"Hold still, now. This will only be a moment."

Hans was the saint of the slums, a hero to the downtrodden and less fortunate. The man treated them for free, after all. Not only that, he was a miracle worker, treating even the grisliest of wounds with ease. Patients lined up at his doorstep daily, suffering from all manner of maladies; he treated them all, no questions asked. His reputation was such that even nobles from the more distinguished parts of the city would occasionally come by, hiding underneath expensive cloaks that nevertheless gave away their blue blood.

A smile graced his lips as he pulled the needle from his little secret's arm and plunged it into his own, their blood mixing together. "Thank you, my sweet," he whispered gently, feeling the rush of power in his veins. "Once more you've blessed me."

Who knew angel blood could enhance healing magic to such a degree? The good doctor would never let this one go.