A nearby tree exploded into a billion shards, piercing the night with stinging, lethal projectiles. Parker hit the dirt, shielding Jason with his body. Screams erupted around him, cries of pain mingling with the thwapthwapthwap sounds as the rapidly moving shrapnel hit the buildings, cars…and people.
When it was over, the silence was deafening. Parker lifted himself off Jason and took in the situation.
People were on the ground, most bleeding, several crying. Two weren’t moving, including Ken, the ice-cream parlor boy who’d been so sweet to Amara.
“Fuck.” He glanced over at the terrified were. “You all right?”
Jason nodded. That was all he needed to hear. He dashed over to the fallen boy and rolled him over. “Ken!”
Blood trickled from a wound in the boy’s chest. He’d been pierced through the heart, killed instantly. Not even the Kiss could save him. He was already gone. Parker bowed his head. Terri was responsible for this, and it was only the beginning. He gritted his teeth and prayed he found her before she hurt anyone else.
“Parker.”
He lifted his head to find Dragos standing over him, grief-stricken as he stared down at the dead young man. “Terri did this. I know it.”
“We need to convince them of that.” Dragos gestured toward the townspeople who were slowly rising to their feet. “Because of your argument with Jason, they’re going to blame Amara, even though she wasn’t here.”
Oh hell to the no. Amara had suffered enough grief from these people; they needed to learn the truth before they hurt her any further. “We need to hold a town meeting, let everyone know who Terri is. If she’s capable of this, she’s capable of anything.” They needed to know Ken had died because of Parker’s inability to kill Terri. Once she’d only targeted the women he cared for; her attack on an entire community made no sense.
Sense or no, this time she’d gone too far. It was time to remember that he might be cursed to drink green, leafy blood, but when it came down to it? He was a vampire.
It was time to go hunting the hunter.
Amara lifted the receiver on the third ring. “Hello?”
“You killed my boy.”
“What?” Why would Scott Madison say something so vile?
“My boy is dead, Amara. Dead. And you killed him.” His grief pounded at her.
It couldn’t be true. Ken couldn’t be dead. “I’ve been home all day. You can ask Brian. He’s been here with me.”
Brian entered the room at that moment and sent her a questioning look. Amara gestured for him to pick up the extension.
“Then how did you do it?”
“Do what? Scott, I swear to you I haven’t been out today.” She heard a click; Brian had picked up the phone. “What’s going on?”
“Ken is dead. Your…lover attacked Jason near the farmers’ market, and a tree exploded right behind him. One of the splinters killed my boy.”
Amara sank to the ground. Parker had attacked Jason? Ken was dead? “Dear Goddess.”
“Why, Amara? Why?”
“I didn’t do this, but I know who did.”
“Who?” Scott sounded almost feral.
“Terri. The woman who cursed Parker.”
“Why would she kill my boy?”
She whimpered. Dear Goddess, was this what he truly thought of her? “Why would I? I loved Ken, Scott. You know that.” Hell, Amara loved all the Madisons, and she’d thought they cared for her too. That feeling would never be the same now that Scott had accused her of killing Ken. Her heart ripped in two with loss and betrayal.
“You’re the only person capable of doing what happened in the market earlier. And I will never forgive you for it.”
But how could he not know that she was, above all else, a dryad? “I would never kill a tree. And I would never have hurt Ken.” She was sobbing now, barely coherent. She hung up the phone, but it was useless. There was no point in trying to convince the town she wasn’t a danger to them. She’d never harm a hair on their stupid fucking heads.
But it was time to find that fucking weed and pull her. Permanently.
Parker was damn near incoherent with rage. He’d come home to find Amara inconsolable and Brian weeping. Scott Madison had called Amara and blamed her for the deaths before he’d even left the market. It had taken him half the night to get Amara to sleep. The only reason he wasn’t out hunting the man who’d hurt her so badly was because he understood the man’s grief had been talking, not his sense. And Parker knew that when Scott came to understand the damage he’d done to an innocent woman, he’d be doubly grieved. But he found it hard to forgive and knew Amara would never forget. If it weren’t for her tree, he’d take her from this place and move her to where she could live in peace.
But even if he could somehow move her tree, she’d never leave. She loved this place, the house she’d grown up in, the town, even the brainless residents who should have known better. Amara would wither and die if he uprooted her.
No. He’d have to find some other way to convince the town that Amara, his sweet, gentle dryad, would never kill an innocent.
He paced back downstairs to find Brian sound asleep on the ugly camelback couch, his head resting on his arms. The tracks of his tears were visible, the scent of saltwater strong. The Renfield grieved not only for the two lost lives, but for Amara as well.
“Shhh. It took me a while, but he’s finally out. How’s Amara?”
Parker tiptoed past Brian and into the kitchen. “Pretty much the same as Bri. How could someone believe her capable of something like this? Why didn’t they look for another explanation?”
“It’s easy to blame the first target you come to, especially when you think you know what they’re capable of. People who are grieving do the strangest things. She’s different. And unless you can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, people will believe Amara did it. Hell, even if you manage to find sufficient proof, there will still be people who think Amara got away with murder.”
Parker fought the growl rising in his throat. “I’ve been too damn passive about all of this. Why have I been so convinced that killing Terri would be wrong?”
“She’s killed before. I told you we should have done something about her, but you kept running away.”
Parker nodded. “I should have.” And because he hadn’t, more people had died and his sotiei might never recover. “I couldn’t bring myself to kill her. I’m not sure why.”
“Maybe the curse had something to do with it.”
“Like what?”
“The curse was designed to change your feeding habits, to make you crave only Terri, right? What if she didn’t know dryads existed and thought she was the only one you’d be able to feed from?”
“We’ve been over this before, Greg.”
“Bear with me.”
Parker moved over to the kitchen table and settled down wearily. He waved for Greg to continue.
“She knew what you were. What if she knew about singele sotiei? What if she was trying to mimic that? It’s possible your inability to kill her before was because the curse was messing with your senses, telling you she was your sotiei.”