Blood of the Maple (14 page)

Parker allowed his beast to surface. His eyes shifted, making the night bright as day. His claws and fangs descended. Parker jumped straight up and flew off into the night.

It was time to hunt his enemy.

It was time to kill.

Amara woke to a heavy weight across her middle. Her eyes were gritty, her mouth tasted like dead skunk and she had to pee like nobody’s business. She lifted Parker’s arm off her bladder and scuttled into the bathroom to take care of her body’s urgent memo to go go go.

She reached for her toothbrush and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Her skin was blotchy from crying, her hair a rat’s nest of red waves. The worst part was she felt worse than she looked.

Ken was dead.

Amara brushed her teeth and showered. She pulled out her uniform and her hiking boots and wrapped her wet hair in a ponytail. She got dressed quietly, despite knowing Parker wouldn’t wake up before nightfall. The vampire slept deeply, his chest unmoving in the dim light. She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and headed downstairs to grab a bite to eat.

“Morning, Bri.” She moved past the Renfield to reach for the orange juice.

“Morning, Amara.” The Renfield pulled her into a hug. For a second Amara leaned on him, giving in to the need for human comfort, knowing Brian needed the same. “This sucks eggs.”

“Yeah.” Amara pulled free and finished making her breakfast of muesli and juice. “What’re your plans for the day?”

“Weed killer. Lots of it. And paperwork. You?”

“I’m going to talk to Rock about being reassigned.”

Brian winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. I’m going to head into the forest, see if maybe Terri is hiding out there. It’s the best place for a weed to grow undetected.”

“Good point. I’m going to do my best to get the town meeting under way.”

Amara’s brows rose. “Town meeting?”

“Parker was pissed when he got back from his hunt. He damn near lisped, his fangs were so long. He wants the town to know about Terri so they’ll stop accusing you and start blaming him.”

Amara blinked. “What?”

“He hopes they’ll all condemn him for bringing Terri into town and leave you alone.” Brian shrugged. “I tried to argue with him, but when a vampire starts lisping, a Renfield starts nodding and yes, sir-ing.”

Amara wanted to bang her head on the table. If the townspeople decided to blame Parker, they’d hunt him down and kill him. Hell, she was surprised no one had tried to hunt
her
yet. “Tell him to hold off on the blame game. Or better yet, I’ll do it when I get home.” She’d have to have a long talk with her lover about the wisdom of pissing off an entire town of supernaturals. The weres alone would tear him to pieces without a second thought. Everyone, even Noah Wulfenbach, had loved Ken Madison. For his death alone the pack would want blood. “I’ll see you tonight. Tell Greg I said bye.”

“I will.” Brian looked sad. “He hasn’t spoken much today. I think he guarded us last night, and it took a lot out of him. He’s tired, and if he expends too much energy, he could fade away or be pulled to the other side of the Veil.”

“Tell him not to overdo it.” She couldn’t begin to imagine what Parker would do if he lost Greg. “We need him here too much, okay?”

Brian nodded, and Amara left, praying whatever shit was about to hit the fan did so far away from the people she loved most.

It didn’t take long to get from her house to the learning center. Rock was waiting, his thick arms crossed over his massive chest, patient as the stone he was named for. “Morning, Amara.”

Amara locked the jeep and pulled her hat low over her eyes. “Morning, Rock. We need to talk.”

Rock led the way into the center. “Talk.”

“I can’t take the kids.”

Rock didn’t even break stride. “Why?”

Amara filled him in on what happened the night before and the reaction of the townsfolk. “So if they see I’m the one leading the group, they’ll pull the kids.”

Rock grunted. “Going hunting?”

Amara almost sagged with relief; Rock understood and, more important, approved. “Yeah.”

He went into his office and pulled down a shotgun. “Need this?”

“Nope. I’ve got it covered.” She permitted bark to surface on her hands. “Do me a favor? Keep an eye out. If something smells rotten, it might be. Guard your back.”

“Will do.” Rock put his hand on her shoulder, the heavy weight reassuring her that Rock could take care of himself and probably every person in the center. There were surprising depths to the earth elemental that few people took the time to appreciate. He was much stronger than he allowed others to realize; only his closest friends knew
how
strong. “Take care. I have a bad feeling about today.”

