Sins of Long Ago

by Naomi Bellina

  She scooted out and slid in on the other side. “I got here a little early and ordered a drink.”

  “So I see. Who is our server?” Vincent looked around.

  Just then a woman stopped by their table and handed them menus. “What can I get you to drink?” she asked Vincent.

  Vincent turned to her and flashed that smile again.

  “What do you have on tap, darlin’?”

  Apparently, she wasn’t the only one affected by his charm. Gen watched in amazement as the woman, who had been brisk and professional when taking her drink order suddenly turned into a nineteen-year-old college girl. A horny college girl. She leaned to one side, jutted out her hip, stuck her pen cap in her mouth and giggled, staring at Vincent. His smile broadened.

  “Drink list?” Gen asked as the woman ran a tongue over her bottom lip, still gazing at Vincent.

  “My name is Chloe. I’ll be your server tonight.” She giggled again then managed to tell them the beers on draft.

  “You made quite an impression on her,” Genevieve said.

  “It’s a wolf thing.” Vincent shifted in his seat. “We send out pheromones a lot of the time especially when we’re…” He stopped and tugged the collar of his shirt.

  “What?”

  “When we’re, ah, when we have emotions.”

  “When you have emotions? Don’t you always have emotions?”

  “When they’re stronger than other times. We should look at our menus.” He grabbed his and buried his nose in the pages.

  Smooth move, girl. Embarrass the guy, why don’t you? Genevieve snatched her menu off the table and hid behind it also. It hadn’t been this hard to talk to Vincent the last time they were together, or during any of their escapades the past few weeks. Of course, they weren’t exactly spending time together as a couple, just hunting down bad guys. Was this sexual tension rearing its hot, horny head?

  She must be feeling the effects of his male hormones too, because her nipples had hardened, and the heat between her legs had grown more intense as soon as he sat down. An image of Vincent naked and coming out of a shower flashed through her mind. Holy hell, where had that come from? Menu, food, concentrate.

  They both studied the menu intently, and Vincent looked relieved when Chloe brought his drink and took their order.

  “Have you found out any more about the person attacking the weres?” Genevieve asked. Someone had given two shape-shifters a drug, causing them to shift unnaturally. Her friend Morgan, the new veterinarian in town, was involved along with another werewolf—Dylan, Morgan’s new lover.

  “I just got a text from Dylan; he and Morgan have located Colin Sysco.”

  “Where?”

  “A little ways outside of Nocturne. They’re going to check out his place now.”

  “And you’re not going with them?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m having dinner with you. Dylan and Morgan are only going to scope out the situation. I told them not to get involved.”

  “You know, Morgan is pretty pissed at this guy. Do you really think she’s not going to want to go after him?”

  “I think Dylan has enough sense to lie low. I’ll follow up later tonight or tomorrow, before we have our ceremony for Michael.”

  “Oh, right, you texted me from a funeral home. What’s going on?”

  “One of my pack members died, and I had to make arrangements. This time, it’s more complicated than usual.”

  “Because?”

  “We do a ritual when one of our people dies. This guy, Michael, ended up at the wrong mortuary. And he committed suicide. Weres don’t kill themselves.”

  “Why did he?”

  “He was young and in love. With a human woman. We discourage pack members from getting serious with humans until they’re older and understand the ramifications.”

  Genevieve frowned. “But you just invited Dylan to come to your pack. You know he’s seeing Morgan.”

  “Those two have a little common sense. Morgan is going to help the pack, and anyway, she has her own secrets to protect. Excuse me.”

  Vincent pulled out his buzzing phone and looked at it again. Not happy news, judging by the way his mouth turned down into a frown. He tapped a few keys then put the phone on the table.

  “Then what do you all do for companionship? Like, uh, lovers and…” Gen trailed off and took another sip of wine.

  Vincent spun his almost-empty beer glass in his hands and gazed around the room. Probably not the best subject for a first date. Was this a date? If weres weren’t supposed to fraternize with humans, why did Vincent contact her? Not sure she wanted to get into such an intimate line of conversation and positive Vincent did not, Gen changed the subject.

