Sins of Long Ago

by Naomi Bellina

  “Hey, sorry, man, I should have called first, I know. Time got away from me, and you’re usually alone or working in the middle of the week.”

  “Yeah, you see what happens when you assume. You get to hang out on my porch in the cold for a while. Set your bag down and come in. David Miller, meet Genevieve Birch. Gen, this is my cousin, David.”

  “How do you do?” Gen said, stepping forward to greet him, her hand outstretched.

  David didn’t move. He stood with his arms at his sides, staring at Gen.

  “Genevieve Birch? From the Birch witch family?”

  “Yes, that’s me. Have we met?”

  She slowly lowered her hand, and a frown appeared on her face.

  “We haven’t met personally, but I remember what you witches did to the wolves. Maybe you’ve forgotten that deadly Christmas?” David shot a look at Vincent and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Vincent had to think for a moment, and then it came to him. “Are you talking about the incident in 1907? No, I haven’t forgotten. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is, her people tried to wipe us off the face of the Earth. How can you associate with a killer?”

  “I don’t hold a person responsible for something her long-ago ancestors did. Allegedly did. Nothing was ever proven.”

  “What? What did my ancestors do?”

  Gen stood with her hands on her hips, her cheeks turning red.

  “Before the Regents, our leaders, decided to ban the making of new werewolves and other were creatures, families with wolves wanted to continue the line. They would have one of their wolves bite the strongest male in the family. A group of witches, several from the Birch family, didn’t approve of this practice. They believed all weres to be evil, abominations. They came up with a potion to stop the change from happening, or so they later claimed after they poisoned us.”

  David began to pace, and Vincent kept an eye on him. He knew the old story but didn’t realize his cousin felt so strongly about this occurrence from the past.

  “Witches around the world sent anonymous holiday gifts of beer and wine to the wolf families. Twenty died and many more became violently ill. The witches swore they didn’t mean to harm the men, only to neutralize the werewolf component. But they lied.”

  “David, you don’t know what really happened. You weren’t there, and you’re only going by stories you’ve heard, which are more than likely exaggerated. Most weres don’t hold ill will toward witches nowadays.”

  “Oh, don’t they? Does anyone in our pack know you’re screwing around with a human woman? And a Birch witch, at that?”

  Vincent clenched his fists. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gen take a step back.

  “Genevieve and I have just started dating. I haven’t introduced her to my pack yet. When I think it’s time, I’m sure she’ll be received warmly.”

  “Don’t fool yourself. There are still plenty of weres who don’t take kindly to witches. Ask a few of the Howlers. I know for a fact there are several guys who aren’t going to be happy with your choice of bedmates.”

  A sound, almost a growl, came from Genevieve, and she moved toward David. Vincent put his hand on her arm.

  “Take it easy. David, this is not the time to talk about this. Gen and I aren’t even…” He stopped.

  For a moment, no one said a word. From the kitchen, the oven timer dinged.

  “We’re not even what?” Genevieve turned to face Vincent.

  “Not even sure where we’re going.”

  Anger and pain flashed in her eyes, then she pulled her arm away.

  “Home, that’s where I’m going.” She grabbed her purse off the floor, snatched her coat, and strode to the front door.

  “Wait.” Vincent reached for her, but she brushed past him.

  “Hey, man, I’ll just…” David picked up his bag.

  “Stay right there.” Vincent pointed his finger at his cousin then followed Gen out the door onto his porch. He tried to take her hand, but she pulled away.

  “Look, we haven’t had a chance to talk about our relationship. We’ve both been so busy, and every time I get near you…”

  “Our clothes fall off and we get sidetracked. I’ve noticed. But I’ve also noticed, we seem to work fairly well together. I thought we had something good going.”

  “We do. But it’s not like we’re two regular people, planning dates, doing normal shit. I’m a werewolf and the lidé of my pack. You’re a witch, who could go crazy if she falls in love. We’ve got some issues here.”

