Sins of Long Ago Read online

  Sins of Long Ago

  Nocturne, Book 2

  Naomi Bellina

  Published 2015

  ISBN: 978-1-62210-237-2

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © Published 2015, Naomi Bellina. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Leading his pack of werewolves keeps Vincent plenty busy, and now with a predator out to harm them, life is more perilous than ever. The last thing he needs is a woman to complicate matters, especially one who sets his body and soul on fire. She’s a human and a witch—totally the wrong woman for him. Even if he could take a mate for his own, he refuses to put her in the danger his life has become. No way can they ever be together. Werewolf-style love is fine anyway. No permanent partner, no bullshit, no heartache.

  Genevieve has never known true love. Cursed by an enraged woman long ago, females in her family are doomed to go insane if they fall in love. Life has been fine without a man around—until a hot werewolf drops in and captures her heart. Though they have plenty of obstacles to overcome, Gen knows they can work past them. Tell that to Vincent, as he struggles with old pack rules about love, sex, and consorting with humans.

  As Vincent searches for a killer, deals with death among his own, and tries to keep his hands off Gen, she attempts to end her family curse. Together, they must find a way to break free from the sins of long ago.

  Dedication

  To my man. I based a lot of Vincent on him, good and bad. Love you!

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to the fantastic crew at Liquid Silver Books for making submission, editing, and the whole book publishing process an enjoyable experience.

  Chapter 1

  Friday.

  “It’s your damn fault he’s dead in the first place.”

  The woman’s voice, coming from a back room, greeted Vincent as he opened the front door of the mortuary. A human woman. Shit. Not a good sign.

  He could understand one of his wolf pack swearing like a sailor. That would be expected. The deceased, Michael, was loved by all the werewolves, and everyone was upset about his death. His body should be with their pack right now, being prepared for the Final Ceremony, not lying here in McLaughlin Mortuary, surrounded by the stench of sickeningly sweet flowers.

  Rounding a corner, Vincent ducked as a vase flew over his head and crashed into the wall behind him. He rose, entered the room where the flying vase had originated, and saw his second-in-command, Roland, glaring at a petite woman with a tear-streaked face.

  “Just calm down, would you? We’re only trying to help,” Roland told her.

  “Fuck you.” She reached for another vase, and Roland growled low in his throat, a sound to make most humans pause. Not this woman. She reared her arm back to throw the second missile.

  Vincent crossed the room in two quick strides and grabbed the vase from her hand.

  “Hey now, come on, you don’t want to do that. We don’t want to call attention to ourselves, do we?”

  The woman planted her hands on her hips and turned her fiery gaze to Vincent.

  “No, we sure the hell don’t, so why don’t you two just leave and let me bury my brother in peace?”

  Sharon, that was her name. Roland had sent a quick text before he headed to McLaughlin’s letting Vincent know he was on his way to retrieve Michael’s body to give him a proper werewolf funeral. A ceremony in the woods, cremation afterward.

  The circumstances of this death were highly unusual. As pack lidé, or leader, Vincent had seen a lot, but had never dealt with a werewolf who had taken his own life. He’d also never had to handle an irate family member throwing objects in a funeral home. Sharon must have been the one to find Michael dead and, unaware of pack protocol, had brought him here.

  “Where’s the undertaker?” Vincent asked, placing the vase on a table.

  “I think he went to call the cops,” Roland said.

  Vincent studied his top security supervisor. He was breathing hard and had his hands behind his back, a sure sign his claws had started to grow and he was dangerously close to shifting. Roland could normally keep a grip on his temper, but he’d been especially close to Michael. His grief, compounded by anger at this assault could push him to the edge.

  “Why don’t you go out to the parking lot and let me talk to Sharon,” Vincent said.

  Roland started to protest, then stopped. The two had worked together long enough for the man to realize Vincent was issuing an order, not asking a question.

  “Find the director on your way out and send him in here, before he calls the police.”

  With Roland gone, Vincent took a quick look around the room. Several coffins lined the walls, and now the scent of embalming fluid invaded his nostrils. Funerals. Pumping dead bodies full of chemicals, plastering them with makeup, dressing them in clothing, and putting them on display, like they were still alive. A ritual he’d hated even when he was fully human.

  Vincent shuddered and turned his attention back to the woman.

  “Sharon, I know you’re upset. We all are. What can I do to help?”

  “Leave me alone, that’s what. If it wasn’t for you and your pack, Michael would still be here.” More tears leaked from her eyes.

  Vincent didn’t argue. For one thing, they had to get the body out of this place. Bickering with an irate family member would not speed things up. For another, she could be right. He stepped closer, took her arm, and lowered his voice.

  “We can’t leave Michael here. If anyone finds out your brother was a werewolf there will be a whole lot of trouble. You and your family might be in danger, and I won’t be able to protect you. He can’t be embalmed or go through the normal funeral procedures.”

  She pulled her arm away. “You mean you will be in a lot of trouble,” she said, but her voice wavered.