  “Does your security company get extra busy this time of year, or do people get too wrapped up in the holidays to worry about alarms?”

  “Lots of people go on vacation and shut their businesses down, and before they do they decide it might be a good idea to have their homes and shops alarmed. So yeah, we do get busy. Besides just installing alarms, I offer package deals where folks can have one of our guards drive by and check their property two to eight times per day. It’s a popular item.”

  He’d stopped fiddling with his glass, and his eyes shone. He was proud of his company, A to Z Security, for sure.

  “Are there a lot of burglaries over the holiday? I’ve heard thieves like to strike then.”

  “Unfortunately there are, because people don’t use a lot of common sense. They…Well, I can’t really talk about my customers. How about your shop? I’m sure you’re busy now?”

  Just as Gen started to answer, the song “Highway to Hell” came from Vincent’s direction. He picked up his phone, looked at the number, and swore.

  “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” He answered and slid out of the booth, then hurried to the door.

  Gen tipped her glass and finished the wine. Should she get another drink? This evening was not going quite as planned. The relaxation she’d felt earlier had evaporated like a snowflake on a hot coal. Their food arrived, and she waited for several minutes, then unwrapped her utensils and dug in. Screw Vincent. He invited her to dinner, then didn’t want to talk about anything and ran out to take a phone call. She refused to eat cold food. He could do whatever he wanted.

  Her plate was empty, and she’d started on a second glass of wine when Vincent finally returned. He sat down hard in the booth and ran a hand through his hair.

  “I’m sorry about that. Our shaman had questions about the ceremony tomorrow night which is going to be rough because…” He stopped again. “How’s the food?” he asked, picking up his own fork and knife and digging in.

  “Tell me more about what you do for your deceased. I’ve always been fascinated with other cultures and how they observe death.”

  “As soon as possible, after they die, we have a ceremony in a special location. Weres don’t decompose as quickly as humans do, so we don’t have to have all those chemicals pumped into their bodies…” Vincent cleared his throat. “Sorry, probably more information than you want. I really can’t give you any details about the ceremony. It’s a private ritual. Non-weres are never invited, and we don’t discuss what goes on.”

  Genevieve set her glass down hard on the table. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I thought you asked me to dinner because you wanted to talk with me. After all the weirdness we just dealt with, I’d think you would realize you can trust me. I’m not a security risk. I’m not going to pass on anything you tell me.”

  Vincent paused, fork halfway to his mouth, then put it down. “Okay, you’re right. I do want to talk with you. I’m not used to confiding in others who aren’t pack members. How about we go someplace a little more private after dinner? I don’t feel entirely comfortable discussing anything confidential in here.”

  A private spot. Now they were getting somewhere. To do more than talk, she hoped.

  “Sounds good to me. It’s beautiful out tonight. I’d love to sit ou
tside for a while, look at the stars. I’ll bet you know of some nice wooded areas around here.”

  “I do. The pack has several places we go to run. Let me finish up here and…”

  His phone buzzed again. He looked at it then typed quickly.

  “Sorry. My main man, Roland. He’s having some problems notifying all the pack about the ceremony tomorrow. It’s okay. I’ll get with him later.”

  Gen drummed her fingers on the table. Calm, just stay calm. Vincent had a lot going on and was trying his best. Okay, he didn’t want to talk about the man who just died, didn’t want to talk much about his pack, and could only discuss a little about his business.

  “What are you doing for Thanksgiving? Do you have family in the area?”

  “My family is mostly in Texas. Sometimes I visit for one of the holidays, but probably not this year. You?”

  “My mom and her sister like to travel on Thanksgiving. I’ve gone on a trip with them once or twice but…”

  His phone buzzed again, and this time when Vincent looked at it his face went dark with anger. “Shit. Hang on a second.” He tapped the keys.

