Dead on Delivery by Eileen Rendahl Page A

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