Amara nodded. She’d be doubly on her guard. Rock’s bad feelings tended to be understatements. The last time he’d had one a Rakshasa had shown up at the center demanding the head of the
weredragon.
He’d refused to believe there
was
no weredragon and never had been. It had taken Rock hours to get the idiot to leave, and the damage to the center had been extensive.

The Rakshasa had been
very
stubborn.

She’d better be prepared for Armageddon if he was taking the time to warn her. “Thanks.”

“Amara?”

“Hmm?”

“Make sure you come back. Any way you have to.”

It was sweet the way Rock looked out for her. She couldn’t wait to introduce him to Parker. “I will.”

She stepped outside and scented the morning air. Crisp and clean and full of green, growing things, the fragrance usually left her feeling invigorated. Today she had to wonder what rot lurked under the clean odor. She left for the woods before the first students arrived, determined to stay away from the residents of Maggie’s Grove for however long it took to find Terri and snap her like a twig.

A few hours later the late-spring heat was beginning to wear on her. She’d found no sign of the witch, but plenty of signs of the local werewolf pack. They often ran together on the nights of the full moon, dancing under Her light and reveling together in ways a nonwere would never understand. But last night hadn’t been a full moon, so why were they out running as a pack? Did they have a new member?

A low growl sounded behind her. Amara froze, knowing what that sound meant. That wasn’t the sexy Parker growl, or even the one where his beast had come forth, determined to protect her.

This growl was the one of a wolf on the hunt.

The pack was after her. It didn’t take more than a second for her to realize it was fight or die. The next second was spent dropping her backpack and racing through the trees as fast as her limbs would carry her.

The pack had forgotten something. They thought the forest belonged to
them.

They were wrong.

Amara’s thoughts whispered through the trees, danced across the grass, lifting roots to trip paws and branches to whip into snouts. The forest rose in defense of one of their own, and the weres yelped in pain and surprise as it turned against them.

Amara’s feet flew across the ground, fast on her home turf. The pack had been foolish to confront her here, where she was strongest. She felt the energy flowing through her, the forest gifting her with its strength. Her skin tingled. Her bark covered her, protecting her from claws and teeth. The red leaves of her maple swirled around her as she grew. Soon she’d be ready to face them.

They were gaining on her, would be on her soon. She’d need to face them, teach them not to chase a dryad in the woods. Let them learn the true power of the forest they played in, hunted in. This might be the wolves’ playground, but it was Amara’s spiritual home, and she knew every square inch of it.

Ah. There.
The perfect spot to confront the pack. Amara turned and let loose her own howl, grinding the sound out until the trees swayed before her, bowing to her will.

Silence fell as her challenge ended. Amara waited, patient as the forest itself. The foolish pups would be unable to stop themselves from answering her challenge.

One by one they stepped out from between the trees, from underneath bushes, their hackles raised, their teeth bared. They would attack her, destroy her if they could, to protect the town from the menace they thought she was.

And for that alone Amara would let them live. They were protecting their own. She could understand that. But she refused to lie down and bare her neck to the pack alpha for something she hadn’t done.

They stared at one another, the dryad and the wolves. No birds sang, no insects chirped. The forest waited for the first move in a battle that could change Maggie’s Grove forever.

It was a wolf who moved first, leaping through the air, snarling, enraged. A branch whipped out, knocking the wolf to the forest floor. And it was on.

Amara’s consciousness sank into the trees and plants surrounding her. They became extensions of her limbs; their thoughts became hers. She knew without turning that a young wolf was sneaking up on her. A sturdy birch entangled him in its branches before he could lay one paw on her.

Before her, the alpha snapped and snarled, held back by the thorns of a bush that had moved in front of him. Another tree bound a wolf in its roots, holding the wriggling form until the wolf gave up, panting under the weight of dirt and wood. Amara shifted forms, allowed her inner self out in defense not only of herself, but the wolves as well. She twisted and turned, careful not to do lasting damage to the creatures in front of her. A body fell under one of her blows, unmoving but alive. She swung at another and heard the snap of bone, knew she’d broken one of the wolf’s legs. The wolf whimpered and maneuvered out of the fight.

They weren’t the ones who needed killing. Maybe someday they’d understand that neither was she.

Soon only the alpha and beta of the pack remained. Both were tired, but so was Amara. It had taken a great deal of her energy to fight off the entire pack, and she’d need to commune with her tree to recoup a lot of it.

