not setting this back up,” he growled, and continued with hisbreakdown.

Rafferty thought about fighting it, but the ire wafting off this official held his tongue. He was right, there were other stations that no one had touched yet and what difference did it really make? With the agents here, the last thing he wanted was to cause a commotion and attractattention.

“What happened?” Helena asked as he shifted to hisnew table.

“They broke down my setup already,” he explained, wiping his hands down his slightly floured apron to disperse his own irritation.

Helena’s eyebrows shot up. “What? That’s bullshit. What kind of way is that to run an event like this? I mean, this whole thing is a mess.”

“It’s fine. They are all supposed to be the same. I need to decide what to do next and not worry about it,” he said, fixing his sleeve, which had unrolled itself, while letting his gaze wash over the ingredients table. An itch at the corner of his eye made him look toward Helena, who was smirking at him.

“What?”he asked.

“You look so damn sexy right now, you know that?” she said, her smirk evolving into a grin. She brushed a bit at his upper lip, removing some of the flour that had gotten stuck to his bristles. He was actually growing facial hair. “I’m going to need to show you howto shave.”

“You don’t know how to shave? How old are you?” Cindy asked, while he brushed his own face, realizing she was right, he was growing a beard.

“I know how to shave,” he countered, getting annoyed. This was a distraction, and he neededto focus.

“Cake,” he said, confidently. “There isn’t really much left that can be made with the remaining ingredients.” Only to stop as he saw the other contestant who wasn’t Eleanor claim the last six eggs fromthe tray.

“Oh, come on,” Helena said, catching it at the same time he did. “That’s hardly fair!”

“It’s a competition,” Cindy argued. “It’s part of the challenge.”

“Thank you, little Ms. Devil’s Advocate,” his girlfriend and defender groused.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I can make it without eggs.” And went over to claim his other ingredients.

He wasn’t surprised that when he returned, he found Agent Archon and Agent Sophia waiting for him athis table.

“Mr. Lares,” Agent Archon said, her eyebrows conveying a healthy amount of suspicion. “Imagine meetingyou here.”

“Hi, Mr. Lares,” Agent Sophia said with that gently sympathetic smile. “Are you doing any better?”

“Uh, yes, madame,” he said without thinking, then realized what he had said, then wondered if it would make him more suspicious or less. He had never called someone madame… at least not in this century. Or on thiscontinent.

Agent Archon’s eyes narrowed at him, but he held his nerve, and his chin steady, his eyes looking at her without actually meeting her gaze. “Do you still believe you’re a demon?”she asked.

Now he couldn’t help but meet that piercing gaze.

It seemed to be enough of an answer for her.

“Do you mind if I ask what you are doing here instead of staying in the hotel where we told you to stay?” Agent Archon asked next.

“Competing in a cooking contest,” he answered. It was the truthafter all.

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