Honey Wine

by Brieanna Robertson

  He snapped his gaze to her and wheezed out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I...” He cleared his throat for probably the hundredth time. “I'm just gonna go. I don't feel so well all of a sudden."

  "Oh, okay. Well, did you want to take those books, or..."

  "I, uh, I'll come back for the stuff tomorrow, if that's okay. I just want...” He darted out of the room.

  Autumn poked her head into the hallway just as he emerged from the office again with one thick book.

  "I'm just gonna take this one for now. Is that all right?"

  She blinked in bewilderment at him and glanced at the title of the book he had chosen. It was Dr. Lowenstein's Volume Two. “Yeah, okay, you sure you're all right?"

  He was so pale that he almost looked gray. He nodded a little too vigorously. “Yeah, I just think I ate something bad, or something. Anyway, I'll just see you tomorrow.” He waved and all but ran down the staircase.

  Autumn watched him in stunned silence. She shook her head at his odd behavior, sighed, and then turned back to the statue with a smile. “All right, mister. Let's get you cleaned up."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  It was probably silly to think that a statue was hot, but he was. She wasn't even going to deny it. For a hunk of stone, he really was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen. She wondered if he'd come straight out of the sculptor's imagination or if he'd been based on a real person. If the latter was true, Autumn wanted to meet the inspiration.

  She continued to run a damp cloth over all the intricate lines of the statue to rid it of all traces of dirt and dust. She'd never really had that great of luck with men. She was decently attractive, so she got a lot of attention, but her glasses seemed to make guys think that she was the “naughty teacher” type or something. She'd go out with men and spend the evening intimidating most of them with her intellect, and then when she wouldn't put out on the first date, she never heard from them again. She didn't know why everything male just seemed to assume that she was easy. Apparently, ninety-five percent of the population didn't think that a woman could be both intelligent and pretty.

  As she finished the last of the dusting, Autumn leaned back on her haunches to assess her handiwork. She smiled and reached up to brush back several strands of her dark brown hair from where they had escaped her messy ponytail. “You look better already! Much better than me, anyway.” She looked down at her khaki cargo pants. There were dirt smudges everywhere, and an equal amount of white dust patches decorating her black shirt. “I need to take a shower,” she muttered.

  She glanced up at the statue and pointed at it. “Don't go anywhere.” She giggled at her own silliness, and a pang shot through her heart as she thought of Uncle Sal. She tried to push the sadness away, but she had been ignoring it ever since she'd gotten the call. It was her way. Take care of business first, worry about emotion later.

  The sorrow was persistent now, however, and by the time she was in the shower, her tears surged in a torrent. She washed her hair and tried to go about the task at hand until the grief overwhelmed her and she eased herself to the shower floor and sobbed as the hot water cascaded over her back. She couldn't stand the thought of not having her uncle in the world. He was all she'd had for so long. And even after she'd gone off to college and he had moved overseas to travel and teach, she'd loved him just as much. He had always made her laugh, had brought lightheartedness to her otherwise serious world. Her uncle had dared to believe in the impossible and the extraordinary. That was a quality rarely anyone had anymore. And no matter how crazy he'd seemed, she'd adored him for his eccentricity and individuality.

  Autumn stayed in the shower, crying until the water started to get cold. Finally pulling herself together, she stood, switched it off, and got out. She towel dried and wondered about her future now that Uncle Sal was gone. She'd never not pictured him in her life. Now, she had no one. Her world suddenly seemed like a lonely, empty chasm.

  She slipped into her pajamas and made herself a cup of tea, then headed back into her bedroom. A blast of cold air assaulted her as she stepped in, and she shivered violently. “Geez,” she muttered, setting her mug down and going over to the fireplace. “Drafty, old castle.” She made quick work out of starting a fire, freezing almost the entire time she was doing it. It was odd. The rest of the castle hadn't seemed this cold, but then again, her room did face the sea. There must have been more fog than usual.

