Wow, Maggie thought as he came closer. She could feel the air around her all but crackle with magic. Not hers, but magic just the same. It danced on her skin almost as much as it did when she went through the artists colony on the north side.

"The ceiling can take it, but bloodstains are a bitch to get out of plaster," Maggie quipped back. She nodded at his request and opened the bar fridge behind her. When she turned back around she had the bottle, still closed, in one hand and a white cloth in the other. "Would you like me to see to the wound, or would you rather do it yourself?"