The alpha, sensing the weakness in her defenses, leaped. Amara had no time to react.

A root wrapped around the alpha’s throat, effectively collaring him, chaining him to the forest floor. Amara reeled back, stunned.

How?
She hadn’t done that.

The beta, sensing his pack was defeated, howled in rage but bared his throat, submissive before the victor. But a swaying tree picked the beta up and curled its branches around him, dangling him above Amara’s head.

The pack was beaten. She’d won.

Sort of.

“Sister.”

Amara slowly turned, stunned to see the
true
dryads of Maggie’s Grove fanned out behind her. The rulers of the forest had finally come forth from the Throne to pass judgment on her.

Amara bowed and hoped Parker would understand. She had the feeling she was going to be late for dinner.

Parker paced the length of the town hall’s meeting room. His shoes squeaked on the shiny hardwood floor with every turn. His position on the raised platform where the mayor and town council sat ensured he’d see every single person who filed through those doors.

Something was wrong. Amara hadn’t come home from work, and she wasn’t answering her cell phone. Parker clenched his fists. If anyone had harmed a single hair on his
sotiei’s
head, theirs would roll.

A low voice softly chanted the
casuta,
and he realized he’d gone damn near feral. He took a deep breath and allowed the chant to soothe the beast within him.

“Parker, it’s time.”

Without opening his eyes, he asked Dragos the most important question of the night. “Is she here?”

“No.”

The low growl he emitted would have warned away a lesser being than Dragomir Ibanescu. Parker opened his eyes to find the audience staring at him, some hostile, some fearful, some merely curious as to who or what he might be.

Well. They were about to find out.

Parker took his seat next to Dragos and watched the silence that descended on the people of Maggie’s Grove. He hoped they were worried. He prayed they were scared. It might be the only way to save their lives.

A woman sitting on Dragos’s left rose on pointy stilettos. Parker wrinkled his nose. The woman smelled subtly wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He was willing to bet this was Kate, the witch Selena disliked so much.

“This emergency meeting is hereby called to order. Mayor Dragomir Ibanescu presiding.” Something about the way the woman spoke Dragos’s name confirmed this was, indeed, the mysterious Kate. “We have a few corrections to last month’s minutes. Do we agree to waive those until the standard meeting? All in favor say aye.”

The rafters shook at the unanimous sound. The man seated on Parker’s left made a note on his netbook. He had to be the town secretary, because he grinned, winked and showed Parker what he was working on.

Parker damn near swallowed his tongue trying not to laugh.
Bitch called meeting to order. Bitch called for vote, i.e., corrections. Town voted aye. Bitch sat down. Thank God and amen.

“She hasn’t sat yet,” Parker pointed out.

The man rolled his eyes and hit the delete key. “One can hope, can’t one?” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Dominic Davis. Pleased to meet you.”

“Parker Hollis.”

Dominic slowly smiled at him. “Aren’t you—” They were interrupted when Kate cleared her throat. “We have two new residents of Maggie’s Grove. Parker Hollis, vampire, and Gregory West, apparition, now reside at 213 Ghost Haven Lane. Please welcome them to the community.”

Most of the audience didn’t make a move. Some clapped, some waved. One or two turned away. Parker made note of them all. He wanted to attach names to those faces.

“What a warm, fuzzy town. Why did I tell you to move here again?”

“You had a vision.”

“Oh yeah. Next time I have a deathbed vision, ignore me. We’d get a warmer reception at the Vatican.”

Parker hid a grin behind his hand.

The woman opened her mouth to speak again, but Dragos stopped her by the simple expedient of standing. He waved her to her seat, and she took it, staring up at him with adoring eyes.

“There’s something fishy about that woman.”

Parker agreed. Something was off about the brunette, something that reminded him of Terri. He’d have to talk to Amara about it, after he spanked her ass for scaring the shit out of him.

“It is time to honor our dead.” Dragos’s eastern European accent had thickened, whether in sorrow or anger or both, Parker wasn’t sure. “Kenneth Madison, aged seventeen.” Parker winced. The kid really
had
been a kid. “Steven Wu, aged thirty-four.” The other victim of the exploding tree. One of the bits of shrapnel had gone through the back of the man’s head, severing his spinal cord and almost taking his head off. “I call for a moment of silence as we pray for our departed.”

