Out back, the same. No damage done in her garden by the intruder. A container had been knocked off a table but not broken. She grabbed her trowel and repotted the upended plant and was about to trim a few herb plants when her door chime sounded. The electronic gadget was a lifesaver, loud enough so she could work outdoors and hear if anyone came in.
“Do you think it’s a wise idea to leave your front door unlocked while you’re back here, after what just happened?” Morgan asked as she walked onto the patio and hugged her friend.
“I always leave it unlocked. I’m not used to having to worry about bad guys. I’m bolting it now, though. Someone might come by thinking I’m open, with your car out front.”
Morgan looked around. “Everything okay in here?”
“Yes, I think the burglar must have just got here when Greg and Sally drove by. I don’t see anything missing. He started to go through my file cabinet, but it doesn’t look like any papers have been taken. Of course, I don’t know exactly everything in there. It’s just receipts. I keep most of my files electronically these days.”
“Do you think it’s connected to whoever is harming the shifters? My house got broken into also, remember?”
In all the excitement of the previous day, Genevieve had forgotten, several weeks ago, the same thing had happened to her friend.
“But the guy who came to your house, he wanted your prescription pad to leave Dylan a note so he would think that wicked concoction he drank was from you. I don’t have anything related to shifters and your work in here.”
“Whoever is behind this doesn’t know you don’t. They could have seen us together and might have figured out you’re helping me with my formulation. Maybe they’re just covering all bases. Look, I don’t want to freak you out. You have an alarm system now. You’ll be okay. And you have Vincent?”
Morgan stopped wandering around the shop and looked at Gen, her eyebrows raised.
“Let me make us some tea and we’ll talk.”
“Gen! Stop teasing me. Tell!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your psychic thing here? I’ll do tea, you do magic. We’ll talk.”
Morgan sighed but shrugged out of her coat and walked around the shop, touching objects as she went. Genevieve gave her friend a brief rundown of where the burglar was seen, so Morgan paid extra attention to the back office area. She took a tour of the outside also, holding her hands on the part of the doorframe the burglar had pried away. Still serviceable, but Vincent’s man had taken pictures and notes and promised to come back on Monday to replace it.
As she dug out the teapot and cups, Genevieve pondered how to approach Vincent about the cost of all this. There had been so much going on last night, and once they got naked, all thoughts of anything else except his hot body left her mind. She’d been still half asleep when Vincent left this morning and not capable of coherent thought, so the subject didn’t get discussed then. Was he giving her these alarm systems? The bossy wolf hadn’t even asked if she wanted them, and if he had, Gen would have said no. Aside from the fact she was certain she’d set them off herself more than any burglar would, she didn’t want to be in debt to Vincent, or anyone.
Oh, the problems with not dating much. She was so out of practice on the social niceties of life. How did a girl know the correct thing to do, and to avoid saying the wrong words and hurting someone’s feelings? She was a kind person by nature but also prone to speak what was on her mind. Vincent, however, seemed emotionally stable, like he could handle a bit of bluntness. He would have to, if he wanted to date her. So, she’d just tell him she would make payments for the alarms. He’d have to deal with her arrangement.
“All I get is a little vague, dark energy. I can’t pick up anything else in here, I’m sorry,” Morgan said, joining Gen at a small table where she had the teapot and cups set up. “Why are you rubbing that spoon? Sit down and tell me about you and wolf man.”
“Sorry, it’s a nervous habit. Okay, first I have to tell you about Hallmar Silverstein, the writer I met yesterday.”
“Wait, isn’t Hallmar the shaman for Vincent’s pack? And the guy who talked to Dylan about his genealogy?”
“Yep. Turns out he also wrote a book some time ago and included a chapter about my family and our curse. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I’ll get to the juicy parts soon. The story has to go in order. Hallmar wrote the book under a pen name, which is why I didn’t recognize it when Vincent and Dylan first talked about him. When I figured out who he was, I asked Vincent to introduce me. He came here for the ceremony they did yesterday, and he agreed to talk to me. Turns out, he spoke with one of the Ashcroft women, the family which cast the curse on my family, and there may be a way to break it. He’s going to give me his notes to look over.”
“That is good news. And then what happened?”
“Then Hallmar ran off howling into the night, and Vincent and I had a little fun in the woods, my phone went off, and we had to dash back here to deal with the intruder. I stayed with Sally and Greg for a while, but then I called Vincent…”
“Overcome with lust…”
“Yeah, something along that line. We ended up back at my place, and I did a striptease for him.”
“Ooooo, nice! He liked it, yes?”
“Oh yes. He liked it.”
“You did too, obviously. You have a shiny, after-sex glow about you. But what’s with that look? I know that look. He’s everything you ever wanted, but…”
“But, yeah, he is, all that. I like him, a lot. Making love with him…insanely good. It was like he could read my mind and tell exactly what I wanted him to do. Just the right pressure on all my lady parts, the right amount of time. Kind of eerily perfect. Have you ever experienced sex like that?”
“Yes, with Dylan. Since we have his emotional shifting mostly under control, we’re getting into this nice rhythm. You’re right, it’s like we read each other’s mind. Hmmm. A little scary, isn’t it?”
