Heaven, Hell & the Love In Between

by Downey, A. J.

  You could see the scale at my throat in the picture, and the ease and happiness in the way I held myself, in my smile and my eyes. Alaric had been with me then. I let the happy memories wash over me but refused to let myself cry again. I didn’t want to ruin my careful make up.

  “You’re her aren’t you?” someone asked at my elbow.

  “I’m sorry what?” I looked into the smile of a very tall, very thin man.

  “The Doctor in the picture.” He pointed at where I smiled out at everyone. I blushed embarrassed.

  “I don’t have a doctorate, just a master’s degree. Jared is the Doctor in all of this.” I said.

  “You made the discovery of the runes?” he asked.

  “Ah yes, I did.” I smiled.

  “Who do you think this man was?” he asked and I resisted the urge to chew my glossed lip.

  “I don’t know.” I murmured, which was as close to the truth as possible. I didn’t know who Alrekr was, I knew Alaric. Who he had been in life was not who he had been in death, nor beyond. To me he was simply the man I loved.

  “Excuse me.” I murmured and walked in the opposite direction as if I had seen someone. I went in the direction of the stage and saw Jared, relief at having seen a familiar face washed over me. He was talking to a giant of a man that had his back to me. The wide black expanse of his tailored suit jacket was interrupted by a spill of white-blonde hair that ended at his mid back in a blunt pony tail. It was held back by a round pewter disc, a medallion of some kind with a sort of ancient crest stamped in the metal. I couldn’t make it out from this distance.

  “Ah Gracelyn!” Jared exclaimed and stepped past the man who turned. Jared wore his rectangular Gucci glasses with the black and silver arms. The lenses were bolted together with a thin black wire as a nose piece. I liked them. He called them his ‘special occasion’ glasses, but I’d told him I wished that he wore them all the time. They looked right on his face. He looked sharp in his tux with his hair styled just so and my smile became a grin. He stopped me at arm’s length and took me n with a low whistle. A bubble of laughter escaped my throat.

  “Oh come on you’ve seen me dressed up before.” We hugged quickly.

  “Not like this,” he lowered his voice and said in my ear “You have me thinking I might need to rekindle that crush.” I smacked him on his arm playfully.

  “Oh! I’m sorry, how terribly rude!” he turned to the gentleman he was speaking with and I looked up at him.

  My heart dropped into my feet for a second there, he looked so achingly familiar. His hair was swept back from a widow’s peak and his nose was straight and perfect, top lip thinner above a lush bottom lip. His jaw was angular and strong and his eyes were the clear gray pf a mountain spring and bored into mine with such an intensity... I almost vibrated with the need to touch him, to see if what I was seeing was real, I mean, this was impossible wasn’t it?

  “Gracelyn?” I snapped back into reality and looked at Jared.

  “I’m sorry?” I said, shaking my head a little to clear it.

  “I said I would like to introduce you to Mr. Alec Wermund. He is from Norway and very interested in our discoveries. Mr. Wermund, this is Gracelyn Adams, my best restoration and preservationist.”

  Alec Wermund held out his long fingered massive hand to me and I took it to shake, but he raised my hand to his lips, bowing to place a gentle kiss on the back of my hand and again a shock of familiarity shot through me. Several loud thumps registered and I jumped, the spell I was under broken. Jared frowned at me.

  “Gracelyn are you all right, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, but before I could answer someone was at the podium speaking into the microphone.

  “I would like to thank everyone for being here tonight, if you could all take your seats, we would like to begin as dinner is served.” Everyone began to move to through the tables, looking for their little name cards. I turned back to Jared and smiled, which smoothed the look of concern off his face. I nodded politely to Mr. Wermund who had yet to say a word, murmured that I was pleased to meet him and moved off into the tables myself. Gunnar signaled me and I went over. Jared joined us a few moments later and looked at me curiously. We took our seats and dinner was served.

