Dead on Delivery (9 page)

“I don’t want either of them driving my truck.” Ted had started to shake a little.

I touched his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I don’t feel great.” He slumped against the window.

I glanced over at him. His face was pale and shone with sweat. “You don’t look great either.”

He swallowed hard. “Boy, you sure know what to say to a guy.”

“How about this? Take my cell phone. Call Alex. Tell him we’re on our way.”

“I don’t need your cell,” he said, fishing his own phone out of his pocket with his left hand and dialing awkwardly. “I have him on speed dial, too.”

“Since when?” I wasn’t exactly sure why it bothered me that Alex and Ted might have been talking without me, but it did.

“Since last spring.”

“What do you talk about?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Melina . . .” Ted held the phone up to his ear.

I glanced over at him. He really didn’t look good. “Got it. We’ll talk later.”

I gritted my teeth and drove.

ALEX MET US AT THE DOOR TO MY APARTMENT BUILDING holding an old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag. He slung one arm under Ted’s armpits and helped me hoist him up the stairs. It was one of those times that I really questioned the intelligence of living in a third floor walk-up. Could have been worse, though. We could have been walking into Sacramento County Hospital trying to figure out how to explain what had happened to Ted. “Thanks for not making me take him to the hospital,” I said.

He shook his head, dark hair flopping over his forehead. “I get it. The less questions, the better. Now what exactly happened? Prince Charming here wasn’t exactly totally coherent on the telephone.”

“Mexican devil dog,” Ted said, his eyes burning. “’Tacked us out of nowhere. Crazy!”

Alex looked at me. “Delirious?”

I shook my head. “Nope. A cadejo. Or the son of a cadejo.”

He whistled. “Any idea why?”

“Not really,” I admitted.

Alex glanced at me from around Ted. “I’m betting you’re going to want to know now.”

“Pretty much.” I grunted as we hoisted Ted up another stair.

“You realize someone probably sent him after you as a warning.” We stopped for a moment on the second-floor landing to rest.

I was reasonably certain that Alex could have carried Ted the rest of the way up the stairs without my help, but I appreciated his discretion in letting Ted do as much as he could. It wouldn’t do to emasculate the one actual living breathing man I had in my life. “I hate it when they do that. It just makes me want to dig deeper.”

Alex smiled. “You think they’d learn by now.”

“Why?” Ted asked. “She hasn’t. Someone warns her. She sticks her nose in farther. It’s the Melina Way.”

Alex chuckled. “It is at that.”

We were almost to the apartment. I figured I could defend my honor later. “I think I better go ahead and clear the way. You okay here on your own for a few minutes?”

They both nodded. I glanced at Ted’s bloody arm. The bleeding had stopped, but there was still some oozing. I glanced back at Alex again. “You’re sure?”

“What? You think your boyfriend’s blood is so tasty and delicious that I can’t control myself for a few minutes? Dream on, sister. He’s not that special.” He leaned against the wall, looking like the picture of casual nonchalance.

Ted looked affronted. “My blood’s not good enough for you? I’m B positive. Only like ten percent of the population has that.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” Alex assured him. “But I already ate.”

I grinned and bounded up the last flight.

My grin faded as I tried to open the door and was stopped by the chain again. I opened the door as far as the chain would let me. “Norah, it’s me,” I said, with the slightest soupçon of guilt over the fact that it wasn’t just me. Then I sneezed. A little cloud of smoke came out of the door. I banged harder. “Norah! Are you okay? I smell smoke.”

She took the chain off. “What’s wrong? Why are you out of breath?”

I countered with, “What’s that smell?”

“Sage. I’m smudging the apartment.” She opened the door the rest of the way. Our little entryway was a maze of crystals.

“And that?” I asked, pointing.

She turned and walked back into the apartment. “It’s our first line of defense.”

“Against what?”

She picked up the copy of the grimoire I’d given her that morning. “Against whatever is trying to get in here.” She dropped it on the breakfast bar with a thud.

“About that . . .” I said, and launched into my explanation of what had happened.

“So is Ted okay?” Norah asked, gnawing at a fingernail.

“That’s the thing. Not really. I’d really like Alex to take a look at this bite, but I don’t want to take Ted into the hospital. I wouldn’t want to try and explain what happened to anybody. It’s not something that most people would understand, you know?”

“So where do you want to go?”

I gave her my most engaging smile. “Here.”

She took three steps back and almost tripped on a crystal. “There has to be someplace else. Why can’t you go to Alex’s place?”

Truth was, I’d never actually been to Alex’s place. I had also wanted to end up here at my place with Ted. Moving him was an issue. For a relatively slender guy, he weighed a ton. He was solid muscle. “This seemed like a better choice.”

Norah cocked her head and looked at me. “They’re right outside, aren’t they?”

“On the landing.”

“Listening.”

“Well, probably Alex is. He can’t help it. He hears really well.”

She threw her hands in the air and shook her head. “Then they might as well come in.”

I hugged her. “Thanks. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

She picked up the grimoire and headed toward her bedroom. “No need to promise. I’ll make sure of it myself.”

I watched her door close with a twinge of unease. I needed to deal with the situation, but Ted’s situation was more dire. Norah would have to wait. I threw the door open. “It’s safe to come in.”

Alex and Ted made it the rest of the way into the apartment. Ted sneezed and groaned. Alex looked over at me. “You’re smudging? At a time like this?”

“Norah is.” I got under Ted’s other arm. “Where do you want him?”

“Kitchen will do.”

We plopped Ted down on one of the breakfast-bar stools. Alex opened up his medical bag and began rummaging in it. First he pulled out a pair of bandaging scissors and sliced away the rest of Ted’s sleeve.

