Finally. Anandur smiled as his phone chimed with the ringtone he’d assigned to Carol. He’d known she was going to cave in. The mission, although dangerous in the extreme, was too tempting for her to give up just because she was squeamish about killing an animal.

“Carol, what’s up?” He was already thinking about where he should take her hunting.

“You need to come down to the gym.”

He frowned, switching the phone to his other ear. “Why? What’s going on? Is anyone giving you trouble?”

Taking over the self-defense classes when Carol herself was still a trainee must have been difficult. There were always assholes who liked to mouth off to the instructor, especially when she was a small, soft woman like Carol.

“It’s Brundar. He’s been training for hours, and he looks like he is going to drop any moment but pushes himself to keep going. No one dares to approach him, but maybe you can talk sense into him. Do you know what’s eating him?”

Anandur had an inkling that it had something to do with a certain green-eyed girl.

“I’m coming down. In the meantime, clear the gym.”

“Already did.”

Anandur had seen his brother in that state before. Not lately, though. It hadn’t happened in decades, but he knew the signs.

When Brundar couldn’t handle his emotions, he retreated deep into himself. His pale blue eyes, which looked cold and unfeeling on any given day, turned so flat and deadened that he looked soulless.

But he wasn’t. Brundar was hurting, and the only way he knew how to deal with emotional upheaval was to beat it into submission either by storming into battle or keep training until he dropped.

The thing was, there was not much Anandur could do about it besides watch over the guy and make sure he didn’t attack any innocent bystanders. When he got like that, Brundar turned into a machine, oblivious to the fact that his body was made of flesh and bone and not titanium, and that not everyone around him was the enemy.

When he got there, Carol was waiting for him outside the gym, her big eyes showing her worry. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”

He patted her shoulder. “When other guys drown their sorrows in booze or go brawling, Brundar trains, or fights if there is an enemy who needs killing. He is too dangerous to indulge in what other dudes do to relieve stress.”

Carol nodded. “Is it safe for you to go in there?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fight him. Not unless he is so far gone that he attacks me.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“It hasn’t happened yet, and I’ve seen him in this state before.”

“I’ll stay here in case you need me.” She patted the handgun strapped to her thigh. “As a last resort.”

“Good idea. Aim for the knees. But only if it looks like he is about to take off my head.” Carol was an excellent shot. She wouldn’t miss.

Entering the gym, Anandur stayed near the entrance. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched his brother.

Bare-chested and barefoot, his pale skin covered in a shine of sweat, Brundar wielded his sword with the fluid grace of a dancer, executing each series of moves flawlessly even though his arms must’ve been killing him. Anandur was well familiar with the burn that came from swinging a heavy sword for hours.

Being ambidextrous, Brundar could go on wielding it for much longer. He kept switching, letting one hand rest while using the other. His brother hadn’t been born with the ability. He’d trained until he achieved mastery with either hand.

Oblivious to Anandur’s presence, Brundar kept going until his movements began slowing, imperceptibly at first, then gradually getting more and more laborious. When he couldn’t lift his arms anymore, Brundar braced the tip of his sword on the floor, cutting a deep indent into the matting as he leaned on it.

Anandur had been waiting for that moment patiently. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

Brundar shook his head.

“You should’ve realized by now that it’s impossible to kill invisible demons with a sword, no matter how many times you imagine taking off their ugly heads.”

Brundar nodded. “Do you have anything to say that is actually helpful, or do you just like to hear yourself talk?”

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

For a couple of minutes, it seemed Brundar wasn’t going to respond.

But then, looking down at where his sword cut into the matting, he said quietly, “It’s getting harder.”

“What is?”

“Living in the zone. It used to be easy.”

Brundar’s accursed zone. The place inside his head he hid in to avoid living. “Was it ever fun? That desolate emptiness you call the zone?”

For the first time since Anandur had arrived, Brundar turned and looked him in the eyes. “It’s peaceful. I need the quiet to function at my best.”

Anandur shook his head. “People, even top athletes, don’t live in the zone, Brundar, they slip into it when they need to. What you’re doing is hiding from life.”

Brundar shrugged. “It works for me.”

“Does it? Because it doesn’t look like it from where I stand. You’re a high-functioning walking dead.”

Yanking the sword out of the floor, Brundar walked over to where he’d left its scabbard, and sheathed it. “If that’s all, I’m going to hit the shower.”

Not today, buddy. Today you are going to talk whether you want to or not. If necessary, Anandur was going to follow the guy under the spray.

“Life is messy, and it stinks, and it hurts, but it’s also beautiful and exciting. Hiding from it to avoid the pain, you’re missing out on all its fucked-up glory. It’s worth enduring tons of crap for a few moments of wonderful.”

Brundar picked up his stuff and started walking. “Not for me.”

Anandur followed. “That’s what you’ve convinced yourself of, but it’s a lie.”

Stopping, Brundar turned around, his eyes blazing with fury. “Are you calling me a liar?”

With a smirk, Anandur crossed his arms over his chest. “What if I am?”

In the blink of an eye, the sword was out of its scabbard, with the rest of Brundar’s stuff hitting the floor. “Do you want to repeat that?”

Anandur lifted a brow. “First, drop the sword and lift your fists.” With a weapon in hand, Brundar was undefeated, but he wasn’t as good in hand to hand, for the simple reason he never trained for it.

The sword clanked to the floor.

With a big grin, Anandur leaned forward and enunciated, “Liar.”