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“Why didn’t you do the other hand, then?”

“That defeats the purpose.”

I huff, pulling the thread tighter than I probably should, but if I take my frustration out on him, it’s not like I can be blamed. “You’re testing me.”

“Yes.”

“What if I refused to help?”

“Then you would have failed the test.”

“But what would you have done?”

“Bled a lot, I imagine.”

I shake my head, starting on the next stitch. “What test was important enough to risk that?”

Booker doesn’t answer, but when I glance back up at his face, there’s no hint of his smile. His deep eyes are inspecting me, giving off the feeling that he’s trying to look inside my brain, and when he’s serious like this, he looks a lot older than his baby face usually does. “Lynx is in trouble.”

I jolt. “What do you mean?”

“Oh yes. You’re not a rabbit at all, little snake.” He laughs suddenly. “This is going to be so much fun. I’m thoroughly enjoying my time in the End, but lately, I’ve needed a friend. An accomplice. Someone to assist during the long Peril nights, who I can tell all my secrets and learn all of theirs. I thought one of the brothers might fill that void, but they’re all as disappointing as the next. You, though …” Booker cackles again. “You might actually be able to handle the role.”

I tear my attention back to the wound. “I don’t want to be anyone’s friend. I’ll be gone the second my car is fixed.”

“Yes, but your car being fixed is reliant on me trading myself off to the Dale. Nasty little town full of terrifying men.” Instead of sounding scared, there’s a hint of excitement in his tone. “The only way I could be convinced of an extended stay there would be if I had a friend who could handle things while I was gone.”

“Ah. So this is blackmail.”

“The word blackmail has so many negatives attached to it. Think of it like a game. I like games.”

I tug the stitch hard again, and again, he doesn’t react. “I don’t.”

“Look at us, sharing our thoughts and feelings already.”

“I don’t trust a word you say.”

“Considering I’m rarely ever telling the truth, I don’t blame you.” He hums as I set up the next stitch. “Bit closer this time.”

“Here?”

“Perfect. See? Such a quick study. You’ll do nicely. Once you’re finished with Lynx, I’m going to request that Wilde gives you to me.”

I’m offended by his choice of words. “He’s not giving me to anyone.”

“Unfortunate.” Before I can stitch the next one, Booker tugs the needle from my hand, and I watch, mouth hanging open, as he makes fast work of the rest of them.

“What the hell?”

“Oh, look at that. I’m left-handed after all. I have no further use for you. You can go.”

I’m still in shock as he cleans up the area like he’s done it a thousand times already.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” I complain as I head for the door.

He doesn’t turn back to me, but I hear him loud and clear. “Pity there’s only one way to do that.”

Ignoring him, I shove through the door back outside and storm over to Wilde. He takes a long look at my blood-covered gloves before slowly pulling his eyes up to mine.