As soon as the door opened, Ainsley's nose was assaulted with the scent of fresh blood. Mostly human-smelling, though slightly off. His fangs extracted a little, poking at his lips when they curved up in a small, sad sort of smile. "It's fine," he said, stepping back to silently invite the kid inside. "You're welcome whenever, not just as a last resort."
He shut the door behind Mason, flicking the deadbolt into place, then turned and gestured towards the couch. "I don't exactly have bandages and shit." Why would he, when common scrapes and nicks healed up within minutes? "But I can pop down to the shop."