The thing bubbles and finally melts, revealing some cake thing covered in green and red goo and smelling like toffee apple.
“I am not eating that,” Holly says faintly.
All at once, they all start exploding with foam. Everyone gets loud, but Fox is doubled over, laughing so hard he’s crying, Cordelia with him. The two are having a grand time while everyone else panics.
Katsu has his head cocked to the side, turning to watch the room with an amused smile.
I just know Pops and Grigori were involved in this. It’s probably candy and baking soda and food dye, but it looks freaky.
“Oh, my God, it’s so ugly,” an omega exclaims harshly.
I circle the concoction warily and finally lean in and poke it again. Other than a perfectly normal cake jiggle, it does nothing.
“So, we’re supposed to eat this weird transmuting cake and hope they haven’t decided we aren’t useful anymore?” Clint mutters to me. “Tough luck, mate, you've got yourself a Cordie. You know what? Day off work. I’m game.”
“Clint, wait!” Holly shouts, but he picks it up and bites into it.
We all watch as he chews, slowly, thoughtfully, and finally sighs like he’s extremely disappointed.
“It’s a sponge. Too dry. Should have thrown her back, mate.”
He lies down on the pillows, puts his Akubra hat on his face, and goes to sleep, while Holly leans against him and scrolls through her phone.
“Who would have messed up the cakes?” I ask quietly. “Everyone who would have made them wouldn’t have made a mistake like this.”
I reach out and find a little card on the table. “Made for you, with love from the dreamers of Class 1A.”
“Awww,” Cordie says. She gets up from where she’s sitting and goes over to Clint and kicks him in the thigh.
“OW! What the devil was that for?”
She thrusts the card in his face, and his expression turns contrite.
“Ah, damn it. He rolls up his sleeves and takes the cake in his hand, glances at Holly. “I got this, Hols, you just sit there and look pretty.”
She rolls her eyes, but he eats it, forcing it down bit by dry bit. The others in the room do the same. I look at our cake and then reach out and take a bite. God, it is dry. Like it sucks the moisture out of your mouth and leaves you dehydrated.
“Good?” Cordie asks with a small smirk.
I give her a thumbs up because I cannot speak.
Ten minutes after I finish the cake, people come in with gold-painted domes and set them down. I glance at Katsu.
“You’re up.”
He reaches forward and lifts the dome while I grab Floyd. “Tell the kids the cakes were wonderful; there’s not a crumb left on any plate.”
Floyd’s eyes open wide, and he turns, scanning, and finally looks at me and dips his chin, his lower lip wobbling.
“Thank you, Seb. You are a good and decent alpha.”
“It was Cordie.”
She looks up, and I’m caught by how beautiful she is, but especially when she’s having fun and relaxed.
“Thank you, Cordelia,” Floyd says in a husky voice. “It will mean so much to them.”
She grins, and he leaves in a rush, his lower lip wobbling again.
