Blood of the Maple

snows fell.

Amara yawned. Right after a bath she’d need to call her boss, Rock, to let him know she was back. She hoped whoever had covered her shift had been nice to the kids in the learning center. Some of the people who worked at the ranger station could be downright scary. After that, a trip to the secret garden was in order. She had to make sure none of the weeds had grown. Besides, it would be a way to help her mind return to the human world.

She entered the house and picked up the phone, dialing her number for work. She wasn’t certain why Glinda had insisted she get a human job or keep the human house, but she trusted Glinda’s instincts. The witch had never been wrong when she spoke in that magical tone. So Glinda had made sure that she got the degree she needed to join the Forest Service.

“Hello, Big Savage Mountain Ranger Station, Ranger Ian Rockford speaking.”

It always amazed her how deep his voice was. Any lower, and only werewolves would be able to hear him. “Hey, Rock. It’s Amara.”

“Done communing?”

“Yup.”

“Then I expect your sexy ass in gear tomorrow. We’ve got kindergarteners coming through, and you know how much they love you.”

Amara smiled. She loved dealing with the youngest members of Maggie’s Grove. It wasn’t until the older residents whispered in their ears that the children became afraid of her or acted belligerent toward her. It hurt like hell when it happened too. Those sweet faces would turn away, and she’d never see their happy expressions again. “Thanks, Rock.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow.”

Amara hung up and wandered upstairs. She started the water in the claw-foot bathtub, eager to wash away the last of her stress. Things had gotten odd recently, and she wasn’t quite certain how to deal with them. The pull to go next door and see what Parker was doing, stare into those beautiful eyes of his, was nearly overwhelming. Fighting it had taken a toll on her peace of mind, forcing her to commune with her tree and let the world fade away. But it hadn’t.

He hadn’t, and now she had to decide what to do about it. There was something about the vampire that drew her in a way no one else ever had, and it scared her almost as much as it fascinated her.

She peeked out the window toward Parker’s house while she waited for the tub to fill. She wondered if the community had welcomed him yet. He’d probably never lived anywhere quite like Maggie’s Grove. There wasn’t any place in the world that could match it.

She hoped he loved it the way she did. No matter what else had happened to her, how isolated she’d felt growing up, she’d had Rock and Glinda to get her through. It had been enough, and for them she loved this town and everyone in it. She turned off the water and peeked out one last time. She laughed out loud when a familiar car pulled up to Parker’s house.

Parker was about to meet the Maggie’s Grove equivalent of a welcome wagon.

The doorbell rang as Parker finished his dinner. The stale taste of the bagged blood mixed with his usual nighttime snack was nowhere near as nice as the blood Greg had provided, but he was getting used to it. Until he could find a human willing to sacrifice a few drops here and there, he was stuck with what Greg called BRE: blood ready to eat. At least he could cut the taste, unlike other vamps.

But there weren’t enough rose leaves in the world to disguise the flavor of a BRE.

He stashed the bag in the fridge and ran to the door, wondering where Greg had gone. The ghost had been awfully quiet this evening. The television was off and the radio was silent.

He opened the door to a young man standing there in jeans and a dark blue button-down shirt, his blond hair scraped back from his forehead in a low ponytail. He smiled, warm and inviting, reminding Parker of the time he’d gone with Greg to a gay bar. Half the men there had hit on him; the other half had hit on Greg. It had been a while since a man had hit on him, and if he did, hopefully he wouldn’t be offended when Parker turned him down. He looked like a nice person, but Parker’s interest didn’t swing that way. “Can I help you?”

“Hi. My name’s Brian Cunningham.” Brian shook Parker’s hand. “The city council sent me. Can I come in?”

Parker’s brows rose. What in blue blazes could the city council want with him? As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Um. Sure. I’ve just finished unpacking, so things are a bit messy.” He shut the door behind the shorter man. Brian’s gaze swept the hallway, taking everything in. He finally lit on Greg’s urn. “I heard you’d lost someone recently. The town wanted you to know we’re sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Brian’s expression was strange—like he was waiting for something. “Why did the council send you exactly?” Because somehow Parker knew it wasn’t to offer their condolences.

Brian chuckled. “I’m your new Renfield.”

Parker’s jaw remained shut through sheer force of will. “Excuse me?” Renfields were humans picked by vampires to serve and protect them during daylight hours when they were most vulnerable. Parker had never taken one, not really seeing the need for it.

Besides, he couldn’t afford one.

“Don’t worry too much about it. I come from a long line of Renfields.” Brian swept into the living room and sat on Parker’s favorite chair. “I need to know what duties you’d like me to take care of for you. Did your previous Renfield leave an appointment book or something I could use as a starting point?”

“I don’t need a Renfield.”

“They all say that,” Brian muttered. “Look, every vamp in Maggie’s Grove has one. Trust me, they’d stare at you funny if you didn’t.”

“They’re already going to—every vamp in Maggie’s Grove?” Parker’s knees had gone weak. He settled on the couch before he fell on it.

“You don’t know, do you?” Brian looked even more amused. “How did you find out about Maggie’s Grove?”

“My friend on the mantelpiece was a witch. He told me to come here.”

“Ah. My apologies. We thought you knew.” The smile left his face, his expression becoming serious as death. “Okay, here’s what’s going on. First off, you’re aware Maggie’s Grove is chock-full of supernaturals, right?” At Parker’s stunned look, Brian laughed. “Oh yeah. The witches keep out anyone who either isn’t one or isn’t capable of accepting us. You just found the only town in America where you’re one of the normal residents and humans are considered odd man out.”

Parker was glad he was sitting. He felt light-headed.

“Your settling-in period is officially over. You’ve unpacked, and you’ve been assigned a Renfield, since it’s obvious you don’t have one.”

“Who the hell is this guy?”

Brian jumped. His gaze landed somewhere behind Parker. “Holy fuck. You have a ghost?” His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and if Parker didn’t know better, he’d swear Brian was checking out a seriously hot man.

Could Brian see Greg?

“Can you hear him?”

“Sure. Sensitives and psychics run in my family, and ghosts happen to be my specialty. No wonder Mayor Ibanescu sent me. He knew I’d fit in perfectly.”

“Mayor who?” Since when did the mayor care so much about his resident vampires? “So. Who are you, who the hell is Mayor Ibanescu and what the fuck is going on? ” That last was roared loud enough to shake the windows.

Once Brian’s eyes uncrossed, he explained. “Okay. Maggie’s Grove was founded over two hundred and fifty years ago by people from, believe it or not, Transylvania. Cliche, I know, but I swear it’s true.”

“Uh-huh. Pull the other one. I thought most of the people who settled in Maryland were French, Dutch and English, Mr. Cunningham.”

“They were. Mostly. But we had a few…special immigrants—ones with, shall we say, special needs? Maggie’s Grove was founded to harbor them, and in time it became what you see today, a town made up almost completely of supernaturals. We have vampires, werewolves,