  “We sure do, and the first one is, you’re a coward. Why didn’t you stand up for me in front of David? Why did you let him talk to me so rudely?”

  Vincent ran his hand through his hair.

  “He’s my cousin. That’s how he talks to everyone.”

  “Not to this witch, he doesn’t.”

  She stomped down the steps to her car. Though part of him wanted to go after her, he held back. Soothing angry women wasn’t his forte, and anyway, a tiny voice in the back of his mind told him David could be right. His pack could very well have a problem with him dating a witch. Vincent hadn’t thought about that old business with the witches and the werewolves for ages, but some other pack members might still be holding a grudge.

  His cousin’s strong reaction caught him by surprise. How would he deal with it, if any of his key people felt the same way? He hadn’t had a steady woman in his life since he’d taken over the pack. If he did announce his involvement with Gen, some members were bound to complain.

  Shit. Vincent slammed his fist into the side of the house. It was never easy, but did it have to be so damn hard? Was it too much to ask that he get to enjoy this one piece of heaven? To be given a treasure like Genevieve and then have her yanked away. Bullshit.

  Rubbing his sore hand, he cracked his knuckles and jerked open the door. Cousin or not, the man had no call to treat his woman like an outlaw. It had been a long time since he’d fought one of his pack out of anger, and apparently, David itched for a fight too. The exercise would do him good.

  Tomorrow, he would take off for his recon mission. Screw waiting for Thursday and screw his pack and work duties. Time to get the hell out of town.

  Chapter 8

  Genevieve didn’t slow down until the speedometer hit ninety and only reluctantly eased off the gas when her car shook like a junkie needing a fix. The quicker she got away from Bethany, the happier she would be. Fuck that Vincent anyhow. Who did he think he was? Better than she because her family allegedly harmed his? Allegedly. She’d never heard that bullshit story before. Most of her people stayed out of the limelight and avoided trouble. She couldn’t see witches drawing attention to themselves with a ridiculous, crazy stunt. Poisoning werewolves. Really.

  But come to think of it, whenever she’d asked about were creatures, the older witches had traded looks with each other, then brushed the subject away, leading Gen to believe a juicy legend existed. No one would give her details, and as she grew older, her curiosity about them waned. She’d never met a were in person and never heard them mentioned in conversation.

  “They’re becoming extinct,” a witch friend once told her. “My mom says there aren’t any left, and the ones still alive are wild and live in the woods, all alone. They’ll kill you if you come across them on a full-moon night.”

  If weres had existed for a long time, as it would appear, they’d certainly made a few enemies along the way. The tale David told had probably been exaggerated over the years. More than likely, the weres provoked the witches in question, and the women had merely exacted revenge by playing a trick on the beasts. One they deserved.

  Genevieve would have been happy to debate the issue with David and find out the true story. What hurt, the reason she now sped down the highway at a give-me-a-ticket-I’m-insane pace, was Vincent’s reaction. He hadn’t even stood up for her and had essentially told his cousin she wasn’t important. Sure, she had qualms about starting a relationship,
and didn’t know exactly where it was headed either, but at least she had the balls to give it a try. They’d been so intimate, so close one minute, and the next he acted like they’d only met. Was this whole thing just fun and games to him?

  Damn it, the evening had started so well. She’d drunk his blood, threw in a little truth spell as she did, and then, holy fucking cow. Her reaction, his too, could not have been more perfect. It was like being in the best kind of love, but better. She’d been desperately hot for him. Like she had to get close, have him wrapped around her immediately. His response to her brazen behavior let her know how much he wanted her too. The fire definitely burned. Afterward, before Butthead David arrived, tendrils of bliss wound through her body, like a wisteria vine in full bloom.

  She was on the right track. Vincent was meant to be with her. Why did he have such a hard time seeing the obvious? Stupid men. Stupid werewolves.