All the heads in the hall bowed, including Parker’s. He felt somewhat responsible for bringing this evil to Maggie’s Grove, but he’d finally figured out Terri was the only one responsible for her actions. He had the feeling that, like most stalkers, if he
had
given in to her, anyone he cared about would be in danger, even if it was only in friendship.
That reminds me. I need to figure out a better way to protect Brian.
If anything happened to the Renfield, Greg would be inconsolable.

Who knew Greg would find the love of his life after death?

“Thank you.” Dragos didn’t speak loudly, but his voice echoed through the room, his vampiric powers ensuring he would be heard despite the lack of a microphone. “This meeting has been called to discuss the events at the farmers’ market yesterday evening that resulted in two deaths and countless injuries. The murderer
will
be caught. I promise you that.”

Way to keep the masses calm, Dragos.
Parker prepared himself for one hell of a fight. Most of these people believed Amara had killed Ken and Mr. Wu, and Parker had to convince them otherwise while the word
murderer
rang in their ears.

“We believe we know who the intended target of the attack was and who was responsible.” Gasps filled the room. “At this point I would like to hand the floor over to Dr. Parker Hollis, the man who truly understands what is happening to us.”

Parker stood, ignoring the mutters from the crowd. He held up his hands for silence, not surprised when he didn’t get it. He sent forth his will, used his powers to whisper in their ears. “Do you want to know what happened, or don’t you?”

The murmurs reluctantly died down.

“Good. As some of you may know, I labor under a curse. What you don’t know is this curse was bestowed upon me by an insane witch who believed that by changing both herself and my dietary needs, I would form the
singele sotiei
bond with her, thus taking her as my blood wife and feeding from no other. The bond is irresistible, unforgettable, similar to the mate bond weres experience.” The vampires in the crowd turned paler than normal, horrified by the perversion of a sacred bond. The shock on the faces of the nonvampires showed they understood exactly how serious Terri’s crime was. “I knew when I met my
sotiei
that she was the one, but Terri believed she could influence the bond by turning herself into what my
sotiei
calls a
weed
and changing me into a vampire who could only drink green, leafy blood.” Some of the vampires in the audience smirked, but Parker didn’t care. He’d lived with this curse for over fifty years. He doubted any of them would have done better. “I found myself unable to kill her, no matter how desperately I wished to. Something stayed my hand, and because of that, I humbly apologize.”

One vampire in the back spoke up. “If you felt she was your
sotiei,
why didn’t you claim her?”

“Because some part of me understood she
wasn’t.
She frightened me in ways I can’t possibly explain. The few times she caught up to me, I ran as fast and as far as I could, but Terri always seems to find me. And now I
have
found my
sotiei,
and I believe Terri is taking revenge.”

“Amara killed them by making that tree explode, not some fairy-tale wicked witch! Stop trying to protect her with lies!”

Several of the townsfolk shouted their agreement. He prayed it wasn’t one of the Madisons or Wus; that would break Amara’s heart. “No. Amara didn’t kill anyone. She’s a dryad, incapable of harming a tree. Terri is the one most likely to be responsible. She was a witch before she cursed us both, and that power resides within her. She would think nothing of taking a life to get to me. Indeed, she’s done it before.”

At that the shouting turned angry. “Silence.” Dragos’s voice whispered across the room, and his power flowed with it, staggering in its intensity. Silence fell, instantaneous and total. Parker could barely hear them breathing.

Parker had a hard time getting his voice to work. Damn, Dragos was
strong.
“Please, try to remember, I was incapable of harming Terri before I found my
sotiei.
My beast believed there was a connection between us and refused to allow me to kill her. It was fight or flight, and every time, I was forced to choose flight. If I had not found my
sotiei,
I would be fleeing right now.”

“Is it true? Is Amara your
sotiei?
”

He didn’t recognize the voice, but the features could only belong to one of Brian’s siblings, and he sounded like he was on Parker’s side. “Yes, Amara is my true
sotiei.
” Parker leaned on the table and growled, “Speaking of which, have any of you seen her?” He allowed enough of the beast out to remind them of the threat he’d made in the market before all hell had broken loose. He wondered if his announcement there was what had triggered Terri’s wrath. “By the way, now that I have her, my beast is no longer confused. I am free to kill anyone who threatens her.” He let that sink in before adding, almost as an afterthought, “Including Terri.” His eyes turned red, but he kept his voice mild, knowing the effect it would have. “Now. Where is my wife?”

