Then there was the biggest truth, which I hated admitting, only because I felt bad about it. Ego was a pretty cool guy before any of this. His turning into a vampire and hiding away had been what brought us closer. The whole anchor had forced that proximity even more, but the truth was, I’d been the dick who’d purposely kept myself from getting to know who he was past his public persona.
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Ego said.
“You do have other options,” Lysandro said as he opened the briefcase. “You could go outside so we could work on speed, or you could feed from my wrist. Or Scotty’s if he’s willing.”
Ego’s body jerked back like he’d been struck. “I’m not willing to feed from any human. Least of all Scotty.”
“But he’s your anchor, which means?—”
Ego banged his fist down on the bar top, cracking the expensive marble triangle pattern on top. “I don’t care what it means. I. Will. Not. Take. Advantage. Of. Him.”
Lysandro put his hands up in surrender, but I kinda wished he’d pushed him on it. I had no problem with being Ego’s blood bag, I realized with a start. In fact, I thought it might be kinda cool. And I was really interested in what Lysandro had been about to say about why feeding on me as his anchor would matter. But I knew that Ego was stressed. I could feel the discomfort radiating off of him.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I asked you to let Lysandro train you, and you’re sticking to your side of thebargain. Unfortunately, I guess that means you’re in for some punishment tonight.”
Lysandro flipped his wrist. “Hardly.”
He finished opening the case to reveal a true torture kit. What the hell? He smiled at us happily. “Isn’t it lovely?”
“Who are you?” I asked. “You’re normally so…nice.”
Looking affronted, he frowned. “Iamnice. I don’t use this. Normally. Or at least not in a long while.” He waved that off, too, and his grin returned. “Where would you like to start?”
I stared down at the hammer, the dagger, the long nails, a short screw, the hand saw, darts, and some kind of small circular blade. Ego was actually supposed to pick being tortured by one of these things.
He blew out a breath and shrugged. “You pick.”
Lysandro rubbed his hands together merrily, which…wow. I wasn’t sure I truly knew this version of him at all. “Put your hand back on the counter.”
Before I completed my next blink, he’d slammed Ego’s hand with the hammer. I heard the crack of bones and let out an involuntary scream.
Ego stood unmoving for thirty seconds, then shook out his hand. “Well, that wasn’t pleasant.”
I gripped his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
He held his hand out in front of him, staring at it in confusion. “Yeah. I think so.”
Lysandro hummed. “If you’d been in a real fight with someone who knew how to kill you, you’d be dead. You really need to work on your reaction time.”
“Lys, you freakin’ hit me with a hammer.”
Lysandro narrowed his eyes. “For that”—he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder so fast I didn’t have time to process what was happening before he crossed the room and threw something at Ego—“you get the star.”
Ego screamed, “Fuck!”
I watched in horror as he gripped his blood-soaked face, then pulled the circular blade, which I guess was the star, out of his damn eyeball. Like, right out of his eye. Gagging, I turned away. “Did he lose his eyeball?”
Lysandro hummed. “I should think not. If he pulled it out, he could always put it back in.”
Choking back vomit, I asked, “Are you kidding me? It’s not like he’s a zombie.”
Lysandro snorted. “Of course not. Once they lose a limb or an eye or ear or whatever, it’s gone.” He patted my shoulder, and I heard him move away from me.
“Ego,” I called out. “Are you, uh, okay?”
“Other than being covered in blood, I’m fine,” he answered, sounding tired. “Scotty, you might want to go up to your room.”
I wanted to. More than I wanted my next breath, I wanted to go hide from all of this blood and gore, but I wouldn’t. If being his anchor meant keeping Ego tied to his humanity, then I needed to know what he was capable of and what might set him off. I needed to be as prepared for what was ahead as he was.
