I made it home just in time to dodge Jack, who was fleeing the house and laughing. Not good. Really not good- the pan that was being flung at him pegged me in the face.
“God damn it!” I hid behind the door, a hand on my face, carefully checking to make sure my nose wasn’t broken. “Belle, what the hell?”
It wasn’t hard to figure out who had thrown it, because it wasn’t the first time I’d been the victim of a flying pan.
“How many times do I have to tell you the pans are for cooking? Throw a damn knife at him for all I care, but I’m sick of going out to buy more pans!”
I peeked around the door as I heard Devin’s voice- and quickly ducked back when another pan went flying. Without me in the way, it hit its target, and Jack hit the ground with a groan. I’d been lucky that the pan she hit me with was steel. He’d gotten hit by the cast-iron skillet, and that one hurt.
“What the hell is going on?” I shouted past the door.
Devin raced around the door to hide next to me, his chest heaving. “Sorry, Eli. I tried to stop them before you got back,” he said, a flash of guilt in his eyes as he glanced at me.
“What did he do this time?” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Devin would have told me, but he didn’t have to. Belle, Jack’s Guardian, came out of the house like a tornado, her red-brown eyes hot. “Jack, I swear to god I’m going to cut your dick off the next time you bring one of those whores home!” she raged, another pan held ready in her hand. She looked wild with her deep auburn hair tangled around her face, her shirt hanging off one shoulder; I must have missed the bulk of the fight.
“Look, it wasn’t my fault-”
Belle’s scream was wordless, and she would have thrown pan if I didn’t dart forward and grab her wrist. “Hey, bastard, le- oh, Eli!” Her eyes went wide, and she dropped the pan.
“What is going on?” I hissed the question through my teeth, irritated. I’d been looking forward to coming back to a bowl of ice cream waiting for me, not a bunch of idiots screaming like banshees.
Belle scrunched her face up. “That bastard let another of those rich heiress brats in here. He was showing her around when I caught them- god only knows what kind of tactical secrets he gives away every time he brings one of them around. I can’t believe he does this just for the sake of good rum-”
“Rum?” Jack and I perked up at the same time, and Belle breathed a heavy sigh.
“I give up!” She threw her hands up, turning her back on us and storming to the porch. Belle turned to us at the last second, glaring. “Don’t come crying to me when one of those floozies cuts your throat one night!”
Belle’s angry shouting turned into a surprised gasp as she was shoved out of the doorway. Even I winced as she hit the porch; she’d be lucky if she hadn’t bitten her tongue, and the Guardians didn’t heal as well as we did.
“Will you all just shut up already?!”
I hid a smile; you could always count on Farah to stop the fight when it came to Belle and Jack- even if it meant knocking them both unconscious to do it. There wasn’t any love lost there. “Afternoon, Farah!” I called, waving to here.
She glanced over, smiling at me; not particularly warm, but then, Farah wasn’t really a warm person. It was why she worked so well as Ren’s Guardian. She offset his warm, playful personality well, and covered his ass when he was too busy teasing to fight. “Hey, Eli. Devin.” Her voice was frosty when she said his name; like all the others, she didn’t care for Devin at all.
“Hey, bitch-” Belle started to get up, but found herself caught between the porch and Farah’s boot, the white haired Guardian glaring down at her.
It was hard to get a good glare when you only had one eye; somehow Farah managed. “Did I give you permission to get up?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Belle glared up at her silently.
“Hey now, let’s all get along,” Ren purred from behind Farah, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on top of her head.
She whirled, forgetting her anger at Belle in the heat of her hatred; her fist smashed into Ren’s hand, the boy too fast for her to land a hit on. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed.
“Aw, don’t be that way,” Ren whined, further distracting her as Belle staggered to her feet. I had to applaud him on his bravery; most people wouldn’t stand up to Farah like that.
“Hey, where are Gale and Narissa?” I asked, realizing who was missing from our show on the front yard.
Ren looked away from Farah, shrugging. Jack, who was sitting on the lawn with his head in his hands and the cast iron skillet in his lap, looked up. “They’re in the kitchen making you a bowl of ice cream,” he explained. One eye was closed- he must’ve already had a headache from the blow.
“Really?” I asked excitedly, the rest of the argument immediately forgotten. “Move, I need my fix!”
Their laughter followed me as I raced into the house, and I was understandably proud of myself; act like the lovable kid with a sweet tooth and they all give in. It was a trick I had learned from Narissa. Although, I really was excited about that ice cream, and I skidded on the hardwood floors as I dashed to the kitchen.
“Ah, there he is, the man of the hour!” Narissa cheered as I used the kitchen island as my brake. The impact knocked a few bottles over, and brought Gale’s sightless eyes to me.
His smile was a little forced; he was never pleased when they all acted like I was the hero, when they never let me fight. “Took you long enough.”
“Sorry. Belle, ah, caught me on my way in.”
Narissa winced, understanding, and stepped around the counter. I focused on her eyes as she gently probed my face with her fingers. When she concentrated, she always closed her right eye, masking the pretty blue. Not that there was anything wrong with the deep green of her left eye, but I was always a sucker for blue eyes. “You feel fine. You probably won’t even bruise,” she said, before moving back to her side of the counter.
“Yeah, I figured as much. That poor pan though, I don’t think we’ll be able to salvage it,” I sighed, remembered the impression my face had made in the metal. Eli seven, kitchenware zero.
Narissa giggled as she tipped the bottle of chocolate syrup upside down over my bowl- I’m pretty sure she used half the bottle before she put it down. Considering the bowl she was using was one of the giant serving bowls we used with dinner, it wasn’t even excessive. Well, perhaps the bowl itself was just a little extravagant....but I dismissed the thought as I leaned against the counter, watching her finish putting her creation together.
“Voila! One everything but the kitchen sink sundae for our top dog,” Narissa proclaimed, pushing the bowl across the counter to me.
I looked down at it before raising an eyebrow. “Since when does one person use eight spoons?”
“Since you were sharing with all the rest of us. Now come on, we need to gather up the rest of the animals before they tear each other to pieces,” Narissa said, grabbing the butcher knife out of the block by the stove.
Gale was smiling as he shook his head, but he followed her out the door, and I could hear his voice under Narissa’s as she threatened their limbs if they didn’t come inside and act properly for once. They came inside a few moments later, most of them sheepish with their gazes on the floor. Devin was carrying the pan that had my face imprinted in it, a smirk turning up his lips as he handed it to me.
I scowled at him, resisting the urge to smack him with it, chucking it into the trash can that waited by the wall for just such occasions; it clanged against yesterday’s broken pan.
“Alright. Can we all play nice long enough to share Eli’s ice cream?” Narissa asked, taking one of the spoons and holding it out over the bowl.
It was tradition. We each took up or spoons, crossing them over the bowl. Some people used wine glasses for their celebrations; we tapped our spoons together, and it always made us laugh, burning away the tension of whatever had happened that day before we tried to see who could go into a sugar coma first.
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