Blood of the Maple (9 page)

She carted Parker to her room, hoping her scent would soothe him if he woke up, then headed back downstairs and picked up the phone. She didn’t bother to dial. She didn’t have to. “Dragomir Ibanescu.”

The click of the phone being answered was faint. “Yes, Amara?”

“I have a vegetarian vampire in my bed who’s had a conversation with my tree.”

There was a pause. Then again, whenever Amara called Dragos he paused to process whatever she was telling him. It had long ago ceased to bother her, but she did wonder sometimes why her calls were so unusual. After all, she wasn’t the strangest person he knew, not by a long shot. “And?”

“He’s unconscious.”

“Ah. You are worried he is injured?”

Dragos’s faint accent never failed to send a shiver down her spine. Was that why Parker’s accent was so irresistible? Maybe she had a thing for tall, dark, exotic men with lovely accents. “I don’t know how long he’ll be out or how to keep him safe from the sun.”

“And where is his Renfield?”

“Uhhh—” she coughed, “—busy. Very busy.”

Again one of Dragos’s infamous pauses filled the air. “I see.” He was amused. “Make sure the room you put him in gets little sunlight. Unlike the movies, he won’t combust to ash at the merest touch of Helios’s rays, but he will be very uncomfortable if left in direct sunlight.” The amusement turned to gentle teasing when he added, “He is a plant that requires shade. Too much time in the sun will burn him to a crisp.”

She blew the mayor of Maggie’s Grove the wettest raspberry she could.

“You’re welcome.” The connection cut off, but not before Dragos laughed.

Really. People thought the elder vamp was cold and unfeeling. Amara knew better. Dragos was a friend. Hell, her tree liked him, and that was good enough for her.

Amara dialed Parker’s employer. Now, this was a conversation she was
not
looking forward to.

“The Greenhouse, Miss Ferguson speaking.”

“Mollie? It’s Amara.”

“Oh. Hello, Amara. Is there a problem?” Mollie’s tone instantly chilled.

“I introduced Parker to my tree, and now he’s unconscious. Was he supposed to work tonight?”

“Yes, he was.” The chill turned to concern. “Does he need a doctor?”

Amara held back her sigh. “No. He’s physically uninjured.”

“Does he need the witchdoctor, then?”

She gritted her teeth and kept her tone polite. “My tree wouldn’t hurt him that way.”

“Amara. I’m sorry, but you are what you are. Should you call Selena?”

“No.”

This time the pause was uncomfortable. She’d much rather talk to Dragos any day. “Tell him to call me when he can return to work.” The chill was back.

“I’ll do that.” Amara hung up without any further words. None were needed. That chore taken care of, she ran a circuit of both her garden and Parker’s. “No weeds. Good.” She dusted her hands off and knocked on Parker’s front door, praying Brian and Greg were finished with whatever they’d been doing, because she really didn’t need to see it again.

The front door opened. Brian, disheveled and happy, had a huge red mark on his neck. “How did you get a love bite?”

He blushed almost as fiery red as the leaves of her tree. “Hello to you too. Where’s Parker?”

“My place. I introduced him to my tree.”

Brian winced. “Oh. He’s out, huh?”

She frowned. “Did you expect that?”

“I bet fifty-fifty odds that he’d go down, yeah. Greg owes me—uh. Never mind.” He rubbed at the hickey. “Did your tree like him?”

“Yes, she did.”

He grinned. “Then I expect I’ll see some love bites on
your
neck soon.”

Amara covered her lip.

“Ooooh. Did he get a taste?” Brian turned his head, looking at something she couldn’t see. His face softened; his smile gentled. “Yeah, Greg. I’ll ask.” He turned back to her. “Can Greg go check on Parker? He’s worried about him.”

“Of course. He’s in my room. Does Greg need help finding him?”

He tilted his head, listening. “Nope. He has some sort of spiritual connection to Parker, so he knows where he is. He’s just being polite.” Brian’s eyes widened. “You
didn’t.
You did? Holy crap, Greg! No wonder he calls you his Casper!” And he began to laugh, writhing around like he was having fits. “Stop! Please stop! Uncle!”