Morgan’s huge grin belied her words. She was deliriously happy, Gen could tell. If she was frightened, it certainly didn’t seem to bother her too much. “Not so scary. It’s kind of nice, not having to direct a guy all the time on what to do.”
“So why the worry lines?”
“Aside from the whole family-curse thing, I don’t know anything about werewolves. You’re dating one. What are they like? How do they live?”
Morgan shrugged. “Dylan and I just started dating. He hasn’t been a pack member most of his life, so it could be different with Vincent, but his being a werewolf doesn’t seem to keep him from doing anything he wants to. Except, you know, the sex thing, but we’ve got a handle on it now. I suspect there might be a few aspects of his life he’s not shown me yet, but right now, he seems to live like a normal guy.”
“It is different with Vincent. He’s more immersed in the pack. And I don’t know if I’m cut out to be a werewolf pack-leader’s woman. He has a lot going on and is pretty bossy. How do you do with Dylan? Doesn’t he drive you crazy?”
“He does. Werewolves are overly protective, stubborn, egocentric men, from what I’ve seen so far. But then, lots of guys behave the same way and don’t have the good stuff that goes along with being a were.”
“Like?”
“Like what you had last night, forever. I think it’s going to get stronger with me and Dylan. He’s very intense and puts his whole heart into everything he does. Vincent is the same way, isn’t he?”
Gen shifted in her chair, moving off a sore butt cheek that sported a huge bite mark.
“And Dylan’s laser-beam intensity doesn’t make you kind of nervous?” she asked Morgan.
“At first. But come on, we’re not getting any younger. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of half-assed relationships. I’m ready to throw myself in full blast and take a chance. If it doesn’t work out, at least I’ll know I gave it my best shot.”
Genevieve sighed. “Even if I want to, I don’t know if I can. This damn curse. There
’s a chance I can break it, but if not…And I don’t know if he even wants to get serious. He’s been on his own for a while. Do you know most of the weres have casual sex with each other? Most of them don’t form long-term relationships.”
“Dylan is just starting to learn pack routines. He went to the ceremony yesterday, said it was touching even under the odd circumstances. I’ll guess he’ll find out more about their protocols as he goes.”
“It doesn’t bother you, the whole pack thing?”
“I guess I think of it like having a large, weird family. You just have to put up with some crap because you love your man.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Gen said. Love. There it was again. That feeling that had been denied to her for all her life. But this time, contemplating a relationship, she felt a surge of hope and a tingly warm feeling she got when her life made a shift. All these events came to her at this time for a reason, not just coincidence. She was meant to be the one to break the curse, and Vincent was meant to be her man.
* * * *
Vincent cracked his knuckles. The computer cursor blinked in time with the music blasting from his speakers. He often previewed new songs while he worked, and he’d looked up one Genevieve had played last night while she danced. Clearly not such a good idea. His cock grew hard just thinking about her striptease. He’d been staring at this email for ten minutes and had no idea what it said. His mind wandered far away, watching Gen move that hot ass of hers. He closed his eyes to pull back the feeling of warmth, the one that enveloped him as he’d lain on top of her, her arms and legs wrapped around him, their hearts beating a frantic, synchronized tempo.
So that’s what sex felt like with someone you loved.
As soon as the word popped into his mind he shook his head, a jab of icy fear poking his gut. No, not love. It couldn’t be. He barely even knew Genevieve and was not in any kind of position to fall in love anyway, especially not with a human woman. He had important shit to do. During the upcoming year, he wanted to extend his company territory. A man in the next county had been in touch with him about selling his security alarm installation business to Vincent, which would be the perfect opportunity, but also meant more employees and more work initially. His security business took up a huge chunk of his time, and what little remained was spent working with his pack. This was abso-fucking-lutely not the time to add anything else to his agenda.
But ready or not, Genevieve had landed right smack into his life, and damn, last night with her…so fucking good. The sex had been beyond hot, but he also liked talking to her, touching her, the feel of her hair in his fingers. He picked up his jade stone and rubbed it, the cool, smooth hardness grounding him.
One thing he’d learned from Hallmar, pay attention when seemingly unrelated extraordinary events occurred in close proximity. They wouldn’t always appear to be linked, but he’d feel the connection in his soul. Gen was definitely extraordinary. He wondered what she was doing now, and if she enjoyed the previous evening as much as he had. Maybe he should call her. And say what? I’m thinking about last night and getting a hard-on. Are you thinking about me? Are you getting wet? Did you have a nice time? Do you like me?
He stood and paced the floor in his home office. Insane. He had far too much to do without adding the complication of a full-time woman to his life. And a human who lived in Nocturne; no way. Spooky little town. Now that he knew about the ley lines it made more sense he felt such weirdness whenever he went there. Gen seemed to think it was a special place. Maybe so. It was true many weres seemed drawn to the area. Part of it, because of the way he ran his pack, he knew, but some were undoubtedly attracted to the magical elements of the region.
His home phone rang, and he hurried to look at the caller ID. Not Genevieve. Had he even given her his home phone number? Probably not. Anyway, he should contact her. Guys called girls, right? Guys who dated women. His call immediately went to her voicemail. Now what? A text? Too impersonal.
