“You’d have made a good waitress,” I said before I thought.
“Barback.”
“What?”
“I used to barback,” she said, coming over.“Never did any waitressing.Too bad; it would have paid better.”
I blinked at her as she set down the tray, which she seemed to find amusing.
“What?Did you think I came from one of the great old families?Brought up in some mansion before swanning into the Pythian Court to claim my rightful place?”
“I...don’t know.There have been...rumors...”I didn’t go any further, because a lot of them were crazy.Like her father was a dark mage and her mother was a goddess-crazy.
Yet they somehow had a daughter who had to barback for a living?
“You know how the press is,” she said, and didn’t explain.
“So, are you going to tell them?”Sophie demanded, staying on topic.And sounding belligerent, because even a Pythia didn’t intimidate her.
“Tell who what?”
“You heard us just now.I know you did!And the Pythia is—well, everybody knows, you’re buddy-buddy with the Circle—”
“Not this Pythia,” she said mildly.
“Sure, but if you—” Sophie cut off abruptly, probably because Jen had just grabbed her arm, hard enough to dent the skin.“Ow!What are you—”
She cut off again as her eyes went to the still-laden platter, which Jen was also staring at with a fixed intensity I didn’t understand.
Until I did.
“What is that?”I asked, looking at the central offering of what appeared to be an entire dinner.
“I heard that, after a transformation, Weres like to eat,” the Pythia said.“That it helps them recover.So I ordered you a little something.”
Yeah, but what was the question.
“The kitchen is...out of order...,” she added wryly, “so I sent a guy down to room service.Their stuff isn’t exactly gourmet, but it’s usually edible.Usually.”
“Whatisthat?”Jen screeched, loud enough to make me jump.
She had unfrozen and stood up abruptly.And then backed up a few steps, as if looking for room to maneuver, despite there being no threats in sight.Just a...dancing chicken?
Because that was what was in the middle of the platter, surrounded by some nice roasted vegetables and a puddle of brown sauce.There was also a bread basket, a small tureen of soup, and a large salad, but it was the chicken shaking its roasted booty that really drew the eye.It had sidled up to the tureen and appeared to be twerking, which was about the time my brain shut down.
But not Jen’s.
“You!”She pointed a shaking finger at the Pythia.“You—”
It seemed to be all she could say.
“Me,” the Pythia agreed calmly.“Breast or wing?”
“You’re anecro!”
“What?”Sophie asked, still staring at the chicken, which was now doing something that might have been vogueing, only it was hard to tell.But it kept striking dramatic poses all around the tureen, where the shiny side provided a mirror, and then moonwalking back toward—
“Stop it!”Jen said, her eyes flashing.“Are you mocking me?”