  Enough. Genevieve slid out of the booth and stood. “You seem to be having a busy night. I think I’ll leave you to it.”

  “No wait. I’m done. This text should wrap everything up for the evening…”

  “Highway to Hell” sounded once more.

  “Thanks for dinner.” Genevieve grabbed her purse and jacket, turned on her heel, and strode to the front of the restaurant. She half expected Vincent to follow her, but he didn’t.

  Once inside her car, she took several deep breaths then dug through her glove box for a bottle of peppermint oil. She put a few drops in an almost-empty bottle of water and drank it. The oil would calm her churning stomach in a few minutes. She pawed through her collection of bottles again. Shit. A few drops of Peaceful Soul would be perfect right now. She and Morgan had developed the calming formula to work with Dylan’s shifting issues, and a bottle needed to be added to her everyday supplies if she intended to hang around Vincent, apparently. Not good to hit the road in this state of mind.

  Vincent was on edge. He obviously had a lot going on, but he needed someone to talk to, a reason he’d invited her to dinner in the first place. Of course he was upset about his friend dying, and Gen sensed there were a lot of issues within his pack connected to the death. He hadn’t pissed her off intentionally.

  Still. He’d invited her out. Was it too much to ask for a few hours of his precious time? Gen pulled out her phone to call Morgan. Maybe she had a few words of advice on how to handle a too-busy werewolf. Oh yeah, her friend was out with Dylan, looking for Colin Sysco. Probably best not to interrupt their activities. Maybe she’d text her later. No, later Morgan would be rolling in her bed, having hot werewolf sex. Tonight, Gen might as well just go home and test out a new all-natural bubble bath product that had come in. Find a good movie to watch and cuddle up with Chocolate the cat. Same exciting routine she followed most Friday nights. At least this one included a meal other than her usual frozen pizza or leftovers.

  Gen started the car and sighed. Was her mother right? Should she forget the whole idea of falling in love? Much as she felt a pull toward Vincent, dating could be a pain in the butt with him. She’d have to work around his schedule much of time, deal with an alpha-male attitude, meet new potentially bizarre people who made up his pack. And if she decided to pursue the whole love aspect…

  One step at a time. Vincent got her motor running for sure, but something more about him called to her, beyond her physical desire. What she’d told Marian was true. He possessed a force unlike any man she’d ever met. No doubt a big part of her attraction was his animal nature, but the human side of Vincent had to be mighty powerful too. To deal with his pack, with his business, with the incredible strangeness of what life had done to him; there was an inner strength drawing her, telling her this man would be worth taking a risk.

  Even after this disaster of a date, she still wanted him. But a girl had to set boundaries and being ignored so hard pushed past hers. They would try again another time and he better have a damn good apology ready.

  * * * *

  Vincent rose to go after Genevieve, then sat back down. Fuck. Dinner tonight had been a stupid idea. He should have known all hell would break loose after Michael’s death. Why had he thought he could have a few hours free from interruption? And now Dylan and Morgan were chasing after Colin Sysco, a venture he should definitely be involved with.

  No. He’d told Dylan what to do. Scope out Sysco’s place, find out who he met with, take pictures, get any other license plate numbers, and report back to him. Dylan was crazy in love with Morgan and would not take chances with her safety. He hoped. But Genevieve could be right. Morgan was angry at Sysco and might want to take further action. Maybe he should try to catch up with Dylan.

  “Where did your friend go?” Chloe asked, stopping at his table.

  “She had an emergency and had to leave. I’ll have a shot of Maker’s Mark, please.”

  “Sorry, we only have Jim Beam here. Will that do?”

  “It’ll have to. You can bring me the check too.”

  Chloe smiled at him, this time with a glint of heat in her eyes.

  “My shift is over in an hour. I’m staying at a place just up the road. Do you want to come by for a drink?”

  Vincent studied the server for a moment. How long had it been since he’d had sex with a non-were woman? Sex was absolutely what Chloe had in mind. He could smell her desire, wafting off her in waves, setting his teeth on edge.

