Blood of the Maple

by Dana Marie Bell

  “Oh?” Terri backed up, but if she was frightened, she hid it well. Perhaps she still thought she had him over the proverbial barrel.

  Well, she’d just have to find out how adept Parker was at rolling that barrel. He’d crush her with it. “You pissed off the mayor.” The plant she’d wrapped him in began coiling once more around him.

  Terri froze, and so did the plant. “What?”

  “That would be me.” Dragos dropped to the ground, grabbed Terri’s head and twisted it clean off her shoulders. He tossed the head aside and stepped around the twitching corpse, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Phew. What the fuck is that smell?”

  The plant that had wrapped itself around Parker slowly slid to the ground, its branches turning brittle, its leaves drying up. “A bad plant.”

  Dragos’s brows rose. “Your tormentor, I presume?”

  “Yes. Thanks for the assist.”

  “No problem.” Dragos dusted off his hands. “In the words of your wife, that was one weed that needed pulling.”

  Parker chuckled. “Need a hand down there?”

  “It would be appreciated.” Dragos lifted off the ground. “Come on, Parker. Amara’s waiting.”

  Parker slid into the air, eager to see his mate and take a long, hot bath.

  Amara yelped as fire licked up the side of the building and nearly singed her bark.

  “Sorry.” Mollie Ferguson shot ball after ball of fire at the weeds surrounding The Greenhouse, but it was too little, too late. They’d already breached the windows, cracked the mortar between the bricks. If they couldn’t stop this soon The Greenhouse would suffer the same fate as the town hall.

  She grabbed another vine and began ripping it from the brick, trying not to wince as brick dust landed in her hair. “Terri, you bitch, get your ass out here and face me!” She growled when there was no answer.

  Amara had never been so frightened in her life. All over town plants had risen and attacked the people around them. Houses were on fire as elementals tried to stop the encroaching army of thorns and brambles. The earth trembled beneath her feet as the earth elementals tried desperately to hold on to roots, to prevent the weeds from moving forward. Air elementals whipped around in a frenzy, using their own powers to try and pull the plants from the ground, ripping them in two and shattering more than one car window in the process. The water elementals had taken the lesson learned at the town hall and drained the plants of water, killing them instantly.

  And it wasn’t enough. Maggie’s Grove was losing to a single insane witch who somehow held the power of the land itself in her fist.

  A firebolt singed Amara’s hair. “Weed,” Mollie panted, and that was all she needed to know.

  Mollie was ringed in fire. Her body had become a living blaze. Amara was impressed; she’d never seen her so angry before—or so human. She could almost like this Mollie.

  A root threatened to trip her up, but a werewolf who’d joined in the fight pounced, forcing it back into the ground. Amara turned her attention back to the battle at hand. She reached down deep, searching for a plant or tree that wasn’t under Terri’s control.

  There. A birch, not too far away, and another, this one an oak. Roses responded to her call, impatiens and daffodils waving their blossoms, ready to fight for their home.

  Amara linked to them and used them, but unless something happened soon it was a losing battle. Already the dryads of the town had begun to drop from exhaustion. She could sense them as they fell and prayed to the Goddess someone got them to safety.

  The roots of the great oak rose, smashing at Terri’s weeds with mighty blows. The birch swayed, slashing with its branches; the roses slithered along their trellises, using their thorns to cut vines from brick. The impatiens dug as deep as their shallow roots could, trying to block the moss that crept closer and closer. Even the grass tried to help, creating a thick blanket the moss couldn’t cross.

  Amara bellowed another challenge, wondering why the witch wasn’t responding. She had to be close by. No one was strong enough to do this from a distance.

  A weed slammed into her from behind, knocking her to the ground. Just as she saw Mollie readying one last fireball, every weed within her senses quivered. Excruciating pain slashed through her and Amara whimpered.

  “Amara? Are you all right?”

  All around them the weeds fell to the ground. Only dried husks, dead leaves and the fetid stench of mold remained.

  Amara whimpered again. “Ow.” Please let this mean what I think it does.

