He nods once and scoops me up. "Hold tight."
Then we're outside, wind against my face, and the blur of motion around us until we're in his car. I clutch the cloth against my wound, trying to breathe through the nausea.
"Kayden found me. Said you needed help," he says, one hand already on the wheel, the other checking the mirrors before speeding off. "What happened?"
"I broke a wine glass. Cut myself." I wince as the movement jostles my arm. "Kayden… he lost control."
His jaw tightens, but he doesn't say anything.
"Where are we going?"
"The hospital," he says.
"I don't have insurance. And I can't register at the hospital, it'll leave a trace," I say quickly. "And I don't know how… my blood might be different. I don't want—"
"I'll handle it. Eira's on call tonight. She can take care of you off the books."
He makes the call, voice clipped and efficient. A few sharp words, then silence. He shoves his phone back into his pocket a little harder than necessary. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
"Asher—?"
"Would vampire blood help?" he asks, not looking at me.
I shake my head. "No. It's toxic to nymphs. At least… I was told that. Never tested it."
He nods tightly and presses the accelerator.
A drop of sweat rolls down his temple, and I notice how rigid his jaw is. The shallow rise and fall of his chest. Something's wrong.
"Asher… are you all right?"
His voice is tight. "I'll be fine. It's just… your blood. For some reason, it's harder. Even for me."
That sends a chill through me. He's always in control, calm, and collected. But right now, he's sweating, barely holding on from the look of it.
I hold the cloth tighter. Ten minutes stretch long and jagged.
When we finally reach the hospital, Asher pulls into the side lot. Eira's already waiting, a wheelchair at her side. I want to scoff, say it's overkill, but when I try to step out, my knees give. Eira catches me before I hit the ground.
She offers Asher a curt nod. "I'll take it from here."
He doesn't argue, turns back to the car and drives off. And I'm left wondering what it means when even Asher has to fight the urge.
Eira wheels me in with ease, navigating the corridors. No one stops or questions us. Just a nod from the night staff and we're through.
She guides me into a small, dim hospital room and closes the curtain around the bed. Everything is done with quiet precision. She helps me lie down gently, then moves with the silent rhythm of someone who's patched up more people than she could count. She lays out gauze, thread, antiseptic.
Sterile light, sterile smell. I hate it.
When the local anesthesia kicks in, she starts stitching. I stare at the ceiling. I don't want to see the blood. Not after tonight.
"I'm guessing vampire blood doesn't work to heal you," she says, voice calm and steady as her fingers move. "Since you've got two healthy donors at your disposal."
"No. It's supposed to be toxic to someone like me." My throat is dry. "Have you ever heard anything about that?"
Eira shakes her head slightly, focused on the wound. "No. But I don't know much about nymphs. They don't usually end up in hospitals." A pause. "You know, Asher donates blood regularly. I've used it to heal dozens of people here. Donna and Tomas, too, sometimes."
I glance at her. "And there are no side effects?"
