I couldn’t read her mood at all. “I never said I was good at this,” I muttered. Getting up, I pulled a mug from the cupboard, but when I dropped a tea bag into it, her eyes narrowed.

“Go sit and drink your foul coffee,” she said, her voice harsh. “I’ll make my own tea.”

Jenks snickered, and after I moved the plate with the honey and fudge to the table, I sat with my cold gourmet coffee. It had lost much of its appeal. Ceri’s silent disapproval was obvious, but what was I supposed to do? I didn’t like the idea that Ivy had left to move in with Skimmer without telling me, but it was the best explanation I had right now.

Ceri brought the ceramic teapot out from under the counter. Throwing my tea bag away, she measured out two spoonfuls of loose tea. Jenks flitted to his honey and wrestled with the top until I opened it for him. Some birthday this was turning out to be.

“Jenks?” I warned, my eyes going to Rex. The orange cat was sitting in the threshold of the kitchen, watching me with those creepy kitten eyes. I’d seen Jenks on honey; it got him drunker faster than a frat boy avoiding finals, and Rex liked little winged things too much for my comfort.

“What!” he said belligerently. “You bought it for me.”

“Yes, but I was hoping you’d be sober this afternoon for our run.”

Snorting, Jenks settled himself before the jar brimming with the sticky amber. “Like I’ve ever been drunk for longer than five minutes?” Clearly eager, he pulled what looked like a set of chopsticks from his back pocket. Manipulating them expertly, he spindled a wad of the honey into his mouth. His wings drooped and stilled when he swallowed, and a giggle slipped from him. “Crap, this is good stuff,” he said around a gooey mouthful.

Five minutes. That was about right, but I was worried about Rex.

Ceri stood at the sink and warmed the teapot with hot tap water. I thought it a useless step that only served to make more dirty dishes, but Ceri was the expert when it came to tea. Her gaze went to Jenks, now holding the sticks high over his uptilted head and letting the honey dribble into him. It was going exactly where he wanted, even if he was starting to cant to one side.

“Can you take that into the overhead rack?” I said, worried.

Stiffening, Jenks gave me a wide-eyed, unfocused look. “I can fly, woman. I can fly better honey-drunk than you can fly stone sober.” To prove his point, he lifted into the air, Making a whoop of exclamation, he lost altitude. Ceri’s hand was under him in a flash, and he started giggling. “Listen, listen!” he coaxed while he slumped on her hand, then belched the first two lines to “You Are My Sunshine.”