And then Jack had to show up and give us the shitty news. Which means it’s the kind of party with an edge to it, like someone might get thrown out of a window at any moment. If you’d asked me an hour ago, my money would have been on our captain, who was supposed to be helping me in the kitchen to give Cookie the night off. Despite Finch having twice as many appendages as the rest of us, it turns out he’s truly awful at cooking. In the end, he wound up burning a few too many things and waved a hand around with an apologetic, if vague, look around at all the smoke.
“I’m not sure this is the help you’d hoped for,” he said. “Perhaps I’ll send for reinforcements.”
At which point he wandered off and hasn’t come back since. Leaving me with an ever-changing group of assistants who are steadily growing drunker by the hour. All we were supposed to be doing was baking a cake and putting together some snacks, but even that is turning out to be a monumental effort.
It’s hard enough as it is, without me being one-handed since I can’t exactly roll my sleeves up and demonstrate whatI need them to do. Not now that my damn hand has entirely disappeared.
“Dammit, Dagger, there’s a spoon there for a reason.”
“You have to be gentle with the stove, not smother it.”
Fuck, I sound like the un-fun grandpa. That’s not too unusual, but it makes me miss Reva. She likes to tease me about my reading glasses, about the way I word things, and how I’m always looking after people.
She teases me about everything. Or at least, she did before parts of my body started disappearing and I started avoiding her.
You could say I’m not handling the changes to my body very well.
There’s a shout from somewhere outside, and Dagger leans out of the kitchen window far enough to make my stomach drop.
“Looks like Blade and Silvertooth have dug into storage. I reckon they’ve got either the oats barrel or the one with rum in it. I guess we’ll see if we’re eating well tonight or if we’re having a party.”
“They went back to the ship?” I ask, trying and failing to hide the horror in my voice.
“Yep.”
The two bozos stumble into the kitchen and start hammering at the top. Pinching the upper part of my nose, I take a deep breath so that I don’t snap. I’m dangerously close to losing my temper at the best of times at the moment, and being around these idiots isn’t helping.
“We’re supposed to be avoiding the ship,” I speak slowly, just in case that helps them to sink in.
“We were low on oats, though. Low on rum, too.”
“And eggs.”
“Soap too.”
“Do you think Cookie’ll make those little cakey things that melt on your tongue?”
“Cookie’s not making anything.”
“He’s making eyes at Bones. Not sure either of them will be sticking around the party long enough to enjoy it.”
“So, canwemake those little cakey things that melt on your tongue?”
I stifle a grunt of frustration before opening the door wider to try to let out some of the smoke smell when something launches itself. Wings flap around my face as sharp claws narrowly avoid my eyes.
“What the blazes?”
Has everyone lost their ever-loving minds today or something?
Strangely enough, my spines don’t immediately erupt from my back, which means I know exactly who this is.
A seriously annoying raven. And if he wasn’t closer than a brother, I’d be sorely tempted to wring his damn neck.
“What are you doing?” I bat Jack’s wings away from my face with my good arm. “Stop that.”
But he keeps going, flapping his wings right into my face so I have to do an awkward pirouette to avoid him.
“Oi oi, Tor’s showing off his dance moves.”