“Hey,” Ted protested. “I liked that shirt.”

“Relax, big guy, Melina will buy you another one for your birthday. When is your birthday, anyway?” Alex examined the bite mark, turning Ted’s arm from side to side. He motioned for me to get him some water.

“February. I’m an Aquarius. What’s your sign, Alex?”

I brought the bowl of hot water over and looked at Ted. How out of it was he?

“I would be a Gemini,” Alex said. It didn’t look good, but it also wasn’t as bad as I’d been afraid of it being. It didn’t look like the cadejo had managed to make a deep puncture wound, but it was puffy and swollen and red.

“Very compatible, you and I.” Ted winked at Alex and then tried to pull his arm away as Alex began to clean the wounds.

“We knew that already.” Alex kept a tight hold on Ted’s arm.

“You know that hurts, right?” Ted said, wincing.

“I figured.” Alex didn’t look up from his work, but he smiled a little.

Ted twisted a little on the bar stool. “Are you going to be done soon?”

“I’ll be done when I’m done.”

“But that’ll be soon, right?” Ted twisted some more.

“That’ll be now.” Alex stood up and stripped the latex gloves off his hands. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

I looked at him. “It was a cadejo. Not the Chihuahua next store. I don’t think a tetanus shot will fix whatever it could have given him.”

“Or the son of a cadejo, so it would have all the properties of a regular dog bite on top of all the magic,” he reminded me. “And a puncture wound is a puncture wound. You ever see lockjaw?”

I shook my head.

“Well, I have and it’s not pretty.” His face looked grim. Whatever he was remembering wasn’t pleasant.

“It was two years ago. My shots are all up-to-date. The force insists on it,” Ted interrupted.

“Okay. So no tetanus needed. That’s good. How about a nice healthy dose of antibiotics, then?” Alex smiled.

“Sounds fabulous.” Ted’s head began to droop toward the counter.

Antibiotics? I could have gotten those from the nearest Doc in a Box. What was the point of having a vampire doctor if he didn’t treat the supernatural part of the wound? “The dog was at least part demon, Alex. Are you really sure that all we need is antibiotics?”

He handed me a piece of paper from his prescription pad. “They’re very wide spectrum.”

“Ha ha. How about something to deal with the demonic poison that’s clearly in him?” Ted’s head dropped all the way to the counter.

Alex picked up Ted’s hand and started taking his pulse. “You mean my special magic salve that sucks evil out of bodies?”

I squirmed. It sounded stupid when he said it like that. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

“It doesn’t exist.” He didn’t even look up from his wristwatch.

“There’s got to be something.” I insisted.

“You could try dried slippery elm. It can be helpful. Not as good as a nice wide-spectrum antibiotic, but it wouldn’t hurt.”

Now we were talking. “I don’t suppose you have any on you.”

He snorted. “No. I don’t carry powdered slippery elm or lobelia or goldenseal around with me.”

Fabulous. Where the hell was I supposed to get slippery elm at this time of night? Or any time of day or night, for that matter? “So where am I supposed to get it at this time of night?” I asked out loud.

“I have some,” Norah said from behind me.

I turned. Alex barely glanced up. He must have known she was there all along. He has a way better sense of smell than I do. Now that I was looking for it, I caught a whiff of her lavender scent. It probably smelled like a huge spray of Glade to him.

“Why exactly do you have powdered slippery elm?” I asked.

She looked a little defiant. Or as defiant as you can when you’ve got arms that look like spaghetti strands akimbo on your hips. “It was in the book. It said it was something you should always have on hand, just in case, so I went shopping this afternoon. Melina, have you read that thing? I don’t think you have, because you are woefully unprepared.”

 

 

WITHIN A COUPLE OF HOURS, TED LOOKED SIGNIFICANTLY less glassy-eyed. Alex had taken off with Ted’s keys and a promise that the truck would be in front of Ted’s condo before sunrise. Some of the stiffness had gone out of how Norah was holding herself as soon as he left.

I had been surprised that she hadn’t gone back to her room and locked the door as soon as she handed over the slippery elm. She’d stayed out in the kitchen with us, almost as if once she was in Alex’s presence, she didn’t want to separate from him again. My best guess at the moment was that she wanted to keep an eye on him as long as he was in our apartment. I know I like to keep any enemies that are nearby in clear view. It hadn’t felt like that, though. It had felt like they were doing some kind of complicated dance, something sexy and tango-like. If one advanced, the other retreated, only to advance again in the face of the other’s retreat. Or maybe I was just tired and thinking too hard.

“You okay?” I asked her as she slumped down onto one of the bar stools.

She nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be to see him again. I felt okay, especially since I have this now.” She pulled a tiny silver cross out of her shirt.

“Another helpful hint from the book?” I asked.

“Yep. I don’t understand why you don’t wear one.” She gave me a funny sidelong look.

I rubbed my face and pondered how to explain it. “The cross only works to ward off a vampire if you believe in it.” I didn’t mention that it helped a whole lot if the person who had made the cross also believed in it and wasn’t, say, a political prisoner making massproduced cheap jewelry in China.

“You can believe in what the cross stands for even if you were raised Jewish, Melina.” Norah fingered the little piece of jewelry. “It can be about the spirit of Jesus’s teachings.”

“Plus, it’s kind of my job to associate with vampires, at least on occasion. It would be a little rude to be warding them off.” I also knew that a little piece of metal was unlikely to stop a marauding vampire in his or her tracks. A nice big, fat stake aimed right at the withered remains of a heart? A much more satisfactory deterrent. Even holy water wouldn’t do much more than slow one down. Still, if it made Norah feel safer, then who was I to argue? It’s why I’d given her the book in the first place, wasn’t it? “For you, though? I think it’s a great idea.”