  “Sorry, not tonight.” Or any night. Sex with humans…Like he didn’t have enough drama to deal with. Bad idea all around, but her scent hardened his cock nonetheless.

  She reached into her waist apron and pulled out a piece of paper and a key. “If you change your mind, here’s the address. My apartment is close to here.”

  Shooting him another smile full of promise, Chloe turned and headed back to the kitchen, hips swaying an invitation.

  Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, Vincent pulled out a small bottle he’d got from Morgan the last time they’d seen each other. She had developed a potion made from plants and herbs and who knew what else. Peaceful Soul, she called it. She swore it worked to calm animals, even werewolves, and he’d seen evidence it did indeed. She and Dylan used it to keep him from shifting when he became sexually excited, something new weres had to learn to control.

  Vincent had figured out his own method of dealing with uncontrolled shifting. He normally avoided sex close to the full moon, the only time his body shifted involuntarily. Like most weres, if highly agitated or excited, though, he could begin the transformation to animal against his will, but over time, he’d learned to manage the wolf.

  Tonight, it threatened to emerge. Anger and sorrow combined with sexual frustration wore down his defenses. He put two drops in the whiskey that another server dropped at his table, erring on the side of caution. He could always take more if needed. Right now, he had to get his head together to finish dealing with this fucked-up mess of an evening. Shooting the drink, he left cash and Chloe’s key on top of the bill, put on his coat, and headed to his Jeep

  “I said no. Get your hands off me.” A woman’s voice, shrill with anger, carried on the wind.

  “Come on. Why not?”

  “Cause you’re low-life scum, that’s why not.”

  Chloe. His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, and he saw her leaning against a wall of the restaurant, the ember from a cigarette in her hand glowing bright red. A man stood nearby, leaning into her.

  “You bitch. Don’t you talk to me with that tone.” The man grabbed her arm, and she shoved him away.

  Pure instinct drove Vincent as he strode toward the couple. “Get your hands off her.”

  The man turned. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “The guy who’s going to take you down if you don’t walk away. Right now.”

/>   He looked Vincent up and down then stepped back from Chloe. “None of your business, man. This is between me and the lady.”

  “Yeah, well, I just made it my business. Take off.”

  Maybe the tone of Vincent’s voice sent a warning, maybe the crackle of energy he threw at the man sank in. Low-life scum or not, the dude had some common sense. He backed away several more steps.

  “Fine. I’m outa here. Your loss, babe.” He kept backing away till he reached the parking area, then turned and trotted to his car.

  “You okay?” Vincent studied Chloe and took a quick self-inventory. His heart raced but not like crazy, and though he sensed his wolf’s presence, it remained calm, stirring slightly in the background. Morgan said her potion worked fast. Nice.

  “I’m okay. Thanks, I appreciate the help. Jerk thinks he can push me around. Hey, you sure you don’t want a little lovin’? I’m on break right now. We could head to your car or mine for a quickie.” She ran a finger along his jaw.

  His cock jumped slightly at the contact, but nothing like the sensations that normally hit when a woman touched him, especially after he’d been so long without one.

  “Thanks for the offer, but no.”

  “You sure? We could even step around the building for a blowjob. It’s kind of cold, but I’ll warm you up. As long as you come fast.”

  Not likely. Vincent could hold out for hours and go all night. Coming fast wasn’t his style. Damn, he must be putting out the pheromones tonight. Chloe wanted him bad.

  “I’m taken. Don’t do the playing around stuff anymore.” He gently removed her hand from where it had wandered into his hair.

  “From the looks of it, you’re not going to do any stuff tonight, at least not with your date.”

  “Yeah, well.” Fuck. Probably right.

  “I’ll give you a special rate, since you came to my rescue and all.”

  Wait. WTF? “A special rate?”

  “Eighty bucks for a BJ, hundred and fifty for sex. Cash, small bills only.”

  Vincent stared at her. “You’re a whore?”