  I surreptitiously scanned the tables for Mr. Wermund and found him easily as he was head and shoulders taller than most everyone else. He was about four tables from me, thumb and fore finger absently stroking up and down the stem of his wine glass. Eyes fixed on me. I tore my gaze from him and joined the conversation at my table.

  They served us mead and venison, expertly prepared, with salad greens and pan roasted vegetables. Gunnar had spared no expense on giving these people a decent and somewhat authentic meal. Everything was served feast style and people loved it, live music was played during the dinner, the performers dressed in period costume and playing instruments from the time. Finally the lights dimmed, speeches were made by Gunnar and Jared and then it was my turn.

  I rose from the table and went up to the podium, I was in a spotlight; I couldn’t see the audience beyond the first row of tables. I swallowed hard as a hush settled over the room. I smiled and made eye contact with a few people then opened my mouth.

  “My name is Gracelyn Adams. When I was I was thirteen I lost both my parents, Jonathan and Laynette in a car accident. I was the only survivor. At their funeral, people gave their condolences, and said they would remember my mom and dad and then I never saw or heard from any of them again. I went to live with my grandparents on my mother’s side and when I tried to talk about my mom or dad I was silenced. It was as if my mother and father had ceased to exist the night they died. Just gone. No one to tell their story.

  “No one to tell anyone about how my father, an engineer, instilled in me a love and passion for science and the stars that shaped me into one of the better scientists in my lab, despite the fact that I hold no degree in that particular field. Or how my mother, a devout Catholic, and a school teacher, instilled in me an unshakeable faith that everyone is inherently good, and that everyone deserves a chance at redemption.” I smiled at Gunnar and he smiled back.

  “They were just gone. Lost to the annals of time. Which is why history is so important. Not just to educate future generations, or to understand our past mistakes, but to tell the stories of those that have gone before. People like King Tutankhamun, those lost on the Titanic, Anne Frank, and now with this discovery, the story of Alrekr Hakon Frithjof. A Viking warrior, by all accounts an accomplished raider, but also a man.” I paused, this was a bit hard.

  “A man like my father, who lived, and died, in his time. Though I am sure had they lived at the same time they would have had a difference of opinion.” There was a titter of laughter and I smiled.

  “My point is, everyone deserves to have their story told. It is through history and the preservation of our past, through the deeds that leave a mark on this world either good, bad or indifferent, that we become immortal. So I ask you, all of you. Please help me. Please help me bring Alrekr’s story into the light, help me drag his story, his men’s stories and the stories of their victims out of the mud a thousand and more years after they died and give these men the immortality that all of us deserve. And in doing so, perhaps gain a little immortality yourselves. Thank you.” I stepped down through applause and went back to my seat. Jared was smiling and giving me a subtle thumbs up, Gunnar was smiling too. I just hoped I had been convincing and not cheesy.

  Chapter 47

  People were up, milling about being social, drinking, writing checks which I was grateful for, but I just needed a breather so I went out onto the terrace. It was cooler out here, a light wind blowing in from the Hudson. I closed my eyes and let it cool my exposed skin.

  “There you are.” The voice is deep and so achingly familiar I want to close my eyes and pretend it’s him. I opened them when I heard the scuff of his dress shoe beside me. I looked up, craning my neck and was more than half disappointed at meeting cool gray
eyes rather than burning red.

  “You look just like him.” I whispered.

  “Like who?” he asked, head cocked to the side a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

  “The only man I’ll ever love.” The honest admission was out of my mouth before I even realized I had spoken aloud.

  “I see. I am honored.” He inclined his head.

  “Please don’t mock me.” I asked, my eyes closing I turned back into the light breeze.

  “I would not dream of it.” The tension in my shoulders eased a bit.

  We stood in silence for a long minute. Finally I spoke.

  “I miss him,” I said and I didn’t know why I was telling a complete stranger, maybe it was that sense of familiarity or that he looked so much like him. I just couldn’t stop myself.

