Page 139 of Gratification in Gluttony

“We can’t be late, or we’ll miss the colors,” Willow said.

“Oliver can sit in my lap,” Liel said.

“I don’t know why I trusted any of you to get this job done right,” Tad said.

“Hey,” Toni barked, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “You wanted a car, and Toni got a car.”

“We wanted a van!” Oliver retorted.

“You did your best,” Jude said with a supportive pat to Toni’s arm.

With a wordless growl, Toni pointed at the Town Car. “We can all fit. It’ll be a little snug, but we’ll fit.”

“How?” Quin demanded.

“Rusty can ride in the trunk,” Toni said, and the Pyclon bristled.

“Why me?”

“You’re small,” Toni said.

“Tad’s smaller!” Rusty snarled.

“Well, that’s not very chivalrous now, is it?” Toni bit back.

“I wanna ride in the trunk. I like small, dark spaces,” Tad said with an eerie smile. She was dressed head-to-toe in black, with a black fabric hat on, the material rolled thickly on her forehead.

“Are you wearing a baklava?” Toni asked, and both Oliver and Jude snorted with laughter. “What?”

“It’s actually called a balaclava,” Oliver corrected.

Toni blew a raspberry. “Baklava. Balaclava. Whatever! It’s practically the same thing.”

“Except that baklava is a Mediterranean dessert, and a balaclava is a mask criminals use when doing criminal activity,” Jude explained, with a significant look in Tad’s direction.

“Honestly, I don’t hear the difference.” Turning to Tad, Toni asked again, “Are you wearing the non-dessert kind of baklava?”

“Yes,” she said as she shouldered her black duffel bag—the one she’d refused to explain when Toni asked about it earlier. “The real question here is why none of you are wearing balaclavas.”

Everyone stared at her blankly for a moment, before Toni clapped his hands and encouraged everyone toward the car. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

Toni took the driver’s seat, with Jude at his side. Zef took the passenger seat and hugged their legs to their chest so Rustycould curl up on the floor between the bench seat and the glove box.

“This is fucking humiliating,” he grumbled as he tucked his tail between his legs so Zef could close the door.

“You know,” Quin whispered as she climbed into the back, “I could just teleport us, babe.”

“Shh.” Glyma grasped Quin’s hips and plopped the Daemon down on her lap. “This is more fun. Don’t ruin it.”

The rest of the group piled on top of each other in the back seat with much grunting and apologies. Tad was already in the trunk, and Toni heard her clanking around, moving what sounded like tools and heavy equipment. Honestly, he didn’t want to know.

Thankfully, the drive to Gem’s wasn’t too long, and when they parked on the street in front of his building, everyone heaved a sigh of relief. They crawled out of the car, complaining about the close-quarters, and Toni did his best to ignore them. He did so much, and where was his thanks?

As everyone trickled into the building, Tad waddled over, dropping her duffel bag with a heavy thud at Toni’s feet.

“Okay,” she said as she pulled her balaclava over her face until only her bulbous eyes could be seen. “How’re we doing this? Smoke bomb through the window? Or is Quin gonna teleport inside and chloroform his ass before he knows what hit him?”

“What?” Toni said.

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