“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.”

“Then I met Amara and was no longer blinded?” It was possible. His strange aversion to hurting Terri had faded since meeting the dryad. “You may be on to something.”

“I think so. Brian’s been explaining the whole sotiei thing to me, and I’m beginning to understand exactly what that means to a vampire. She’s your everything, and with Terri messing with your senses—”

“My beast wouldn’t allow me to hurt her.” Parker tried to smile, but it wasn’t his best effort. “We need to straighten this out. Terri could decide at any moment to attack again, and the town will blame Amara.”

“They’ll come after her with torches and pitchforks. Or in her case, axes and chainsaws.”

Parker shuddered at the thought of anyone attacking Amara’s tree. Brian had told him a few things too, like kill the tree, kill the dryad.

“And they’d be defenseless against Terri.”

“Because they’d be preparing for a dryad, not a psycho witch with green-living issues.” Parker rubbed his eyes. “I have to go hunting.”

“Not alone, you don’t.”

Parker shook his head. “I won’t risk anyone else. Especially Brian or Amara.”

“Then ask that freaky-ass mayor to help.”

“Not sure if he can. He’s dealing with the fallout from the explosion today. Besides, he doesn’t know Terri’s scent.”

“Tell him to think rancid vegetables and putrefied roadkill.”

Parker snorted. “I’ll be back before sunrise.”

“You’d better. I don’t want to have to explain to those two that the wicked bitch got hold of you.”

Parker headed for the back door. “I’d tell you to lock up after me, but I know you can’t.”

“For this I’ll put forth the effort.” Moving physical objects was tiring for Greg, but he would do it to keep their lovers safe. “Be careful, Parker.”

Parker paused. He didn’t know if Terri could harm Greg. “You too.” He shut the door and stared up into the night sky. He smiled faintly when the lock snicked behind him.

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?”