They weren’t the ones who needed killing. Maybe someday they’d understand that neither was she.

Soon only the alpha and beta of the pack remained. Both were tired, but so was Amara. It had taken a great deal of her energy to fight off the entire pack, and she’d need to commune with her tree to recoup a lot of it.

The alpha, sensing the weakness in her defenses, leaped. Amara had no time to react.

A root wrapped around the alpha’s throat, effectively collaring him, chaining him to the forest floor. Amara reeled back, stunned.

How? She hadn’t done that.

The beta, sensing his pack was defeated, howled in rage but bared his throat, submissive before the victor. But a swaying tree picked the beta up and curled its branches around him, dangling him above Amara’s head.

The pack was beaten. She’d won.

Sort of.

“Sister.”

Amara slowly turned, stunned to see the true dryads of Maggie’s Grove fanned out behind her. The rulers of the forest had finally come forth from the Throne to pass judgment on her.

Amara bowed and hoped Parker would understand. She had the feeling she was going to be late for dinner.

Parker paced the length of the town hall’s meeting room. His shoes squeaked on the shiny hardwood floor with every turn. His position on the raised platform where the mayor and town council sat ensured he’d see every single person who filed through those doors.

Something was wrong. Amara hadn’t come home from work, and she wasn’t answering her cell phone. Parker clenched his fists. If anyone had harmed a single hair on his sotiei’s head, theirs would roll.

A low voice softly chanted the casuta, and he realized he’d gone damn near feral. He took a deep breath and allowed the chant to soothe the beast within him.

“Parker, it’s time.”

Without opening his eyes, he asked Dragos the most important question of the night. “Is she here?”

“No.”

The low growl he emitted would have warned away a lesser being than Dragomir Ibanescu. Parker opened his eyes to find the audience staring at him, some hostile, some fearful, some merely curious as to who or what he might be.

Well. They were about to find out.

Parker took his seat next to Dragos and watched the silence that descended on the people of Maggie’s Grove. He hoped they were worried. He prayed they were scared. It might be the only way to save their lives.

A woman sitting on Dragos’s left rose on pointy stilettos. Parker wrinkled his nose. The woman smelled subtly wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He was willing to bet this was Kate, the witch Selena disliked so much.

“This emergency meeting is hereby called to order. Mayor Dragomir Ibanescu presiding.” Something about the way the woman spoke Dragos’s name confirmed this was, indeed, the mysterious Kate. “We have a few corrections to last month’s minutes. Do we agree to waive those until the standard meeting? All in favor say aye.”

The rafters shook at the unanimous sound. The man seated on Parker’s left made a note on his netbook. He had to be the town secretary, because he grinned, winked and showed Parker what he was working on.

Parker damn near swallowed his tongue trying not to laugh. Bitch called meeting to order. Bitch called for vote, i.e., corrections. Town voted aye. Bitch sat down. Thank God and amen.

“She hasn’t sat yet,” Parker pointed out.

The man rolled his eyes and hit the delete key. “One can hope, can’t one?” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Dominic Davis. Pleased to meet you.”

“Parker Hollis.”

Dominic slowly smiled at him. “Aren’t you—” They were interrupted when Kate cleared her throat. “We have two new residents of Maggie’s Grove. Parker Hollis, vampire, and Gregory West, apparition, now reside at 213 Ghost Haven Lane. Please welcome them to the community.”

Most of the audience didn’t make a move. Some clapped, some waved. One or two turned away. Parker made note of them all. He wanted to attach names to those faces.

“What a warm, fuzzy town. Why did I tell you to move here again?”

“You had a vision.”

“Oh yeah. Next time I have a deathbed vision, ignore me. We’d get a warmer reception at the Vatican.”

Parker hid a grin behind his hand.

The woman opened her mouth to speak again, but Dragos stopped her by the simple expedient of standing. He waved her to her seat, and she took it, staring up at him with adoring eyes.

“There’s something fishy about that woman.”

Parker agreed. Something was off about the brunette, something that reminded him of Terri. He’d have to talk to Amara about it, after he spanked her ass for scaring the shit out of him.

“It is time to honor our dead.” Dragos’s eastern European accent had thickened, whether in sorrow or anger or both, Parker wasn’t sure. “Kenneth Madison, aged seventeen.” Parker winced. The kid really had been a kid. “Steven Wu, aged thirty-four.” The other victim of the exploding tree. One of the bits of shrapnel had gone through the back of the man’s head, severing his spinal cord and almost taking his head off. “I call for a moment of silence as we pray for our departed.”

All the heads in the hall bowed, including Parker’s. He felt somewhat responsible for bringing this evil to Maggie’s Grove, but he’d finally figured out Terri was the only one responsible for her actions. He had the feeling that, like most stalkers, if he had given in to her, anyone he cared about would be in danger, even if it was only in friendship. That reminds me. I need to figure out a better way to protect Brian. If anything happened to the Renfield, Greg would be inconsolable.

Who knew Greg would find the love of his life after death?

“Thank you.” Dragos didn’t speak loudly, but his voice echoed through the room, his vampiric powers ensuring he would be heard despite the lack of a microphone. “This meeting has been called to discuss the events at the farmers’ market yesterday evening that resulted in two deaths and countless injuries. The murderer will be caught. I promise you that.”

Way to keep the masses calm, Dragos. Parker prepared himself for one hell of a fight. Most of these people believed Amara had killed Ken and Mr. Wu, and Parker had to convince them otherwise while the word murderer rang in their ears.

“We believe we know who the intended target of the attack was and who was responsible.” Gasps filled the room. “At this point I would like to hand the floor over to Dr. Parker Hollis, the man who truly understands what is happening to us.”

Parker stood, ignoring the mutters from the crowd. He held up his hands for silence, not surprised when he didn’t get it. He sent forth his will, used his powers to whisper in their ears. “Do you want to know what happened, or don’t you?”

The murmurs reluctantly died down.

“Good. As some of you may know, I labor under a curse. What you don’t know is this curse was bestowed upon me by an insane witch who believed that by changing both herself and my dietary needs, I would form the singele sotiei bond with her, thus taking her as my blood wife and feeding from no other. The bond is irresistible, unforgettable, similar to the mate bond weres experience.” The vampires in the crowd turned paler than normal, horrified by the perversion of a sacred bond. The shock on the faces of the nonvampires showed they understood exactly how serious Terri’s crime was. “I knew when I met my sotiei that she was the one, but Terri believed she could influence the bond by turning herself into what my sotiei calls a weed and changing me into a vampire who could only drink green, leafy blood.” Some of the vampires in the audience smirked, but Parker didn’t care. He’d lived with this curse for over fifty years. He doubted any of them would have done better. “I found myself unable to kill her, no matter how desperately I wished to. Something stayed my hand, and because of that, I humbly apologize.”