Blood of the Maple

Rock sighed. “Stubborn.”

“As a tree root.” She hopped in her jeep and started it, suddenly starving. She’d completely forgotten breakfast, and waffles sounded like a great idea. It wasn’t muesli, but a change was nice once in a while. Besides, heading to the local diner would allow her to gauge the townspeople’s reactions to her after the battle with the wicked witch.

“Fine. Do me a favor? Be careful, okay? I’d hate to lose my best friend to a psycho bitch.”

Amara grinned. “Will do. Bye, Rock.”

“Later.”

She dropped the cell phone on the passenger seat and headed off to find some syrupy goodness. She pulled up outside the diner just after three in the afternoon and was surprised to find so many bicycles parked out front. “What the hell?” Was school out already?

She entered the diner, and all conversation stopped.

Oh hell. It looked like every dryad in Maggie’s Grove was sitting in Harry’s, scarfing down pancakes, salads and veggie burgers galore. They stared at her, their faces slack, their eyes wide. Shit. She’d forgotten practically everyone ate at Harry’s, whether they lived in town or on the mountain. She pointed toward the door with her thumb and began shuffling away. She’d rather eat anywhere else. Like Siberia. “I’ll go now. It’s okay. Don’t get up.”

As one, the dryads stood and began walking toward her.

“Hell.” Amara opened the door and ran for her jeep, hoping the Children of the Corn had taken the hint. The first touch to her shoulder told her they hadn’t. She whirled around, ready to defend herself.

Soft butterfly touches on her hands, her hair, her arms and her legs confused her. Each dryad took a turn stepping forward and touching some piece of her skin that was exposed by her uniform.

Each one closed his or her eyes in grief afterward.

This was the first time any of them had come close enough to touch her. She had no idea what they were feeling or sensing, but from the way some of them had begun weeping, it couldn’t be good. She wanted to shrink, disappear until she wasn’t faced with their hatred anymore. This was ten times worse than someone crossing the street. “Please. Leave me alone.”

The dryads stared, most of them with tears in their eyes. Not one moved.

Amara swallowed. They’d surrounded her jeep. She couldn’t leave without possibly hurting one of them. She closed her eyes and prepared herself for the coming blows, physical and spiritual. “Why?”

Of all the people who’d chosen to attack her, the dryads were the only ones who were absolutely safe from retaliation. It went against all of her instincts to protect and defend, and now she finally understood why. As a hamadryad, it was her job to keep them safe.

The bastards.

“We’re sorry.”

That was the last thing she’d expected them to say. Amara opened her eyes. Around her, the dryads sat, some on the ground, some on her jeep, keeping her penned in with nothing more than their bodies. “What?”

The one who seemed to be their spokeswoman stood. Amara recognized her as one of the dryads who used to cross the street when she approached. That shunning had hurt more than any of them would ever know. “We’re sorry.”

“Glinda loved you, but she didn’t know you,” another one, this one male, said.

A third piped up. “And because of that, neither did we.”

“We followed the lead of Oak, Ash, Birch and Yew. They avoided you, so we did too.”

“But we didn’t understand why they did.”

“We thought they avoided you because you were different, not because Glinda asked them to.”

“We knew you were different. We sensed your pain, but we couldn’t make ourselves help you.”

“We were cruel to you.”

“We’re sorry, Amara.”

“So sorry.”

“So sorry.”

“We’re going to help you,” the spokeswoman said firmly. Amara, shocked, stood speechless, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “We’re going to help find the one who is after your heart. When we find her, you’ll know.”

Amara didn’t respond. She couldn’t. She was light-headed, afraid she might pass out.

They’d accepted her. They’d apologized to her.

She looked up.

Nope. Sky’s still there.

When she faced them again, some looked heartbroken. Others were stoic; still others were quietly crying. She could feel their pain, their remorse. Their heartache. It twisted inside her, made her want to howl, to punish whoever had caused them this much grief.

But how do you punish love? Glinda had never intended to hurt any of them, but she had, and now they all had to live with the memories.

The spokeswoman looked around and sighed. “We’ll leave you to your breakfast.” The crowd walked toward their bikes.

“Wait.” Someone had to take the first step in healing the breach love had accidentally caused. If they could come to her, apologize to her, then she could do her part to mend the rift. “Have breakfast with me.”

They sagged in relief, sighing and smiling and patting her skin once more. “Yes, please.”

“Thank you.”

“We’d like that.”

The chattering crowd surrounded her, suddenly eager for waffles and eggs. Amara stuck close to the spokeswoman as they reentered the diner. “How did you know I was coming here?”

The woman smiled. “You’re our hamadryad. We always know where you are, but we didn’t understand why until Oak explained it to us.”

She sat in the booth with a thump. They always knew where she was? “Do you always know what I’m doing?” That had the potential to be hideously embarrassing, didn’t it?

Blushes and giggles. “No, but a lot of the time we can guess.” One of them actually batted his lashes at her.

Amara didn’t know if dryads could sink through linoleum, but she was determined to find out.

Chapter Nine

Parker sat up and spit dirt out of his mouth. “Well. Isn’t this pleasant?” He hadn’t spent a night in the earth since…well, since he’d dug his way out of the stuff when he’d felt someone walking over his grave. He stood and brushed off. “Greg?”

“Here.”

He picked an earthworm out of his pocket and dropped it back into the hole he’d slept in. “Why aren’t I home in my nice, warm wife?”

“Because your beast is a jealous, macho asshole.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking out yet more dirt. “And?”

“Ash visited this morning.”

“So?”

“Amara was naked.”

Parker winced. “Is he alive?”

“Oh yeah. She got him out of the bedroom and thought you’d gone back to sleep. When she left with him, your beast decided someone was trying to steal your mate. I got to them before you did and warned Amara. She got Ash to do a disappearing act, you dug your bed and lay in it, and Amara went out for breakfast with every dryad in the tri-state area.”

“Oh.” He stared at a chipmunk chattering at him in a shrill voice and wondered what he’d done to piss it off.