  Mollie fell on her ass beside her and draped her arms across her knees. She looked as tired as Amara felt. “Yeah. Ow.”

  She stared at the building covered in dead vines and wildly gyrating roses. Amara stifled a laugh as she watched them dance.

  “Could you do me a favor?” Mollie pushed her sweaty bangs out of her eyes with a shaking hand.

  “Hmm?”

  “The roses have started doing the Macarena, and it’s freaking me the fuck out. Could you make them stop?”

  He couldn’t wait to tell Amara that their problems were finally over. Ken was avenged, thanks to Dragos. He followed the other vampire down the mountain, feeling lighter than the air he flew through. He alighted not far from the farmers’ market. The plants there had indeed risen up against the townsfolk, but they were dry and brittle now, like the plant that had attacked him. The fire department was working on putting out the few fires that had started, and the police were keeping the people calm and in check. No looting would occur here. Everyone pitched in. It was going to be one hell of a cleanup job, but the people of Maggie’s Grove could handle it.

  “Parker!”

  He turned to find his Renfield jogging toward him, his expression relieved. “You all right, Bri?”

  “I’m fine.” The Renfield panted as he pulled even with Parker. “Greg let me know what was happening, and I called Dragos.”

  “Good call.” Parker stared at the damage done by Terri’s homegrown weeds. “Is Amara safe?”

  Brian nodded. “She’s helping out around The Greenhouse.”

  Parker winced. His endangered asters might not make it if The Greenhouse was damaged. “Damn.”

  “So. It’s finally over. How do you feel?”

  Parker shrugged. “Same as always.”

  “Really?” Brain looked startled. “I don’t look like a tasty midnight snack right about now?”

  Ew. Parker shuddered. “No, you don’t.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh?” Parker wagged his finger at Brian. “No uh-ohs. There should be yahoos or yippees, maybe even a yee-haw or two. No uh-ohs.” He slapped Brian’s shoulder. “Come on, man! It’s over. Ding-dong, the witch is dead and all that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A shiver of apprehension work its way up his spine. “Dragos ripped her head off and tossed it like a beach ball. That usually means dead, even in our world.”

  “But does it mean dead in Terri’s?”

  “What are you trying to say?” Please let him not be saying what I think he’s saying.

  “How do you kill a weed?”

  “You rip it out of the ground by its roots.” Parker’s gaze drifted back toward the mountains surrounding the town, and his blood ran cold. “You think taking her head wasn’t enough.”

  “You’re still under the curse, as near as I can tell.”

  “Or it could be my sotiei is a dryad, and my body is permanently adjusted to drink only from her.” Please let that be the answer.

  “True. But to be safe, we should check it out.”

  The vampire and the Renfield locked eyes. Parker didn’t want to think even for a second that Terri could be alive somehow, but… “Get Selena.”

  Brian pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Selena? We have a problem.”

  Parker barely heard Brian explaining why they needed her and where they were. If his heart could have pounded, it would have. Terri had to be dead. She had to be. Nothing c
ould survive having its head ripped off.

  Could it?

  “Excuse me. Are you Dr. Parker Hollis?”

  Parker whirled to face the speaker. His sunny blond hair was full of soot and his bright blue eyes were rimmed with red. He wore one of the town’s firefighter uniforms and was a full six inches taller than Parker.

  And he smelled of were.

  Parker snarled, his eyes burning, his claws unleashed. The wolves were not his favorite people right now. He had no intention of allowing them to think they could get away with attacking his wife without suffering the consequences, no matter what Amara said.

  The wolf threw his hands up. “Whoa! Hey. Down, boy. I’m not the one whose ass you want to kick, trust me.”

  Parker misted, turning invisible to all the were’s senses. He solidified behind him before he could react, one arm around the were’s throat, his fangs inches from the were’s jugular, an easy thing to do with someone taller when you could fly. “Give me one good reason why I should let you live.”

  The man swallowed. “Okay. I gather the rumors that you’ve taken Amara as your mate are true?” At Parker’s slight nod, the man’s frame went rigid. “I’m not the alpha. I didn’t order the hunt on your mate.”