“Was he
tickling you?
”

Brian nodded and wiped his eyes. “Yes, he was. He cast a spell so that when he was reborn, he and Parker would always be able find each other. But he forgot a deathbed spell is much stronger than a usual one, and instead of being reborn—”

“He came back as Parker’s Casper.” Amara grinned. “Something you’re reaping the benefits of?”

Brian caressed his hickey once more. “Yeah.” His hips jerked forward, a startled look crossing his face. “Would you mind very much if I came over too?”

“Sure, not a problem.” Amara stepped aside to let Brian, and presumably Greg, out the door and to her house. “I’m getting my exercise tonight and I haven’t left the same fifty yards.”

“Now you know how a gerbil feels. All you need is a wheel and some—No, wait, we have the wood chips.” He pointed toward the mulch in one of the flower beds.

Amara stared up at him, wondering if the stress had finally gotten to him.

Brian shrugged. “What?”

She led him into her house and to her room. “You’re weird.”

“And you’re not?”

She opened the door, happy to see Parker was sleeping peacefully. “Of course I am. That’s why I fit in so well here.”

Brian winced and stroked her arm in apology. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah. I know.” She patted his cheek to let him know his apology was accepted.

The low, inhuman growl that came from the bed startled them both. Amara turned to face a drastically altered Parker. His fangs had dropped; his mouth was lifted in a dangerous snarl. Parker was motionless, his red eyes glued to the man Amara had so innocently touched.

What the hell?

Amara took a step toward Parker and held out her hand. “What’s wrong?”

She was yanked forward so quickly she had no time to react. Parker jerked her beneath him, his clawed hand around her neck. He growled at Brian, but his thumb caressed Amara’s neck just below her pulse.

Was Parker
protecting
her?

She dug her fingers into his arm. “Parker? It’s all right. Brian’s a friend.” She glanced at Brian and gasped. The Renfield knelt on the floor, with his head back and his eyes closed, baring his neck. He muttered ancient words that soothed Parker. She could feel the tension leaving Parker’s body as the vampire accepted the Renfield’s submissive display.

Or so she thought.

When Parker moved closer, she assumed it was all over, until she saw that his eyes were still glowing red, still focused on the Renfield.

His fangs pierced her neck before she could blink.

Amara’s whole body bowed. White-hot pain shrieked through her, followed so quickly by mind-searing pleasure so intense, she never wanted it to end. Long pulls at her neck pulsed through her, like hands intimately caressing every part of her body. She wrapped her legs around Parker, desperate to get closer, to climb into him the way she did her tree and meld them together until she didn’t know where she ended and he began.

In the background Brian continued his chant, but she didn’t care about Brian or Greg or anything but the pleasure rolling through her. She grabbed Parker’s head and held him in place, offering herself up to him, letting him take his fill. Whatever he needed, whenever he needed, if she could provide, she would so long as he
didn’t stop.
She was on the edge of orgasm, so close she could taste it. She needed something to push her over into ecstasy. The door shut with a quiet click, giving her and Parker privacy.

Claws ripped through her jeans, scratching long lines down her legs. She noticed his jeans were off when she reached down to clasp his ass and touched firm, bare flesh. Parker buried himself inside her in one powerful thrust, and Amara shrieked, coming so hard the room went dark.

“More.” The gravelly voice was barely recognizable as Parker’s, the red glow of his eyes barely dimmed by the feeding and the fucking. Not that Amara was complaining. The feel of Parker inside her was insane, incredible. Warm and hard and so deep she could practically taste him.

“More,” she agreed, pulling him even closer. She thrust up against him, uncaring that her strength might be more than he could handle.

It turned out it wasn’t. He smiled at her, his teeth stained with her blood, his eyes bright as he pounded into her so hard the bed almost danced across the floor. A mortal woman would have been bruised, possibly injured. Even another dryad would have had trouble taking the force of Parker’s thrusts.

Thank the Goddess she wasn’t normal, because she was loving every minute of Parker’s fucking. She gave as good as she got, arching against him, tugging at him, tearing his shirt from his back so she could feel the muscles flex and bunch under her palms. “Fuck me, Parker. Harder.”

That low, menacing growl was aimed at her, but she wasn’t afraid. He was giving everything he was to her and she reveled in the gift.

Amara was enthralled. This was someone whose strength was a match for hers, whose fear wouldn’t hold him back.

This was a mate
worthy
of her.

