“You would know,” Quin sang back.
Glyma laughed throatily before ringing off. “Go home, Quin. You work too much.”
“Have a good night. See you Saturday,” Quin said, ignoring the jab.
“See you Saturday.”
Since Waryn was more than elated to join their little viewing party, he and Quin teleported to Purgatory Station Saturday afternoon, landing in the designated teleportation corner. Teleporting anywhere else in the station was strictly forbidden to ensure no one missed a platform and fell in front of a train. Or teleported into the body of someone else by accident, killing them both instantly.
They waited on Platform L for Glyma’s train to arrive, and Quin gawked at all the humans. She was familiar with the species, of course, and she’d even been in the human dimension a time or two with her mother for work. But in recent years, she’d had less contact with the blunt-toothed creatures.
She tried not to stare and failed, but to her credit, she wasn’t the only one. Humans and Hellians alike were staring at each other, studying the differences and, in some cases, the similarities. They didn’t have horns or claws or sharp teeth. Their skin looked thin and easily torn.
Honestly, they looked like evolution had failed them in terms of survival, yet they’d still become the dominant species of theirworld. She didn’t understand how, but maybe they had secret abilities they kept hidden except under threat of death. She would have to look it up.
“She is pretty, isn’t she,” Waryn said, and Quin tore her gaze away from a human man picking his nose.
“Sorry, what?”
Waryn nodded across the platform to where Glyma was waving through the window of the slowing train. “She’s pretty, Quin.”
“Oh, shut it,” Quin grumbled.
“I’m just saying—”
“Keep it to yourself.”
“You like her,” he whispered near her horn. “It’s okay to like her.”
And Quin did like her, didn’t she? She liked her sundresses and her flipflops, her wavy, purple hair and her glittery purses. She liked her laughter and her tears and her unwavering dedication. Quin just liked her so very much.
“Would it make a difference?” she asked cynically, and Waryn rolled his eyes.
“So dour. It could make a difference if you pulled your head out of your—” He wheezed when Quin jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow, and he glared down at her in betrayal. She jutted her chin and wordlessly dared him to continue. Unfortunately, he was never someone she could intimidate, so he sneered smugly and said, “Cooch.”
Her jaw dropped, and she smacked him again, between his legs this time. He tried to dodge, but she managed to hit the edge of his sac. He yelped likekrimpiand leaned against the wall for support.
“My giblets.”
“Oh my,” Glyma said, distracting Quin from extracting more revenge. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Spousal abuse,” Waryn whined.
“His castration,” Quin snarled.
“You see? She’s so mean to me.”
Glyma pressed her lips together to smother a smile before she gave in and laughed. “You probably deserved it. What did you say to her?”
“Nothing,” Quin seethed. “He said nothing.”
Straightening his suit jacket, he sniffed haughtily and mumbled, “I’d smack you in the boob, but they’re so small I couldn’t find them if I tried.”
And yeah, Quin was a bit sensitive on that front, and he knew it! “Get anywhere near my boobs, and I will rip off your balls and feed them to you.”
“As if you could reach them. You’re too short,” he slapped back.
“Trust me, I’d find a way!”