  “But you participated. You went after her, you and your entire pack, and tried to kill her.”

  “We thought we were protecting the people of Maggie’s Grove, our young, our mates. We were wrong.” The man’s arms fell to his sides. He bared his throat, leaving himself at the mercy of Parker’s teeth. “If by my death we redress the wrong done your mate, so be it. But if you must avenge her further, I beg you leave our cubs be.”

  Parker closed his eyes. The anger was close to the surface, but damn it, the man had made a sacrifice of himself. He could have tried to hand Parker the name of the pack’s alpha, but instead he’d taken the blame on his own shoulders.

  If Amara had been killed or even badly wounded, Parker would have taken him up on his offer and considered it done. But she hadn’t been. She’d shown them mercy. Parker could do no less.

  Shit. And he couldn’t even say he had a yen for blood.

  But the wolves needed to learn Amara was his. “I’m not the one you owe a debt to.” He scratched the were’s neck hard enough to draw blood. “Your pack needs to apologize to Amara.”

  “I will speak with my alpha.”

  “You do that.”

  “And I’ll apologize for my part in it, whether he approves or not. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “The right thing would have been to not go after her in the first place.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Who is your alpha?” Because Parker had a strong desire to reach out and touch someone. Preferably with his fangs.

  “Noah Wulfenbach.”

  “Is he the one with the naiad mate?”

  The were shook his head. “He’s currently unmated. His brother, our beta, has the naiad mate.”

  He’d need to visit Noah Wulfenbach and have a nice chat with him. “Thank you.” He released the wolf, certain the man would bolt.

  He was wrong. The wolf turned and held out his hand. “Carter Hayes.” He stood there, waiting for Parker to make a move.

  Parker took a deep breath and pulled his beast back. Carter wasn’t the one he wanted to punish. He knew how wolf packs were supposed to work. The true apology had to come from the alpha, or it didn’t mean a thing. He shook Carter’s hand. “Hello, Carter. A pleasure to meet you.”

  Carter winced. “Yeah. I’m sure.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, his weariness bleeding through now that he wasn’t so tense. “Amara wanted you to know she’s heading home. The situation at The Greenhouse is pretty bad, but she’s done what she can. The rest is up to you and Mollie.”

  “I’d better head that way, then, see how bad it is.”

  “You might want to call Amara, let her know you’re all right and where you’re headed. She was worried when she realized you weren’t there.”

  “Thank you for passing her message along.” He hadn’t quite gotten over his problems with the wolves, but this wolf wasn’t so bad.

  “You’re welcome.” Carter strode away, rubbing at the mark Parker had left on his neck. Little did the were know that the mark wouldn’t fade until he’d paid his debt. Only when Parker was satisfied or the wolf died would the mark disappear, as if it had never been.

  Brian tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Selena’s on her way to The Greenhouse.”

  Parker shot Brian a grin. “I could get used to having a Renfield around.”

  Brian grinned back. “Good, because you’re stuck with me.”

  “Ah, but my month isn’t up yet.” Parker teased, knowing full well he had no intention of replacing Brian. Even if Brian had been a complete flop as a Renfield, he wouldn’t have broken Greg’s heart that way.

  Brian blew a raspberry at him.

  “Save that for Greg.”

  Brian rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I parked over here. I’ll take you to The Greenhouse, then check on Amara for you. The thing the wicked witch put inside her took a lot out of her, and the fight in town took a toll. She’s beat.”

  Beat? “She’s all right?”

  “Oh yeah. Just tired. I’ll cook her up a light meal when I get back, make sure she’s hydrated. She’ll be fine.”

  The Renfield was settling into his life nicely. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Brian slid behind the driver’s seat.

  “So. Have you completed the ritual?”

  Parker’s smile was wicked. “She’s mine.”

  “Then why ask me how she’s doing? You can tell how she’s doing by thinking about her.”

  Parker grinned. “You know, I’d forgotten all about that.” He focused his thoughts on Amara. His grin softened to a smile when he realized she was half-asleep, as Brian had said. “Sweet.”

