Page 65 of Murder Mittens

Twelve

I could help you lick that off.

Beneath the duct tape was glitter, but it wasn’t just glitter. It was glitter made of sugar, making certain my family’s terrible idea of a joke wouldn’t damage the environment. Underneath the glitter, someone had gotten the idea to use chains linked together with padlocks, zip ties, and silicon, creating an iron barricade separating me from my new car. To add to the fun, the keys were trapped in balls of cured silicon, which had been left in several plastic baggies in the layer of glitter, which covered the prized parking spot and would attract every ant in the state.

I stopped counting after twenty padlocks. A heavy cloth cover protected my car from the chains, and judging from the wheels, which I could finally spot, I owned a car that lacked hub cabs, as it had mags instead.

Sexy, sexy mags.

I spent a solid thirty minutes stroking the wheels on my new car, wondering what sort of pretty vehicle waited underneath the cover protecting it from my brothers and their horrible sense of humor.

Sebastian chuckled from somewhere behind me. “Have you been purring the entire time, or do those tires make you that happy?”

“They’re mags, Sebastian.”

“They’re nice mags, too.” Crouching beside me, he pointed at the brakes, which were a vibrant cherry red. “It wouldn’t surprise me if your car is that color. Some manufacturers make kits so their detailing matches from fender to fender, including the visible brakes. The shape tells me they went all in. Are you aware you’re covered in glitter?”

“It’s not just glitter. It’s sugar that has been turned into glitter. I got a bunch on my face, and I got a taste, and well, it’s sugar.”

“I could help you lick that off,” the lion rumbled.

I held up the ball of silicon. “I have at least ten more of these to get through, but I have no problems with attempting to embarrass my family. You can make sure I’m clean after I free my new car from its prison. I’ll show you the shower, which is actually pretty nice because most of the litters want to shower together when they’re younger. My family deserves to be embarrassed after subjecting me to a bunch of silicon balls holding the keys to the padlocks hostage.”

Chuckling, Sebastian headed to the porch, and I watched him with interest. When he got to the front door, he regarded my twin brothers and held out his hand. “Keys, please. My little lynx is resorting to stroking the tires because she can’t get to the rest of it.”

To my utter astonishment, my brothers handed over a collection of keys, which my lion brought to me. “That’s the funny thing about a good prank, Harri. When it stops being fun and becomes frustrating, the considerate offer a somewhat easy out. You’ll have to figure out which key goes to what, but now you can progress.”

Huh. My lion could work miracles. “How did you even know to do that?”

“These padlocks always come with two keys, and there’s only one in that ball, which told me the second key was somewhere safe, in case you couldn’t get to that one.”

“You are such a smart lion. I knew there was a reason outside of your roars to keep you around.” I went to work matching keys with locks, and Sebastian helped me get through the zip ties and silicon with some help from his pocketknife. “I wasn’t that frustrated. I was just taking a break, and I could see the tire, so I started petting it. And then it seemed like a lot of work, so I kept petting it. My new car has mags, Sebastian. Usually, I just have tires without hub caps because when I buy the junker, it’s so junked it doesn’t even come with them.”

“There will be a rule in our household. All cars must either have all of its hub cabs or mags, and any vehicle new to us cannot have more than one percent rust on the entire vehicle.”

“I’d have to buy new for that here.”

“I know.”

I considered him through narrowed eyes. “This is what you meant by you are spoiled, isn’t it?”

“In part.”

“Is this revenge for having left them for an entire week?”

“If it is, I’m curious to see what they do to you for leaving them for another week. Maybe you should contact your boss and see if I can spoil you in some other city at a spa.”

“Can I quit?” I set the unlocked padlocks in a pile on the ground. “If I quit, and I get two more weeks of spa time, this sounds like a good idea to me. But then I’ll have to mooch off you while I look for a saner job.” I wiggled under my new car to get to one of the padlocks, discovering several small, wrapped presents that’d fallen out of the glitter trap. “Oh! More presents. Sebastian, come take these for me, and put them with my box, please. My car seems to be boobytrapped with gifts.”

“How odd. Your car is showering you with gifts now. It must be that excited to be going home with you. I wish my car gave me presents when I crawled under it. It just gives me a hard time.”

“Do you even have a car? You cabbed to meet me.” I handed over the five boxes, two of which were shaped liked books, and resumed freeing my car from its prison.

“I do, but it’s scheduled to go to the great car graveyard, as it has reached the end of its days. And with you coming home with me, it’s time for a better vehicle anyway. You can help me pick one.”

“I’m unqualified to help shop for a new car, but if you’re looking for a rust bucket you can strangle to death over the course of a few years, I’m your woman.”

“I’m sure you can be taught the wonders of car shopping, even if you follow me around the lot while I argue with myself for hours over which one is the perfect one. Lions need perfect cars. I’ll be back in a minute.”