  An exit sign promised food ahead. After the delectable aroma she’d smelled in Vincent’s house, drive-through fare would be a cruel replacement, but it would have to do. Damn him anyway, teasing her with home cooking and hot sex. If—no, when—they saw each other again, he would pay.

  * * * *

  Wednesday.

  The phone rang as Genevieve unlocked her shop. This would be a busy day for last minute Thanksgiving decorators and also for the Christmas shoppers who were already off work. She planned to give herself this half hour before she opened the door to get organized, meditate, and get a peaceful start to the day. Maybe a nice walking meditation, barefoot, so she could enjoy the feel of the solid floor on her soles. A cinnamon candle for focus and stimulation and a few positive affirmations. Perfect.

  Besides, she needed time to decide what to do about Vincent. She’d calmed down with wine and cat-petting therapy the night before and decided she’d overreacted. A teeny bit. Vincent had an enormous amount of stress in his life right now. Even though he had initiated their relationship, maybe he needed to move slower.

  It sure didn’t feel like it, though. That look in his eyes when they made love said he wanted more. He touched her like she was a precious object and kissed her with a passion straight from his soul. They moved so well together, each anticipating the other’s desire. How could he not want to go deeper?

  He did have a point about them having issues, although the way she saw it, she had the most to lose. If anyone should be holding back, it was her. Then again, after hearing David’s story and not knowing werewolf politics, consorting with a witch could be considered a grave offense. He could be kicked out of his pack. But why on earth had Vincent approached her if he knew all that? With a noisy sigh she reached for the phone to retrieve her messages. Love, Vincent, and werewolf crap would have to wait.

  Early afternoon, Genevieve zipped around her shop, up to her eyeballs in customers. She almost didn’t answer the phone, but a prickling sensation on her scalp told her to pick it up. She’d learned long ago to pay attention to her body’s tingle alert.

  “Garden Magic, how can I help you?”

  “Is this Genevieve Birch?”

  A sales call. Gen tried hard not to be rude to phone solicitors, but she didn’t have time for nonsense today.

  “Yes, it is, but I don’t want any, thank you.”

  The woman on the other end laughed.

  “You sound busy. Good for you. I apologize for calling on such a hectic day, but I’ll only take a few minutes of your time. My name is Sharon Minton. I’m the vice president at Born Beautiful. We’d like you to come work for us.”

  Huh? Gen stopped wrapping the item on the counter. “Give me just a minute.”

  She motioned for her part-time assistant, Carly, to come finish with the customer she’d been helping and took the phone to the back room, her mind racing. Born Beautiful. A cosmetic and personal care company located on the East coast somewhere, from what she could recall. She’d seen their merchandise in high-end department stores and online but had never bought anything. The prices were far out of her budget.

  “Several of our employees have purchased your products, and we’ve done research on you,” Sharon said. “One woman has been in your store in Nocturne. We’re gearing up to launch a new line of natural products and want you on board to implement the design. This is brand-new and hush-hush, so I can’t tell you too much until you sign a confidentiality and non-compete agreement. Are you interested in hearing more?”

  Genevieve plunked down in her office chair. This must be a joke. Any minute, one of her screwball friends would bust up laughing. They’d pretty much outgrown that type of humor though, and she couldn’t seriously imagine anyone who would find this amusing.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” Sharon asked.

  “Yes, sorry. I’m a bit surprised.”

  “I know this is out of the blue, but I assure you, it’s a legitimate offer. I’ll email you an agreement to sign, and then we can discuss more details. I wanted to call you personally before the holiday, so you would have time to consider. I can tell you, we’re prepared to offer you a substantial salary, and I think you’ll find our benefit package most agreeable.”

  Salary? Benefit package?

  “Yes, I’m interested. I’ll need to know a lot more about your company before I do anything.”

  “Of course. I’ll send you everything I can about our company. I’ll be out of my office until Monday, but if you have any questions you can call, text, or email me, and I’ll get back with you then. Let me make sure I have your correct email.”

