“You are most certainly not alright. For fuck’s sake,” I replied. “Did you take that first vial that Fen gave you?”
“Oh,” she said meekly. “I might have forgotten about that.”
“If you weren’t already bleeding, Asher, I would kick your ass. Drink that godsdamned tincture. Right now,” I growled.
This woman needed to take better care of herself. Did she have a death wish?
“I’m taking you back to the infirmary,” I muttered.
“Oh, gods—pleasedon’t,” she begged.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape. I can clean it up at home.”
Absolutely not. Her apartment was still something close to twenty minutes away, and that was walking at our usual pace. It would take twice as long with her walking around on baby deer legs, partially concussed.
“I’ll give you two options, Little Conduit. You’re either going back to the infirmary, or I’m taking you to my townhouse to take a look at that scrape myself. Your choice.”
“You live nearby?”
I realized now that in the year or so we’d known one another, she had never seen where I lived. We always met up at her place, HQ, or other various locations on campus.I really was a closed-off son of a bitch, wasn’t I?
“Yeah, just a few blocks from here, actually.”
She winced as she straightened herself up, pulled one of the vials from her pocket, uncorked it and knocked it back like a shot.
Good girl.
“Pick your poison, Asher. I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re stable and healthy.”
“Ugh, fine. Take me to the townhouse,” she groaned. “I am not going back to tell the clerics that I fainted in the middle of the road.”
“As you wish,” I replied, proffering an arm to steady her as she lifted herself up off the ground.
“Sorry,” she said quietly as I steered us both in the direction of home.
“Tell that to your head,” I muttered, still irritated by her lack of good sense.
In the ten minutes it took us to get to my place, the tincture had already started to take effect. Arken’s eyes were brighter, with color returning to her cheeks. She didn’t need to lean on me or the railing as I’d led her up the stairs to my front door.
“This is where you live?” she asked, eyes widening as she took in the casual grandeur of the neighborhood.
“I make good money as a captain, thank you very much,” I replied, unlocking the door and leading her inside.
“Tea?” I offered after getting her settled in on my couch with a damp rag for her head.
“I’ll take some cold water, if you have it.”
I pulled a small carafe from the icebox and poured her a glass. I also quickly grabbed a scone, slathered it with some orange blossom jam and clotted cream, and tossed that on a plate as well.
“Eat,” I said, returning to the kettle to prepare my own tea. Fates knew my frayed nerves could use it—this girl was going to put me in an early grave.
“Don’t start with me, Asher,” I warned as she opened her mouth, most assuredly to argue.
“You are so demanding,” she said, clearly suppressing a grin.
She had no idea.