The first was a compact man with a shaved head and tattooed forearms. He had a shallow pan tilted at a precise angle over an open flame. He was reducing wine, swirling it in rhythmic rotations.
The second woman stood over a wooden board, chopping herbs. She was working through a mountain of them—shiso, green onion, basil, and thyme.
The third was barely older than twenty and had flour dusting his forearms. A full tray of dumpling wrappers rested in front of him. Perfectly pinched and pleated, they appeared more like origami than hors d'oeuvres.
I stood in the doorway a minute.
Alright. This party is definitely happening tonight.
Chef Bunzo had the range going. Four burners lit with blue flames dancing beneath heavy pots. Steam rose toward the vaulted ceiling.
"Good morning, Nyomi." Chef Bunzo looked up from his station. He had his sleeves rolled past his forearms. A wooden spoon was in one hand and a small ceramic dish of green saucewas in the other. “I brought my top people in today. That’s why we have new faces.”
“Okay.” I said, as I entered.
“Are you ready for the big day?”
“I am. I think we’re going to give the Claws a good time.”
“So good that the Fangs will want a party too.”
I blinked. “No. . .”
He chuckled.
“They better not.”
He shrugged and set the dish with the green sauce by the stove. “By the way, Reo gave me a note an hour ago.”
“Oh really?”
He pointed to the other side of the kitchen. “It’s on the counter over there. I thought you should read it for yourself.”
I walked over and didn’t even have to pick it up to see the message.
Heart,
Macaroni and cheese.
Please and thank you.
If you oblige, I will cut out my soul and hand it to you.
Your loyal and devoted Roar.
“Hmmm.” I shook my head. “I wonder if Reo wants some cheese.”
Chef Bunzo stirred the sauce. “It will forever be a mystery.”
I chuckled. “Alright. Let’s make sure we take care of the Roar. He’s offering his soul and I would love to hold another soul.”
“One can never have too many souls in this life.” Chef Bunzo signaled to one of his assistants I hadn’t seen. She had a short red bob and green glasses. “Aya, help the Tiger. Get what she needs. Follow any instruction given.”
“Yes, chef.” Aya rushed over.
“Let’s see.” I thought of my grandmother’s recipe and how I had played with it over time. Additionally, I couldn’t give himwhat I’d made for Kenji because the Dragon was petty and possessive.
Aya pulled out a small notepad and pen.
