Blood of the Maple

Brian pinched thin air.

“Of course, I prefer blonds.”

“You’d better,” Brian muttered. “Night.”

“Night, baby.”

Brian’s hair moved on an invisible breeze. He smiled and snuggled in. His eyes drifted shut, and soon he was snoring softly. Amara turned the sound low enough to keep from disturbing Brian. “You sure you don’t want to take him to bed? I’m okay waiting up for Parker by myself.”

“I’m good. First off, I don’t sleep much, in case you hadn’t noticed. Second, if Terri is alive, she might come here. Least I can do is protect Brian or fetch Parker if she does.”

“Our personal guard ghost?”

“Something like that.” The remote lifted off the coffee table, and the sound inched upward. “Shh. I want to hear what that bitch has to say about my girl.”

Amara was so engrossed in what she was watching that she jumped when cool arms wrapped around her from behind. “Good evening,” Parker drawled in a bad Bela Lugosi.

She laughed. “That is so cliche.”

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to use that line?”

“Since 1931?” Glinda had been a horror-movie buff, but she’d loved the vampire movies the most, so Amara was aware the first Bela Lugosi film came out that year.

Glinda would have loved Parker.

“Ha-ha, funny girl. How about, honey, I’m home.” Parker stole a soft kiss, moving quietly in the face of Brian’s snores.

“How was your day, dear?”

Parker moved around the couch, picked her up and settled with her in his lap. “Absolute rubbish. Yours?”

“Ditto.” She rested her head against his shoulder with a sigh. Her lover was safely home; she could relax.

“Sequin alert.”

Amara spun around in time to see her favorite drag queen sashay onto the runway.

“That’s a very beautiful woman.”

“Yes, she is.”

Parker stared over Brian’s head. “Greg? Since when do you like the ladies?”

“I don’t.”

Amara dug out the last of the cold popcorn and popped it in her mouth.

Parker eyed the television with suspicion. “What in blazes are we watching by the way?”

“A RuPaul’s Drag Race marathon. And I have to say thank you for introducing me to this show. Who knew men in dresses were so hot?” She bit back a laugh as Parker choked.

“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.