  Once the fire was blazing hot and the chill started to disappear from the room, Autumn grabbed her tea again and pulled an antique chair over to the fireplace. Feeling exhausted, she sighed and took a sip. She made a face because the liquid was ice cold. She frowned down at her cup. “Gimme a break.” She rolled her eyes, set her mug on the floor, and pulled her knees up to her chest as she gazed into the fire. Her nose and toes still felt frigid despite the warmth of the flames.

  She didn't understand why she felt so lonely now that Uncle Sal was gone. She was independent, was used to doing her own thing and being by herself. She hadn't seen him but once a year for the last five, but she'd always known he was there. Just a phone call or e-mail away. Now, nothing. Just a bunch of useless possessions and a castle made of stone.

  She shook her head and looked away as tears threatened again. She turned her attention back to the statue. “What am I complaining about? You're made of granite or something. You have to be lonelier than I am...” Her brows drew together in curiosity. He looked different. The color of the stone was not as gray, but more of a white with a bluish tint ... like ice. She blinked at it in contemplation for a couple seconds before two thoughts went through her mind. One was that she must have cleaned him a lot better than she'd given herself credit for. The other was that she really needed to go to sleep.

  Leaving her cold cup of tea where it was, she stood, went over to her bed, climbed beneath the covers, and pulled them up around the bottom part of her face. If she could have moved her entire bed over to the fireplace, she would have. She felt like she was in freaking Antarctica.

  After several minutes of shivering, warmth finally began to seep back into her tired body. Within seconds, she was asleep.

  * * * *

  She was hot. So deliciously hot. Waves of warmth cascaded over her skin in sensual ripples, making her writhe in fantastic torment. She tossed her head restlessly on her pillow, her mind filling with a hundred wanton images. Blindly, she clutched at her shirt. It was stifling her. She tugged on the collar, then gasped as a trail of erotic fire ran from her neck all the way down to her stomach. It felt like the lightest touch of fingers, but so much more sinful, exploratory, curious ... hot.

  She tossed her head again and frowned as consciousness pulled her out of her bizarre dream. She blinked away the remnants of sleep and opened her eyes to find herself staring at the most amazing face she had ever seen. Full lips, strong jaw, cleft chin, and eyes that burned blue like the hottest part of a flame.

  She screamed bloody murder.

  The intruder backed away from her, but she screamed again, panic causing her adrenaline to take charge. She scooted up toward the headboard and swung her fist on reflex. It made contact with his eye, which sent him tumbling backward off her bed. Scrambling for any kind of protection, she snatched up the only thing on her nightstand that looked formidable, which happened to be a carved, downsized rendition of a Native American totem pole. She grasped it tightly in her fist and held it up, ready to swing away if he came anywhere near her. “Who are you?” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “What are you doing here?” She got up on her knees, preparing herself in case he tried to attack.

  He was sitting in a heap on the floor, cradling the eye she had belted, and he glanced up at her with a pained, bewildered expression. She drew in a breath that was so far past a gasp that she wheezed. The hand clutching the totem pole started to shake uncontrollably at the sight that met her eyes.

  His entire body looked like it was glowing and his wavy, shoulder-l
ength hair was made up of variations of red and orange. Crimson, amber, and gold all interspersed like he'd had some really expensive highlights put in. But all of that could be overlooked. It was the two large, red-orange wings flaming out from his shoulders that really did her in. They didn't look like feathers. They looked like fire.

  She let out a wavering whimper and instinctively glanced to where her statue had been. It was no longer there. She screamed again for good measure and her heart started to pound even harder.

  He winced. “Where am I?” he murmured.

  "Where are you?” she bellowed. “Where am I? The freaking Twilight Zone?” She brandished her totem pole even higher, gripping it with both hands like a baseball bat.

  His amber-colored eyebrows drew together in a frown. “The Twilight Zone? I am unfamiliar with that realm."

  Her eyelids spasmed, and she shook her head. “You're unfamiliar with that realm?"

  He frowned harder and glanced around the room. “Please, who are you?"

  "Who am I? Who are you?” she screamed, and it seemed like repeating everything he said was the only thing she was capable of doing at the moment. That and gripping her wooden weapon like her life depended on it.