  “Mmm. Parker.” She shifted on the sheets. “Where are you?”

  He didn’t know if she realized she was speaking to him or if she thought she was dreaming. “I’m heading to The Greenhouse. Someone named Carter told me you’d gone home. Are you all right?”

  “A bit singed, but otherwise fine. How are we talking?”

  “We’re bound together, sweet. I can see you.” He ran his finger across her lips and groaned when they parted. “I can feel you.”

  Her tongue darted out, trying to taste his phantom flesh. “Can you make love to me like this?”

  Parker’s cock jumped. He was grateful the Renfield was paying more attention to the road than the state of Parker’s jeans. “Oh hell yes, but not now. Brian’s driving, and I’d hate to embarrass myself that way. We’re meeting with Selena to see if my curse has been lifted.”

  “What happened? One minute we were fighting, and the next we weren’t. Everything pretty much died around us without our help.”

  “Dragos decided Terri would look better minus her head.” He didn’t tell her Brian’s theory that taking Terri’s head might not be enough to kill the bitch.

  “Did Dragos do anything else with the body?”

  Parker groaned. “Fuck. You think she’s alive too?”

  “Who else thinks so?”

  “Brian. It’s why he wants me to see Selena.”

  “Go. Tell me what happens when you get home. And, Parker? Be safe, okay?”

  Warmth spread through him at her concern. “I promise. Sleep well, sweet.”

  “Wake me when you get here.”

  He pressed a spectral kiss to her lips before pulling away, the awareness of where she was a low hum in the back of his mind. He’d keep it alive until he knew for certain Terri was gone for good.

  They pulled up outside The Greenhouse. Selena’s car was already in the lot, along with Mollie Ferguson’s. Parker got out and greeted the witchdoctor. “Selena. A pleasure.”

  “Parker.” She tilted her head, her markings flaring to life. “Yup. You’re cursed.”

 
“Shit.” Parker glared up at the mountain. “What is it going to take to kill that bitch?”

  “Fire.” Parker turned, stunned, to find a disheveled Mollie Ferguson behind him. She had on the tattiest pair of jeans he’d ever seen, a T-shirt that had more holes than cloth and sneakers a ten-year-old boy wouldn’t be caught dead in. Her hair was in a sloppy ponytail, and her glasses were askew.

  She’d never looked more human.

  “Fire?”

  Mollie nodded. “The only way to truly kill a weed is to rip it out by the roots or burn it.” Fire flickered along her skin, and Parker danced back, his instincts driving him away from the threat. Something in her eyes scared him, a burning flame that could burst at any moment. “Bring her here. I’ll be more than happy to take care of her for you.”

  Selena took one step to the left, widening the gap between her and Mollie. “Yes. Well. Here’s hoping she takes the hint and leaves town.”

  “Right. She’s going to leave without me? I don’t think so.” Parker sighed. The Greenhouse’s walls were covered in dead vines. More than one window was broken. Scorch marks dotted the brick-and-mortar structure. He could already tell the damage was widespread and would be expensive to repair. “We’re so fucked.”

  There was a sneeze and a whoosh. Parker glanced over at Mollie, who was batting at a cinder on Brian’s jacket. “Sorry.”

  “No harm done.” Brian pointed her toward her car. “You must be exhausted. Let’s face it. Parker’s a night owl. Let him deal with some of this.”

  Mollie’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. There isn’t much more I can do here.” Her expression pleading, she straightened wearily. “Please, Dr. Hollis. Make this right.”

  “I will.” And he meant that in more ways than one.

  Brian helped the exhausted woman to her car, and they watched her drive off.

  Parker stepped into The Greenhouse and groaned. The inside was much worse. He would be cleaning up this mess for days. He hoped Amara slept well without him.

  “It is time to lip-synch…for your life!”

  Amara shoved some popcorn into her mouth, unable to tear her eyes away from the fabulous not-women on the screen. Glinda had never let her watch anything like this. She was absolutely fascinated. And where did they get those gowns? And the heels? They were to die for! “Are you sure they’re men?”