Newt's eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his blue-pink hair. Then he launched himself toward the entrance, wings buzzing as he zipped out of the kitchen.
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. Great. Now everyone would know within the hour.
Footsteps approached from behind. Zeppelin appeared in the doorway, phone pressed to his ear. “Understood. We'll be here.” He ended the call and met Logan’s gaze. “Doctor can't show up until dark. He's vampire, so sunlight's an issue.”
Another wait. More hours of watching Nick suffer while they sat on their hands. Logan’s fingers tightened around his mug, ceramic warming against his skin. “How long?”
“Few hours.” Zeppelin moved to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. “He's good. It’s worth a shot since Nick is vampire too.”
Logan nodded, draining his coffee in three long gulps. The caffeine hit his system but did nothing to ease the knot in his stomach. He rinsed the mug, set it in the sink, and headed back upstairs.
Jamie still sat with Nick, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when Logan entered, offering a small smile. “He stirred once. Didn't wake up, just shifted positions.”
“Thanks.” Logan reclaimed his chair, and Jamie slipped out without another word.
Time crawled. Logan counted Nick's breaths and watched shadows lengthen across the floor as afternoon bled into evening. His mate didn't wake, but the tension in his face eased slightly, the pain giving way to something closer to rest.
Finally, as darkness claimed the sky outside, a knock sounded at the door.
“Enter,” Logan called.
A man stepped through, carrying a black leather bag. He was tall, with pale skin and dark hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. Dark eyes swept the room, landing on Nick with professional interest. “I'm Dr. Thorne.”
Logan stood, positioning himself between the doctor and the bed. Protective instinct flared hot in his gut. “Logan. This is Nick.”
“Your mate, I understand.” Dr. Thorne set his bag on the dresser, opening it with practiced efficiency. “Zeppelin briefed me on the situation. I'll need a blood sample to run some tests.”
On the bed, Nick stirred. His eyes cracked open, unfocused and hazy. “Logan?”
“Right here, baby.” Logan moved to his side, taking Nick's hand. “There's a doctor here. He's going to help.”
Nick's gaze found Dr. Thorne, and something flickered across his face. Recognition, maybe, of what the man was. “Okay.”
“I need your permission to draw blood,” Dr. Thorne said, pulling supplies from his bag.
“Go ahead.” Nick's voice came out rough, strained.
Logan’s stomach clenched. Watching someone approach his mate with a needle felt wrong on every level. His wolf paced restlessly, wanting to intervene, to protect. But Nick needed answers, and this was, hopefully, the only way to get them.
Dr. Thorne worked quickly, tying a tourniquet around Nick's arm and swabbing the inside of his elbow. The needle slid in smoothly, blood flowing into the vial. Logan forced himself to watch, to stay calm, even as every instinct screamed at him to stop this.
After filling the vial, Dr. Thorne removed the needle and pressed gauze to the puncture site. “Hold this.”
Nick complied, his other hand still gripping Logan’s.
Opening his bag wider, Dr. Thorne revealed an array of strange instruments. Vials of colored liquid, small glass slides, and what looked like a miniature centrifuge. Logan stared, trying to figure out what a vampire would need with half this equipment.
Dr. Thorne's nose twitched. He paused, head tilting slightly, then glanced toward the door.
Logan’s gaze cut to Zeppelin, who'd appeared in the doorway. Their eyes met, and understanding passed between them. Newt. The doctor had caught the fae's scent.
But Dr. Thorne didn't comment, just went back to his work. He used a small dropper to add Nick's blood to a clear solution in a test tube. The liquid swirled, changing from clear to yellow then deepening to pale pink.
Dr. Thorne studied the results, his expression unreadable. Then he looked up, and a smile crossed his face. “Congratulations.”
Logan blinked. “What?”
Nick looked equally confused, propping himself up on his elbows. “Congratulations for what?”