  “We’ll all be in trouble. You know the rules.” Vincent stepped back.

  Sharon glared at him again, but now a spark of fear lit her eyes. Good. Michael had told his sister what he was, against Vincent’s recommendation, and had apparently impressed on her what would happen to them if anyone found out about him.

  “Excuse me.” A man’s voice came from behind.

  Vincent turned to greet him, plastering a smile on his face.

  “I’m Dale McLaughlin, the director here.”

  Vincent stuck out his hand.

  “Mr. McLaughlin, I’m Vincent Bradshaw. How do you do?”

  The director hesitantly took the proffered hand. “I understand there’s some conflict about Mr. Moreno.”

  “His sister and I were discussing the matter. I believe we both have come to an agreement to move Michael to another home. Sharon wasn’t fully aware of his wishes, but now she concurs with me. Right, Sharon?”

  If looks could kill, Vincent would be cold, stiff, and face-up in one of the satin-lined boxes.

  “Yes,” she muttered.

  Dale frowned. “Is there an issue with our services?” he asked.

  “No, not at all. Michael had left instructions to have his remains handled elsewhere, that’s all. A simple misunderstanding. Leidolf’s Memorial Chapel
will be out today to pick up his body. I hope moving him won’t be a problem.”

  Damn, he hoped that wouldn’t be a problem. They were all in deep crap if anyone started poking around on Michael. Weres reverted back to human form when they died, and he would most likely pass a cursory inspection, but if he was examined more thoroughly, anomalies would be found. The pack had an arrangement with Mr. Leidolf, a were-friendly businessman. Cremations done whenever needed, no questions asked.

  The frown turned to a professional smile. “Of course. We only want what’s best for the family. There will be a small fee for the transportation and other services we’ve already performed.”

  “Fine.” Vincent cut off Sharon’s protests. “Thank you.”

  The director left the room, and Vincent took Sharon’s arm again. This time she let him.

  “Sharon, look at me a minute.” The last thing Vincent wanted to do was stare into the eyes of this heartbroken woman, but his sense of duty prevailed.

  “We all loved Michael. We would have done anything to help him. You know that, right?”

  She sniffled then nodded.

  “I know he loved you too. He spoke of you with great admiration. He appreciated you moving here to Bethany to be closer to him, so he could be near a pack. You understand all this. He talked to you.”

  She bobbed her head again.

  “I don’t know why he took his life, but I’ll do my best to find out.”

  “He was in love, and he knew he could never have her. That’s why,” Sharon said.

  Vincent frowned.

  “I didn’t know anything about that.”

  “He never told you because he didn’t want to complain. It’s how Michael is. Was. Always concerned with everyone else’s feelings.”

  Shit. Michael in love? How did he miss knowing a member of his pack was in love?

  “I…” he began.

  Sharon held up a hand. “Don’t. He cared about you and the pack, which is the only reason I’m putting up with your bullshit.”

  And because you don’t want to be killed. Sharon was being cooperative and had been through enough for one day. He kept his thoughts to himself.

  “We'll have our Final Ceremony tomorrow evening, then he’ll be cremated at Leidolf’s immediately after.”

  “Tomorrow? That’s not enough time. I need to try to get ahold of his dad, see if he wants to come…”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Why do you have to do it so soon? We have friends who want to pay their respects. I already told them we’re having a service here. What am I supposed to tell everyone?”

  Shit. So much for keeping this quiet. “Tell them this is what he wanted. We can have a brief viewing at Leidolf’s, then we take Michael to the woods for our ceremony. He’ll be cremated afterwards. We’ll give you his ashes to take with you, and your family can have their own service.”

  “No one will believe Michael did not want to have a service with all his family and friends.”

  “Then be creative and come up with something. We can’t let his body sit. That’s the way it is. A short viewing for you and anyone else in the area who wants to attend. It’s all we can do.”

  Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Vincent thought she would continue to argue. One more word and his patience, stretched to the limit now, would snap. He had excellent control of his beast, but if Sharon continued to push, they’d have to take the discussion outside. Between the obnoxious smells in this place and the feel of death crawling along his skin, Vincent’s wolf threatened to emerge. Even a slight yellowing of his eyes or lengthening of teeth and claws would raise questions.

  “Fine.” She turned and stalked away.

  Vincent let out a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was the crowning touch on a day that had sucked a big one since three o’clock in the morning when he’d got a call about one of his employees at the emergency room with a dog bite. A new client who had hired A to Z Security to protect his used-car lot had neglected to inform Vincent or the guard a Doberman patrolled his property. Sometimes Vincent’s security guards worked along with dogs, but it helped if both parties were aware of each other. His guard was okay, but Vincent spent the next two hours on the phone with the insurance company, his workman’s comp group, and the dumbshit client. Another call from an irate customer who couldn’t remember his password came in around noon—and now this with Michael.