No one answered. Their guilt was matched by their defiance. “I still think Amara did it,” one woman shouted. “How do we know you aren’t protecting your
sotiei?
Do you know what she truly is? She’s an abomination!”

Parker was nose to nose with the woman before anyone, even the other vampires in the room, could blink. The only one who might have been able to stop him had chosen not to. “I’m sorry.” His fangs were fully extended, the hunt burning red in his eyes, an open threat to the woman who’d dared malign his wife. She couldn’t run fast enough to escape him, and they both knew it, the knowledge obvious on her pale, suddenly sweating face. “Would you care to repeat that?”

“Parker.”

He stiffened in all the right places at the sound of that voice. “Amara.” He turned from his victim and grinned at his woman. “You’re late.”

She was filthy, tired, covered in leaves and had long scratches down her legs he was going to ask her about as soon as he got his hands on her. She wasn’t in the uniform he knew she’d left the house in, but jean shorts and a T-shirt that were both too big. Their scent matched one of the people standing with her.

What had happened to his wife in the forest?

“I was unavoidably detained.” She gestured behind her, and the rest of the people in the room began talking at once.

“Greer Berkeley.” Arms wide, Greer bowed, the gesture flamboyant. His gaze raked the townsfolk. His expression said he found them wanting, and his grin suggested he could have some fun with that. He had blond hair so light it was almost white, streaked with an orange that was barely visible. His eyes were pale brown.

“Mina Chainey.” The woman nodded but didn’t smile. She had hair as dark as the richest earth and eyes to match. She was roughly the same height as Selena, perhaps an inch or two taller.

He was beginning to think the dryads had a serious problem with the people of Maggie’s Grove.

“And last, Ashton Ward.”

Ashton’s stance was easy, but something about the way he held himself said he wasn’t a man to fuck with. His hair and eyes were so bright a green it rivaled the freshest grass of spring.

“These are three of the ruling dryads of Maggie’s Grove.”

Parker bowed, much less flamboyantly than Greer. “Parker Hollis, at your service.”

Mina Chainey beamed. “You’re the botanist who moved into town. The one who’s been working on The Greenhouse exhibit.” Parker nodded, and Mina’s shoulders relaxed. “Your work has been exceptional.” In fact, all three of the dryads relaxed, moving with that same easy grace he’d noticed in Amara.

“Thank you, but how do you know that?”

Greer laughed, the sound light as wind through leaves. “Because we
own
The Greenhouse.”

Oh dear. These were his bosses. Fancy that. Parker maneuvered around the townsfolk, careful not to hurt any of them. His claws were out, his beast raging, but he battled it back until he could meet Greer’s eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand and was glad Greer chose to accept it.

“And you. Amara has told us quite a bit about you.”

For the first time, Parker understood the term
meet the parents.
“Um. Yes.”

Ashton winked. “Call me Ash.”

Mina shook his hand last. “I was especially pleased with your display of endangered asters.”

“Thank you.” Amara settled in against his side, and he put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s been my pleasure to work on the display.” The last thing he wanted to do was give the impression his boss had worked him like ten horses to get it done on time.

“Indeed. Mollie Ferguson has told us what an asset you’ve been. She’s very pleased and has recommended we give you the curator position that opened up.”

She had?
And here he’d thought the woman wanted to see him slow-roasted. “Oh. Well. I’m delighted she’s happy.”

“You three never leave the forest, never take part in what happens in town. So why the fuck are you here, and why did you bring her? Is she here to turn herself in?”

Parker growled at the man pointing at Amara. The man stared back, seemingly unafraid, but Parker could scent his terror.
Brave. Foolish but brave.
He hissed at the man, pleased when he sat back down so hard he bounced. Parker turned back to the dryads, surprised to find them all grinning. “I’m sorry. If you have no interest in the town’s doings, why
are
you here?”

The three exchanged glances. It was Ash who spoke. “Because Amara needs us.”

“Amara is one of us.” Mina walked toward the council table, the two male dryads following closely behind.

Greer waved cheerfully. “Hello, Dragos. Missed us?”

Dragos shook his head at the blond dryad. “No.”

Greer laughed again. “Same old dragon. Grouchy as hell.”