If some of the townsfolk approached Amara warily, they had good reason. She was amazing, powerful and beautiful and deadly beyond compare. And she was all his.
And much to Greg’s utter disgust, he wasn’t getting tired of saying it. His his his. He grinned like a kid with a fistful of free candy.
His.
He had to resist the urge to pinch himself. The time of terror was over. No longer would Terri haunt him, in or out of his nightmares. The witch was dead, her ashes scattered, the lingering traces of her wiped away from the Throne through fire and magic. Mina, weakened but whole, had been returned to her tree by Dragos, who refused to discuss what had occurred between them. Apparently things hadn’t gone quite the way Dragos had planned, because the mayor had been growling and sullen for weeks.
At least Kate was conspicuous in her absence. The whispers of relief when she hadn’t appeared on Dragos’s arm at the start of the party had been proof positive no one, not even the other witches, liked Kate. They liked her even less when she was with Dragos.
Ash stalked by Parker’s hiding spot, arguing fiercely with Selena. She was shaking her head, denying him a dance, and Ash was getting more and more agitated. He figured at some point Ash would lift the woman onto his shoulder and haul her onto the dance floor.
He wondered what Selena would do if he dared.
“Mr. Hollis.”
Parker, brave predator that he was, let out a squawk. How had she sneaked up on him? Now he had an idea of how Amara felt. “Mollie.” He answered her slow smile. “It’s good to see you looking well again. You had us all worried.”
She grimaced. “Sorry about that. When I use that level of control, it tires me out more easily. I didn’t even realize how low my flames had gone until I woke up in front of a fire, covered in about fifteen thousand furs with a shaking dryad trying to spoon hot soup into me.”
Parker laughed. The image in his head was just too rich. He’d have to rib Greer over it later.
“Don’t you dare laugh. He spilled it all over me.”
That only made him laugh harder.
“Try explaining second-degree burns all over your breasts to the emergency-room physician while Greer knocks everything over in an attempt to help.” She rolled her eyes. “It was the worst trip I’ve ever taken. And I had to do it naked because he lost my clothes. Hmph. And that doctor was cute too.”
Parker laughed so hard he began wheezing. She blew a curl off her forehead. “Well. Back to work Monday?”
He nodded, still laughing as Carter Hayes appeared. “What’s so funny?”
Mollie batted her eyes at the were. “Hi, Carter.”
“Hey, Mollie. You look lovely. Care to dance?”
“I’d love to. I’ll see you later, Mr. Hollis.”
“At this point I think you can call me Parker.”
She grinned, not a trace left of the uptight, nervous woman he’d first started working for. “Thanks.”
“Later, Mollie.”
Parker watched as the two went hand in hand to the dance floor. Greer, watching them, smirked. What…?
“OW!” Carter was scrambling at something in his lapel. “What the fuck?” He pulled the boutonniere off and glared at the huge, bloody thorn. “How the hell did that happen?” His gaze darted to the pale-haired dryad waltzing with Amara and trying not to laugh. “Greer,” he snarled. The boutonniere went sailing right into the back of Greer’s head.
Mollie was trying to soothe the werewolf, but it wasn’t working.
“What?” The dryad waltzed Amara closer to the other couple. “Did I hear my name?”
Greer stumbled, landing right against Carter. Carter howled again and began hopping, his foot in his hand.
“Sorry, sorry. Here, let me help you…”
Parker stopped watching. Greer was a fucking Fred Astaire in Amara’s arms. But he turned his so-called klutzy ways into a weapon to annoy anyone he didn’t like, and he really didn’t like Carter.
Carter would hurt a lot more before the night was over. He bit his lip and contemplated removing Amara from the mix, but when she “accidentally” ripped Carter’s pants off, he turned away before his laughter got the better of him.
“Hey, Parker.”
“Hi, boss. Having a good time?” Brian huffed out a surprised laugh. “Where are Carter’s pants?”
“Last I saw somewhere around his ankles. And yes, I’m having a marvelous time. You?”
Brian’s arm was around Greg’s waist. It was odd, but Parker was becoming used to it. He even thought he saw a shimmer of mist where his friend stood, which was an improvement. Selena had said that given enough time, he’d be able to see Greg once in a while as a fully formed apparition. Time Parker was more than happy to spend with the ghost. “We just got off the dance floor. Who knew Greer could move like that?”
“Who indeed.”
Mollie stormed past Parker, her cheeks bright red and her eyes flashing angrily. It was all he could do not to laugh in her face.
Brian snickered into his fist. “Something tells me Greer isn’t happy with her choice of dance partner.”
“You think?”
Brian looked toward Greg and took a deep breath. “We wanted to talk to you about something.”
Brian’s tone was serious and more than a little nervous. “You can tell me anything but who likes what done to them. That I really don’t want to know. I also don’t want to know why I sat at my kitchen table and had to remove a bottle of lube from my fruit bowl.” He sniffed. “One I hadn’t put there, mind you.”
“Homophobe.”
“Perv.”
Brian shook his head. He was becoming used to his unusual new family, and Parker couldn’t be happier about it. “Greg and I want to get married.”
Parker blinked. “Is that legal in Maryland?”
“Dude. I’m pretty sure necrophilia is illegal in all fifty-two states.”
If he could have blushed, he would have. “I meant male-male marriage. Pillock.”
“I’m dead. Legal has nothing to do with it.”
“We want to share our love, and no perv jokes, okay?” Brian looked nervous. “I guess we want your permission. You’re the closest thing to family Greg has. It would mean a lot to both of us to know you approved.”
Parker choked, touched that they’d ask him. “You don’t need my permission, but you have my blessing.” He shook his finger at Greg’s amorphous form. Was it Maggie’s Grove that had lent him that extra bit of strength, or was it the ghost’s bond to his lover? “I’d damn well better be your best man.”
“Wouldn’t want anyone else.”
Parker hugged Brian. “Congratulations, Greg.” He gave Brian his best sad face. “My condolences. Now you’ll be stuck with him forever. Almost like a hemorrhoid.”
“Don’t make me tell the Great Cactus Story of ’69.”
Brian was about to burst into laughter at any moment. “Do I want to know?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Parker glared at where he assumed Greg was. “I will so dump your ashes in the Atlantic and make you late for your own wedding.” He turned back to Brian. “Seriously. Where do you want to hold the ceremony, and who do you want to officiate?”
Brian’s shy look was bloody endearing. “We haven’t worked out all of the details yet. He asked me last night.”
“Oh. That explains all the moaning and thumping.”
Brian was horrified. “You heard that?”
Parker hadn’t heard a thing. He’d been too busy making love to Amara. A monkey could have been banging on his head with a coconut and he wouldn’t have cared. “Oh yes. It sounded like you had quite the time.”