  “It’s like there is this hole in my heart with him gone, and I know it’s only been six weeks, but I still can’t breathe, or sleep, I forget to eat. I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. I know I was told to be patient, but patient for what?” I stopped.

  “I’m sorry, I must sound like a stark raving lunatic.” I sniffed back some errant tears.

  “No, you sound like a woman whose heart has broken.” His voice was kind, gentle even.

  “Sorry.” I mumbled, then with a stronger voice asked him, “Were you coming out for some air or did you want to talk to me?”

  “I wished to speak with you,” he said and smiled.

  “What about?” I asked and his smile widened.

  “Anything, anything at all. What would you like to talk about?” he asked and leaned a hip against the concrete balustrade. I looked up at him and shivered, he looked so much like him in the face and the timbre of his voice but there were differences too. I was at a loss.

  “Um, what do you do?” I asked meekly.

  “I am in international shipping.” He smiled serenely. It sounded like a good question at the time, I mean he already knew what I did.

  “Oh what’s that like?” I asked.

  “Very dry and very boring.” He cocked his head and I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

  Don’t close yourself off to happiness Gracelyn. He wouldn’t want that. Happiness is coming just be patient, and when it finds you, don’t be afraid to let it in. Rizoel’s words drifted back to me.

  “I don’t know, what I do is pretty dry and boring to some people.” I said.

  “No, what you do, you do out of passion. There is nothing dry or boring about that.” He smiled and it was wistful.

  “So what would you do if you weren’t into international shipping?” I asked.

  “So many things, I don’t know where to begin.”

  “Fair enough.” I murmured and we lapsed into a strangely comfortable silence.

  It was growing chilly out here but I didn’t want to go in just yet and face the crowd and the mingling I was expected to do. I hugged myself and turned back to look out over the city. I often thought about what it might look like one hundred years or more from now. Wondered if my building would still stand, or if my museum would still be a museum or something else. Warmth enveloped my back and shoulders and I startled back to the here and now.

  “Forgive me, you looked cold.”

  He settled the tux jacket around my shoulders, drawing the lapels together at the front. I smiled and gave a murmured thanks. The sounds from the party grew louder and then diminished again as someone stepped out onto the terrace.

  “Gracie.” I turned and smiled at Jared.

  “Hey boss.”

  “Ah, Mr. Wermund, I see you found her then.” Jared came forward. He was under the impression I had been through a pretty severe break up. I hadn’t done anything to correct him of the notion, I’d just gone with it, told him that he was gone. I was grateful he hadn’t pried, I think he believed that he’d died, which given the way I’d been and how things were, wasn’t far from the truth. Jared drew even with us and looked me over. I smiled at him and said,

  “Alec and I were just talking.” I smiled and I knew it must have looked a bit tired.

  “Ah, I see, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Jared gave me a one armed hug and I leaned into it briefly before we broke apart.

  “Not at all Mr. Worth.” Alec inclined his head politely. I sighed, I guess my reprieve was over. I glanced back at the party a little crestfallen.

  “I suppose I’m needed back inside then?” I asked.

  “It would be nice.” Jared gave me his winning smile.

  “Starting to get to you, boss?” I asked and he laughed.

  “That obvious?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but only because I’ve worked with you for five years. I’ll take over for a little while.” I shrugged out of Alec Wermund’s tux jacket and handed it back with a grateful little smile.

  “Thank you again.” I said. Our fingers brushed as I handed it over and that familiar little thrill went through me, causing my heart to jump. Just because he looks like him doesn’t mean… He can’t be him. I struggled with my inner thought process for a heartbeat, one touch and I felt like my brain was short circuiting. I smiled again and went back to the party to deal with the suits. Jared had done more than his fair share, no matter how I was feeling, emotional storm or not, I needed to pull myself up by the boot straps and do my share.