  Got to get out of here. Vincent headed for the door. The last time he’d been in one of these places he had lost control and shifted as he raced out of the building. Seeing April lying there in a casket, so pale and still…No, don’t think about her. Deal with this.

  What would be perfect right now, a touch of Gen.

  Vincent stopped short as he walked to his vehicle. Whoa. Where had that thought come from?

  Genevieve Birch owned Garden Magic, a gift and garden store in the neighboring town of Nocturne. He’d met her recently while dealing with wolf matters and had been instantly attracted to her. They’d had a casual dinner one night, but the rest of their time together had been spent in the company of others and usually under strange, sometimes unpleasant, circumstances. She was a witch, knew about were-creatures, and didn’t freak out to discover Vincent was a werewolf and there were others in the area.

  Seeing a woman who wasn’t pack headed up his list of “Really bad ideas that would screw up my life.” He had enough to do running his security company and taking care of his people. There were plenty of women available for him in the pack, no reason to invite trouble into his life. So why this sudden craving to see her?

  Because Gen wasn’t pack. She wasn’t his responsibility. She had her own world, far removed from his. She was safe. Had nothing to do with the kiss they’d shared, the hot encounter that caused his wolf to howl and his cock to demand attention.

  “Everything okay?” Roland asked. The security supervisor stood next to Vincent’s Jeep.

  “It’s fine. Sharon agreed we could move Michael. What’s this about him being in love? Human woman?”

  “Yeah. I told him not to mess with that chick. Told him nothing but trouble would come from her. He didn’t listen. Said they could work it out. Then the shit happened in Jersey.”

  The human woman and werewolf male. Young couple. They got in a fight, both of them drunk, she started mouthing off about him being a were, loudly, in the middle of some crowded bar. People whipping out their phones, taking pictures and videos. Idiots. The next day, she disappeared. Those incidents didn’t happen too often, but when they did…a real good reason to stay the hell away from human women.

  “I think that woke him up, let him know how his life would be from now on. He was kind of sad, but I sure didn’t think he’d do this.” Roland crossed his arms, and Vincent could almost feel the helpless anger rolling off the man. The same anger that built in him.

  “We’ll have a viewing at Leidolf’s Chapel tomorrow, before our ceremony.”

  “A viewing? At the funeral home? That’s not right. We do our ceremony in the woods first, then have him cremated.”

  “I know it’s not the way we usually proceed, but we have to do it this way. The medical examiner and the funeral director are already involved. Sharon has told several of her friends. He’ll be moved to Leidolf’s today.”

  “But…”

  “End of discussion. Michael took his own life which might make him ineligible to receive the Final Ceremony anyway. We get this done and over with quickly before the Regents find out and tell us we can’t. Send the word to the pack. Viewing tomorrow at Leidolf’s, for anyone who wants to show up. Our observance tomorrow night in the woods. Same as always.”

  A muscle twitched in Roland’s jaw, but he nodded and walked to his own car, his phone already out. Vincent hated to put Roland through any more pain, but weres had to keep a low profile. They were lucky to have the arrangement with Leidolf and lucky Sharon wasn’t making a fuss.

  Enough shit for on
e day and to hell with the consequences. Vincent pulled out his phone and spent the next ten minutes composing a text that should have taken two minutes to write. He didn’t want Genevieve to think this was anything special. It wasn’t. He merely needed a friendly person to talk to, someone far removed from his company or his pack.

  The fact the woman made his cock hard had nothing to do with his decision.

  Thinking about her wild mane of curls and the exotic scent that wafted from them sent his pulse racing. She blended scented oils in her shop, or so she told him. He hadn’t visited her business yet, preferring to stay away from Nocturne, where she lived and worked. Hopefully, she would be open to meeting where they’d previously shared a meal, a restaurant just outside Nocturne.

  Before he could change his mind he hit Send, then reread the message. Damn, not what he wanted to say. He sounded like a needy, desperate kid. Wishing for an Undo button, he pocketed his phone and climbed in his Jeep.

  Had it really been that long since he’d asked a woman out? With all his responsibilities, Vincent didn’t have much time to date nor did he want to. There were enough werewolves in the surrounding area he could enjoy female companionship when he desired, for sex or for the occasional times he wanted to attend an event as a couple. With pack women, it was just a matter of picking up the phone and telling them what he wanted and when. Most members, male and female, did the same thing, though his requests naturally received priority.

  Dating just one person, especially a human, was a pain in the ass in the werewolf world and getting serious was not for him. Look where it got Michael.

  Exhaling deeply, Vincent put in the call to Leidolf’s. He’d be up to his eyeballs in pack business for the next few hours. Had to keep his focus. Tonight, with Gen, just an escape. Dinner, maybe sex. If he’d read her right, she was on the same page as he. Busy, committed to her business, needing a few hours of pleasure now and then. That’s all.

  * * * *

  “Quick, I have to talk to you before my husband gets here.” The woman rushed into Genevieve’s store, a cloud of heavy, expensive perfume wafting in with her.