  Sharon rattled off the address and Genevieve confirmed.

  “Happy Thanksgiving and please give our offer serious consideration. I hate to rush you, but we need a decision soon. We’re terribly excited about our new venture and plan to get started early next year. We know you’re the perfect person for the job and are anxious to have you on board with us.”

  Gen hung up the phone and stared at it. It had been ages since she’d had a job offer and never one she hadn’t been expecting. Owning her own business had become her way of life, and she never thought about changing. Well, maybe once or twice. Like now, around the holidays, when it would be great to have paid time off. Or during slow times, when she barely balanced her checkbook and scraped the bottom of the barrel to pay expenses. Or when she occasionally looked down the road at her future.

  Her retirement plan right now consisted of tucking away a few dollars into her savings account whenever she could. She planned to work for many more years, but times were changing. It seemed as though one had to have a great deal of money put aside to live comfortably in their old age. Social Security? Maybe that program would still be active when she retired, but maybe not. Since she had no plans to marry, she’d be on her own. What would single life be like in thirty years?

  “Gen?” Carly stuck her head in the back room. “This lady has a question about a candle.”

  “Okay, here I come.”

  Gen shook her head and stood. Right now she needed to focus on keeping her customers happy. She’d wait for the email and take a look at the offer before she wasted any more thought and energy on Born Beautiful.

  The day finally ended. Gen sent Carly home early, and as she knew it would, business dwindled at around four o’clock. Time for everyone to start their Thanksgiving food preparations. An email had arrived from Sharon Minton, and now Genevieve sat at her computer, her eyes glued to the screen.

  Holy shit, Sharon wasn’t kidding. Substantial, for sure. In addition to a brief description about the position, Ms. Minton had included a range for her starting salary, should she decide to join Born Beautiful. Even the low end made Gen’s mouth water. There weren’t many other details other than where the company was located—Maryland—and names of staff members, information she’d already looked up on online. They didn’t animal test, and the company’s policies seemed in line with her own, but anybody could come up with a good line of bullshit to use for marketing.

  Sharon asked Gen to sign the confidentialit
y agreement and then promised to send more particulars. She wouldn’t be bound to anything just yet. Gen couldn’t resist. She printed, signed, scanned, and sent the document. Even if this venture didn’t proceed any further, she was dying to know more about the company and their new line of products. Of course she would never tell a soul anything she’d been asked to keep quiet. Gen was respectful of her competitors and wouldn’t dream of revealing classified information.

  Drumming her fingers on the desk, she pondered what to do next. What she really should do, call Vincent. She owed the man an apology and knew she wouldn’t be able to think clearly until she made amends. Guilt always weighed heavy on her conscience. His cell phone rang and went immediately to voice mail, exactly as it had done earlier. She’d left a message for him that afternoon and once again, asked him to get back to her. The next call she made to his office phone number.

  “A to Z Security, this is Roland. Can I help you?”

  If Roland answered the phone, Vincent must be away. With a little finesse, she could find out where.

  “Roland, this Genevieve. Vincent asked me to look up something for him. I just now found it. Is he around? Or did he leave already?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s gone.”

  Ma’am? Who was he calling ma’am? She fought back her irritation and crossed her fingers and toes.

  “He told me where he was headed, but I lost the piece of paper. Can you give me the address again?”

  “I don’t have the address of the hunting lodge.”

  Liar. But then, so was she, and now she had a little piece of information. Gen thanked him and hung up.

  Damn. Vincent got so pissed at her he’d taken off? She could have sworn he said he planned to in town for Thanksgiving. Hunting? Vincent did not strike her as the kind of guy to sit in a tree waiting to shoot an animal.

  She put on her jacket and went to her back garden. The rays of the autumn sun cast a soft golden light this time of day. Watering the plants, walking among them, helped her center and gather her thoughts. She picked a sprig of rosemary and rubbed it in her hands, the aroma further stimulating her mind.