Shit, this had to stop. Had to get his mind off her. Therein lies madness. Vincent sat back down, changed the music to his compilation of Mission Impossible tunes and logged onto one of his favorite sites where he could track down the license plate number Morgan and Dylan had given him. Hunting down the man who’d shot Colin Sysco would hold his attention. Business emails could wait. Very seldom did he use his cyber skills for illegal activities, but in this case, no problem justifying the move. They couldn’t turn the information they’d gathered over to any authorities. It was up to him to find the killer.
Twenty-five minutes later, Vincent had what he needed. He’d been working with a man in Switzerland on a new program, designed to bypass most any password-protected system. The guy was a genius, an ex-con gone straight. He wanted to stay on the right side of the law and only worked with Vincent because he knew the process would not be used illegally.
A man by the name of Ethan Kern had rented the car two weeks ago. He’d since turned it back in, and he’d used an out-of-state address. Further digging revealed Kern just rented a house for six months in The Woods. Just like Morgan had seen. Apparently, the man planned to stick around awhile.
Vincent leaned back in his chair and stretched. Damn, cyberspace worked good. Nothing like pinning down the enemy’s location before going in for the kill. Having Kern this close to home would make it easier to deal with the bastard. Much simpler to throw all his equipment in his Jeep rather than into luggage to take on a plane. Too many of his favorite toys weren’t allowed on an aircraft. Shipping them provided another option he used frequently, but nothing beat packing up his vehicle and hitting the road.
Though tempted to jump in his Jeep and head out, Vincent knew immediate action wasn’t the best course of action. Kern might be jumpy right now, since he’d just killed a guy. He might also be wondering who the man and woman were who’d come after him that night, especially since one them was a werewolf. Better to let him settle down, to think he’d gotten away with no one knowing his identity or whereabouts.
Colin Sysco, a scientist who had apparently been working for Kern, had recently approached a member of the Howlers and offered him money to participate in an experiment. According to Morgan, Sysco had been studying ways to manipulate human DNA when he worked at Villano, a large pharmaceutical company. Colin was also the one who had given two weres a formula that caused one, Paul, to shift to his cat form and not be able to shift back, and another to change to some type of hellish monster. Two nights ago, Kern took whatever research Colin Sysco had come up with and killed him.
These people, whoever they were, had a plan, a reason for being in the area and for hunting and watching the weres. Bad enough someone knew they existed. Really bad someone appeared to want to study them. Of all the packs to investigate, Vincent wondered why these shitheads chose the Howlers. When he got hold of one of them, he’d ask. And he’d get answers, one way or the other.
Ethan Kern picked the wrong bunch of werewolves to mess with.
Vincent rubbed his eyes. Enough for today. Time to drink a beer and watch a game, let his mind relax. He’d go over his schedule, take care of his company and pack business he’d neglected the past two days, get his shit together, and head out to The Woods for a recon mission. Recalling one more item on his agenda, he called Hallmar and got his voice mail. The shaman had gone traveling and wished his callers peace and joy. Well, Dylan and Morgan’s ansanm problem would have to wait for another time.
As he sat down in front of the television, he wondered if Genevieve liked sports. With a sigh—almost a moan—he grabbed the remote and prayed his common sense would be able to override his libido.
* * * *
Monday.
Genevieve kneaded the bridge of her nose, trying to push back the headache threatening to take over, as she studied the pages of handwritten documents. Massive eye strain. An envelope had been waiting at her shop door that morning with a note from Hallmar, encouraging her to take as much time as she wanted. She’d dived eagerly into the mate
rial, but anticipation soon gave way to frustration. One small, cryptic passage from his conversation with Belise was all she’d found in the stack of pages.
After much thought over the years, I’ve concluded, part of the blame for my husband’s infidelity may be placed on me. When I agreed to marry him, I believed he was a different man and tried to make him into something he was not. Perhaps my actions drove him to the arms of another woman. Not that either of them is innocent, but their punishment should not be shared by those who are. So yes, I’ve devised a way for the curse to be broken. The Birch woman must find a man who is loyal and honest. She will do the Blood Sharing ritual and add a Truth Spell along with it. She will then see him as he really is and must accept what she sees, and the fire will burn. To prove herself worthy of forgiveness and deserving of love again, for the final step, she must prove herself by…
Gen shuffled through the mess for the sixth time, to no avail. This portion of Hallmar’s notes stopped abruptly. He had said they were “traveling” notes, so she hadn’t expected perfect order, but they couldn’t end this way. They just couldn’t.
She stood and began to pace, then started putting away her laundry. Movement helped her think. The Blood Sharing ritual. Many witches performed one when they fell in love. By drinking their lover’s blood they were able to determine if they were soul-matched. Friends who tried the ritual described it different ways. “It’s like being high, except without the dry mouth and paranoids. Like, you’re so much in love and everything is right and perfect.” When it didn’t work? “Like having PMS magnified about ten times. You want to hurt him, really bad. Stick a knife in his eyeball, smack him upside the head with a tire iron.” And other fun stuff.
Sins of Long Ago Page 10
