A Wolf at the Door

“Why exactly are we doing this?” Gretchen offered her hand, and I stabbed her with a fresh pin.

“Because I think I know what that thing is that’s been attacking us, and if I’m right, it shouldn’t bleed. Shouldn’t be able to bleed.” A droplet of blood welled up on her finger, and she stuck it in her mouth in lieu of a bandage. We both turned to look expectantly at Dante.

“Really?” When we just kept looking at him, he grumbled and held out his hand. “Why is the black man always the suspect?”

Gretchen chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder, and I jabbed him in the finger. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, but just when my adrenaline was about to kick in, a tiny bit of blood seeped to the surface. “Congrats, Dante. You pass.” I blotted it away with a tissue, then handed him a bandage.

A knock sounded at the door, which brought Tai immediately awake. “Oh good, room service is here.”

I blinked at him. “I stab you in the hand, you don’t wake up. But one hint of food, and you’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” He just grinned and shrugged at me as I got up to answer the door. “Hey, Dante? Burn those tissues, okay?” Blood wasn’t something I wanted just lying around for any old demon or spell caster to pick up. Even I knew that much.

“Yessir.”

Spencer was waiting at the door when I opened it, and he grinned as he pushed the cart in. “Hey, Jesse Dawson! How’s it going?”

“Not bad, man, yourself?” I stuck my hand out to him, and when he reached to shake mine, I stabbed him in the back of the hand with the safety pin I’d palmed.

“Ow!” I held him until I saw blood, then let go. “What was that for?”

“Amusement.” I could be nice, though. I handed him a bandage.

Instead of being pissed off—and if someone stabbed me with a safety pin, that’s exactly what I’d be—he got that look again, like he’d just seen a glimpse of the real Santa Claus. “You’re testing for something, aren’t you? Taking DNA maybe? Ooh! Implanting me with a microchip! No, wait, vaccinating me against an alien virus! Man, I gotta write this down…” He patted down his pockets until he found a pen, then scribbled some notes on our ticket. “I can totally use this, this is good stuff.”

There are so many kinds of crazy in the world. Spencer was his own unique brand. “Just park the cart over there, man.” I pointed generally in the direction of the dining table.

There was a tiny whoosh from the fireplace as Dante incinerated the bloody tissues, and Tai barely let Spencer get the cart stopped before he started pawing through the plates.

“We weren’t sure what you’d want, but I figured bacon was a safe bet.” He handed me a plate heaped with it, and my stomach gave a loud growl. It had been a long time since the mushroomy things at the party last night.

“Bacon is perfect.” I stuffed several pieces in my mouth, then realized that Spencer was still standing there, staring at all of us. “I’m still not tipping you. Get the hell out.”

With a sigh, he departed.

“You know that guy?” Tai asked, and I just mumbled something around my mouth full of bacon. I wasn’t claiming responsibility for Spencer, no how.

Before I could gorge myself completely on my breakfast, something buzzed in my jeans pocket. I hadn’t thought about my phone in so long, I’d forgotten I even had it. I’d also forgotten to call my wife for like two days. Oops.

Taking the bacon with me, I retreated to the spare bedroom. “Hey, baby!”

There was a long pause at the other end of the line, and then Mira sighed. “I’m guessing from the sound of your voice that you’re perfectly fine. So now I don’t know if I should be relieved, or furious.”

“I vote both. I deserve it.” I flopped on the bed, munching on my breakfast. “I am so sorry, baby. Things got a little nuts out here and I completely lost track of time.” Come to think of it, I wasn’t even sure what day it was. Not good, when we had a mysterious New Year’s Eve deadline breathing down our necks.

“Yeah, we saw.”

“What?”

“You’ve been all over the tabloid shows this week. Beating up paparazzi, going in and out of hospitals and dance clubs…. That was a nice silk shirt she bought you, by the way.”

Inwardly, I cringed. I could only imagine how those pictures looked. “Would you believe I’ve destroyed that shirt already?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me any.” She hesitated a moment. “You are okay, right?”

“Fine and dandy. The hospital trip wasn’t mine.”

“Oh. That’s good, I guess.”

There was something important I was supposed to ask her, but it took me a few minutes to remember what it was. “Oh! Hey, do you know any more about…y’know.”

“No. Test is still negative. I’m still late.”

“Maybe you should go see Bridget. I mean, what if something’s wrong?” That thought chilled me clear down to my core. What if something was wrong with Mira? What if it was something really bad?

“She knows. We’ve talked about it. If it goes on much longer, we’ll do something. Right now, it still falls into the realm of stress or just plain getting older.”