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Booker laughs. “Now, now, where would I find human teeth, silly boy?”

“I was assuming they were fake.”

“How odd.”

I don’t think I want him to confirm whether I was right or wrong on this one. “I broke my arm as a kid.”

“Pass. Boring. Next. Of course you did—you’re a hazard. Please make this harder on me.”

“It’s your turn,” I point out. There’s no rule that what I tell him has to be fun or interesting.

“Peril is my favorite night of the year.”

“What’s a peril?”

“Is that a follow-up question?”

“Considering I have no idea what you just said, how am I supposed to guess?” He doesn’t go on to clarify. “Fine. False.”

“Indeed, indeed?”

I’m glad he’s having fun, at least. “I’m going to Portland.”

“False. You’re not going anywhere.”

“I will be once my car is fixed.”

“And yet you’re doing suspiciously little to make that happen.”

I almost laugh. “I’m here, aren’t I? Playing your game.”

“Actually, this is your game, and it’s my turn. I had a pet when I was younger. A Jack Russell terrier. My parents sent him away because apparently it’s not okay to train your animals to bite.”

“Of course it isn’t.” I cross my arms. “It could get put down for that!”

“I’ll have you know I’m a responsible pet owner. I only ever let it bite me.”

“How is that better?”

“So many questions!” His face is lit up with glee.

“That better be fake.” The last thing I want to think about is baby Booker training a childhood pet for evil. Fuck me.

“It better, huh?” There’s unexpected sadness in his tone, but I know better than to read into it.

“I flushed my high school bully’s laptop in the toilet right before our biggest test of the year.”

“True. You’re a deviant through and through.” He leans against his workbench. “I’m thirty-one.”

“I dunno … probably.” I would have guessed younger based on his baby face, but since he’s a doctor, there would have had to be study involved in that. I try to throw him off with something random. “Lynx thinks I’m using magic on him.”

Booker’s head falls back on a laugh. “Of course he thinks that. But what kind of magic? Oh no. I can’t stand this game anymore, it’s too good. Is that why he gave you his little knife?”

I copy Booker’s action from last time, tapping the side of my nose. He’s vibrating with excitement.

“I don’t understand people,” he says.

“True.” Not that I do either. “I’m running from two men.”