“Gotta love men in sequins, baby.”

“Good Goddess.” Parker lifted Amara and deposited her back on the couch. “I think I need to go do something manly, like grow chest hair.”

“Homophobe.”

“Perv. If I see Brian dancing around in dresses, I’m bleaching my eyeballs.”

“If you see Brian in dresses, then he’s obviously out of my bedroom, and why would he do that? Let me tell you, the boy’s got legs up to here.”

“Lalalalalalalala…” Parker stuck his fingers in his ears and left the room, headed for the kitchen and a midnight snack.

Amara picked up the popcorn bowl and followed him. “How was The Greenhouse? What did Selena say? Did you find Terri’s corpse and burn it to a crisp and scatter the ashes to the four winds?”

“Damn near destroyed, agreed Terri probably is alive, didn’t go looking because I was busy trying to save the lives of my astrids and no.” He pulled out the blender and gathered the ingredients for his nightly meal.

“I’ve got blood.”

He grinned over his shoulder at her. “I know, sweet. I have to space my feedings so I don’t hurt you. But I would appreciate a few drops if you don’t mind.” He poured maple syrup into the blender and began beheading carnations. “I contacted Dragos while I was at The Greenhouse. He went looking for Terri’s body but didn’t find it. Damn it.”

“I was afraid of that. Weeds are really hard to kill. I’m surprised the dryads didn’t sense her.” A few had called afterward to offer their apologies, but Amara knew it would be difficult to find Terri if she was hiding on the mountain. Amara stuck out her finger. “Tooth please.” She barely winced when Parker pricked her finger. She added some drops of her blood to his meal, then let him lick the wound closed. “I almost forgot. Brian asked us to wake him when you got home.”

Parker put the lid back on the blender. “I’ll give you a few minutes before turning this thing on.”

“Thanks.” She brushed a kiss across his cheek before heading back into the family room.

She needn’t have bothered. Brian was awake and semiaware. “Greg told me he’s home.”

“Yes. He’s about to make some dinner. Why don’t you head on up? I’m sure Greg would love to tell you all about Jujubee.”

Brian glared at Greg, his arms crossed over his chest, tapping his toe on the antique carpet.

“What? Remember the movie 300? Tell me you’d kick Gerard Butler out of bed, and I’ll call you a liar.”

“So I need to keep you away from drag queens?”

“Just like I need to keep you away from Spartans.”

Brian’s glare turned to something much hotter. “I bet you’d look hot in a leather kilt.”

“Thank you, but I fear they chafe dreadfully.” Parker sat, his gooey concoction in a beer stein with a pink bendy straw. He’d perched a jaunty purple paper umbrella on the side. He’d even added one of those plastic cocktail swords with fruit through it. She hadn’t even known she had maraschino cherries in the house. And where had he gotten pineapple? “Now I think I’m ready for this show, don’t you?” He looked back and forth between the stunned faces of Amara and Brian. “What?”

Amara rolled her eyes and curled up against him, certain life would never be dull again.

Amara followed Parker to bed in the early-morning hours. Thanks to Rock’s forced vacation, she could sleep for as long as she wanted without missing anything truly important. Greg and Brian were already at the top of the landing. Brian laughed at Parker, barely able to keep to his feet.

“Duct tape? Seriously? Down there?” Parker shuddered. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope. You’ve got to hide the candy, remember?” Greg’s voice was full of mirth. Amara suspected the only reason Brian was standing was the ghost holding him up.

Parker cupped his “candy.” “How do they get it back off?”

“Riiiip!”

Parker whimpered.

“Oh Goddess. I’m going to bed. You people are nuts.” Brian used the wall as a crutch, laughing his way down the hallway.

“Wait for me, Bri. Good night, guys.”

Parker continued to cup his manhood protectively. “That’s wrong on so many levels.”

Amara pushed past Parker. “I’m going to get some sleep. Are you coming?”

“I’m debating whether it’s safe.”

“I doubt a roving band of penis tapers is going to show up in the middle of the afternoon and hide your candy for you. Can we go please?” She was so tired that the walls looked like they were weaving.

“And won’t that image give me nightmares for weeks?” Parker followed her into the bedroom. He closed and locked the door behind them. “There. That should keep out the rogue penis tapers and sneaky peeping dryads.”

Amara crawled into bed, too worn-out to even remove her shoes. “Uh-huh.” She yawned, hoping Parker would shut the hell up and let her sleep.

“My poor sweet. Had a rough night, have you?” Parker tugged her shoes off one at a time. “Let me help you.”

It was her turn to whimper. “No sex. Sleep.”

“And surprisingly enough, I’m not into necrophilia. I like my women moving, thank you.” He slid her jeans off, chuckling when she glared at him out of one eye. “Sorry. My woman. Singular.” Her panties were removed next and tossed to the floor. She’d yell at him later for making a mess.

Her shirt slid up her body and over her head, followed by her bra. She bet it was somewhere next to her panties. The warm comforter was pulled over her, and a kiss brushed her forehead. “Sleep, my love. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Amara couldn’t answer. She was too busy following orders.

Parker didn’t think Amara had caught his slip of the tongue. She was so exhausted she’d barely noticed him tucking her in or his slide between the sheets. He’d joined her soon after, slipping easily into sleep.

Too bad nightmares followed him. Terri chased him through his daytime slumber, sometimes trying to cajole him into making love to her, sometimes doing horrible things to Amara while forcing him to watch. It was a mishmashed jumble of images and words that left him with no doubt her brain was as moldy as the rest of her.

Parker scented the air. If Ash was in the room again eyeing Parker’s naked sotiei, he’d make toothpicks out of him. But no strange scents assailed him, so he opened his eyes.

Amara, wide-awake and alarmingly innocent, stared down at him, her green eyes bright, her red curls tousled. “You snore.”

His lips twitched. “I do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do—I’m a vampire, love. I do not snore.” He hid his wince. He’d called her love again, damn it.

“Aha!” She reared back and pointed. “You did call me love. I knew it.” She flopped back against the headboard and crossed her arms over her chest, a satisfied smirk on her kissable lips.

Parker tried to cover his ass. He didn’t know exactly how Amara felt and had no desire to frighten her off. How do you tell the woman of your dreams that, yes, you were willing to stalk her to the ends of the earth and back? Because Parker would follow wherever Amara chose to lead him, no matter what that entailed. “I’m English. We call everyone love.”

“Liar, liar, plants for hire.”

Parker bit his lip. Goddess, his woman was crazy in a good way. “That’s pants on fire.”

“So you say, but you haven’t proved it to me this morning,” she muttered, blushing furiously. “Did I say that out loud?”

The grin Parker had been trying to hold back burst through. She was his personal ray of sunshine, and he’d gladly burn for her. “Yes, you did.” He used his telepathy to grab hold of her ankle, light enough that she wouldn’t feel it until she tried to move. He’d strengthen his hold only if she struggled. Somehow he doubted she would.

“Crap.” She tried to slide out of bed “Parker.”