  I sighed as the heat and noise of the party reached out of the door way and pulled me in. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 48

  Midway through the last of the evening I ran into Gunnar who had a stunning brunette attached to his arm. I had smiled wryly to myself, recognizing the predatory look in his eyes as she’d laughed at something someone had said. At one point he detached himself and came over. I’d raised my hand with that same wry smile and said,

  “No need to worry about me or babysit me tonight Gunnar, I’m a big girl. Have fun, I’ll take a cab. Make sure to call me about some lunch next week.” He’d smiled his boyish grin that I wished I could see more often and had kissed the top of my head in a brotherly way.

  “You really are perfect in many ways.” He’d said and wandered back over to the woman. I couldn’t help it, I kind of glowed with the praise. Over the weeks since our deep talk about Alaric, Gunnar’s role in my life had been shifting and growing much as his ancestor’s had. He’d gone from nefarious predator out to conquer me to sympathetic friend and finally our relationship dynamic had settled into a protective older brother family feel that both of us were comfortable with.

  It was in that moment as he walked away smiling that I realized how far and how quickly he’d come in controlling his temper. He had people around him, and they were happy. His employees were happier, even Maximillian smiled at me now. It was like Gunnar was on a more even keel, even though he still harbored some deep and ugly hurts where his childhood and immediate family were concerned.

  I smiled as an older couple in their late sixties maybe early seventies approached. We chatted amicably and before I knew it the event was almost empty, Gunnar and his prize for the evening had already departed and people were filtering their way to the exits. Finally there were just a few of us left. I waved at Jared who was speaking with the museum’s curator and when I was sure no one was looking eased out of my heels, found my clutch and was padding barefoot down the marble stairs.

  Let me tell you something, cold marble after a night spent in heels inches taller than you were used to on your feet for hours in a stuffy room… That cold marble felt like heaven. I slipped out the front door to the museum and smiled in simple pleasure at the feel of the plush red carpet beneath my bare toes. Shivering a bit as the cold breeze whisked across my exposed heated skin. I stepped to the curb, shoes and purse clutched to my chest with one hand and looked up the street for a cab. All I could see was a very long line of black cars.

  Good lord, was this seriously going to be the first night in the history of New York that a cab wasn’t going to be at my beck and call? The breeze gusted carrying with
it the damp and musty river smell of the Hudson. I shivered and was enveloped in the satin lining of a tux jacket, still warm from the body heat of the man it belonged to. I turned with a startled yip. Alec grinned down at me.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said sheepishly.

  “No it’s alright, my mind was elsewhere, I just didn’t see you come up; that’s all.” I rushed out.

  “I see, still, my apologies.” He pulled the tux jacket closed in front of me to keep me warm. I smiled.

  “Looks like cabs are in short supply.” I bent to put on my heels, my feet were a bit swollen and protested loudly at being crammed back into the torture devices but if I was going to have to walk home, which I could, I wanted shoes. Barefoot on New York City sidewalks, yuck. So not happening.

  “Would you be comfortable if I took you home?” Alec asked. I chewed my lip and considered it. It wasn’t like he was coming up to my apartment. I smiled.

  “Would you? It’s really not far. I could walk.” I was torn. He arched a brow.

  “In this city, at night, in that dress and heels… I think not.” A black town car pulled up to the curb and he opened the back door before the driver could jump out. He said something to the driver who was tense in his seat in what sounded like Norwegian. The driver nodded and Alec turned, asking with his smiling eyes where to go.

  I gave him my building’s address and got in the car, sliding over to the driver’s side. He climbed in beside me translating my address and directions to his driver. We sat in silence in the comfortable hush of the town car as we waited to merge into traffic. Walking would likely have been faster but my fatigued feet really did appreciate this much more.

  The rustling of cloth against leather was what alerted me to his movement. I had been studiously staring out the window, avoiding looking at his painfully familiar face. He snatched my ankles from near the floor boards and swung both of my feet into his lap. I gave a short startled shriek and tugged the hem of my dress down to both maintain my modesty on the short side and in an automatic response of just not knowing what he was going to do.