Her orgasm built again, ripping through her. She barely had time to take breath before she was robbed of it, every muscle in her body clenching with the force of her pleasure. This time she dragged him along with her, pulling his orgasm from him in a rippling tide that left them damp, limp and sated to their toes. He collapsed on top of her and buried his head in the pillow beside her neck, caressing her damp skin.

When Parker finally lifted his head, his gaze was back to warm brown. “Fuck.”

“Mm-hmm.” Amara pressed a kiss to Parker’s sweaty neck, damn near purring in sleepy satisfaction.

“Did I hurt you?”

Something in Parker’s tone disturbed the humming pleasure throbbing through her. “No.”

“Good.” He was so relieved she had to wonder if he’d ever accidentally hurt anyone during sex, but that didn’t seem like the Parker she knew.

“I’m fine. Hell, I’m better than fine. You blew my mind.” She pushed his hair back from his damp forehead and grinned when he licked the twin pinpricks on her neck. “Thank you.”

He snorted. “You’re thanking me? For what?”

“You’ll see.”

He huffed a laugh. “That doesn’t sound ominous, does it?”

She pinched his side, delighted when his laugh deepened. “What was that all about, anyway?”

“Oh Lord. Brian—did I hurt him?”

She shook her head. “He’s fine. He did some freaky chanting thing, and your attention turned toward me.”

He froze. “I was that far gone?”

Okay, this was getting weird, even for her. “Care to explain?”

The look he gave her would have been scary if his cock weren’t buried, hard as a rock despite the mind-blowing orgasm, inside her. “Weres aren’t the only supernaturals with a beast inside them.”

“And?”

“He didn’t like you and Brian touching.”

It only took her a moment to figure out what had brought out his beast. “You felt possessive of me.” He nodded and pulled out and away, his expression closed off.

He thinks I’m going to reject him.
Little did he know, she planned to get some strong, thick chains and tie his ass to the bed until she could experience his brand of loving again. “Brian is a friend and, more important, your Renfield. He thought he’d hurt my feelings, and was apologizing. I was accepting the apology.”

“And can you accept mine?”

“You didn’t hurt me.” She stroked his cheek. “Far from it.”

“I acted like a caveman.”

“You acted the way your nature dictates. If I got angry with the robin for singing, what good would it do?”

He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “I’m more than my beast. I should have had better control than that.”

“Were you fully awake when you saw us?”

He grimaced, thoroughly frustrated and disgusted with himself. “No.” Not at all the look she wanted to see right after he’d made love to her.

“Well then. The beast took over and protected me from a perceived rival.” She shrugged. “You didn’t hurt Brian. You didn’t hurt me. Hell, I loved what we did. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Are you sure?”

She stared up at him. “Other than I think you should apologize to Brian for scaring the bejesus out of him for nothing? Yeah, I’m sure.” She tugged on his arm as hard as she could, enchanted when bones didn’t snap.
He really is my match.
“Can we go again?”

He blinked. “Again?”

“Yes.” She frowned when she realized his cock had gone flaccid. “Again.” Hmm. What could she do to make it nice and hard? She bit her lip and took a firm hold. She rubbed her thumb over the flared head, pleased when he growled his pleasure.
Oh. There we go.
He warmed up for her nicely, twitching and growing beneath her palm.

The first glimmer of humor appeared on his face, and Amara relaxed. “I think I can have another go at it.”

“Good.” Amara continued to stroke him until he was as hard as the first time. “Because I’m planning on this time being even better.”

He gulped. “Better?”

“Mm-hmm.” She flipped him onto his back and straddled him. “It’s my turn now, cowboy.”

“Yee-haw.” He grabbed her hips, steadying her. “Saddle up, pardnur.”

She giggled. It didn’t sound right with his upper-class English accent.

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes.”

“Hmph.” An evil grin crossed his face as he wiggled his fingers at her. “Guess I’ll have to do something about that.” And Parker proved once more that he was strong enough for her. The last guy who’d tickled her had wound up in the hospital with a broken hand. Parker wrestled her down and dug in. He ignored her squeals. He stopped most of her kicks. He proved he was much faster than she was, blocking her hands in an eyeblink before returning to her sides.

“Stop!” She was reduced to breathless begging, laughing so hard she could barely speak.