  He flinched again at the volume of her voice. “I'm Gabriel,” he said, his voice never rising above a soft, velvety tone.

  Her eyes widened and she stared at him for a moment. “Like the angel?” she squeaked.

  He looked up at her. “What? I'm not an angel. I'm an Elemental” He cast another confused glance around the room. “Tell me, am I in Algoria?"

  "Al-whatthewho? No, you're in Ireland!” She was still fairly yelling the information at him.

  "Ire-what?"

  "Ireland. You know, Europe! Planet Earth!” She shook the totem pole at him.

  He looked so confused that she thought she might have to smack him, but then a slow look of realization crossed his flawless features, followed by one of horror. “I'm in the human realm?” he whispered.

  "Yes! The human realm."

  He held his hand up as if doing so might ease the force of her volume. “Why are you screaming at me?"

  "Because six hours ago, you were a work of art! What are you doing here?"

  "I don't know,” he stated emphatically.

  "But you're not human?” She lowered her totem pole just slightly, clutching it to her chest instead of brandishing it at him. He wasn't making any threatening moves toward her, but she wasn't going to take any chances.

  "I'm an Elemental,” he repeated. “I'm made up of the four elements. Fire, wind, water, earth. My body is human because humans are made up all the components of earth."

  She pointed at him. “But you look like fire."

  He nodded. “It is my element of choice, but I can change if I wish. Please, I'm sorry that I frightened you."

  He met her eyes and she stared at him for a good, long time. He looked disoriented, lost, and confused. It made her heart reach out to him, even when her mind refused to wrap around this situation in any kind of logical way. After several moments of her brain and heart wrestling with one another, Autumn just decided it would be best to accept the situation and try to deal with it. She couldn't deny that he was there, however unreal it may have seemed, and years of living with Uncle Sal had taught her to embrace the unexpected and bizarre.

  Slowly, she lowered her totem pole and her heart began to slow its pace. She let out a shaky breath and pushed herself off the bed, approaching him tentatively. “Your name is Gabriel?"

  He nodded as she came to sit cross-legged in front of him.

  "How did you get here, Gabriel?"

  He shook his head, which sent tendrils of his multicolored hair falling roguishly around his face. “I don't know.” He met her gaze with a desperation that stabbed at her heart. “When I was a youth, war ravaged my homeland. My people were scattered to the four winds. I was separated from them. For many years, I traveled the realm, but I could never find my people. Then, one day, I started to get cold, unbearably cold, until the only way I could handle it was to sleep. That's the last thing I remember, until I awoke here ... with you."

  She stared at him, at a loss for what to say. She finally settled for the only thing that came to mind, which also happened to be completely stupid. “I'm sorry I decked you in the eye."

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy, lopsided smile, and his eyes filled with a measure of warmth. “I've suffered worse."

  She twisted her fingers in uncertainty as the silence stretched out between them. “Uh ... well, are you hungry? You want something to eat or drink?” Being a hostess was a good choice. Nice and safe. Still stupid, though.

  His brows drew together and he pursed his lips in an expression that looked crossed between confusion and pain. “I ... ache,” he stated.

  "You ache? Like a stomach ache? A headache?"

  His frown deepened and he glanced up at her. “No. Here.” He put his hand on his chest, over his heart.

  She drew in a soft breath and stared at him, her heart breaking at his mournful expression. “You're sad?"

  He gave a slight nod. “And empty ... alone."

  His words stabbed at her, for she remembered what she had said to him before she'd gone to sleep. “You're lonely?” she queried softly.

  He nodded again, then shook his head in frustration. “I'm sorry. Forgive my foolish words. My mind is clouded."

  She gave him a gentle smile. “No, it's okay. I understand. This must be just as weird for you as it is for me. Besides, lord only knows how long you were ... well, stone."

  He said nothing more, just sat there, hunched, looking lost and isolated, nothing like the proud, commanding statue he had been. Autumn let her gaze rake over his fantastic physique, all hard lines and sculpted angles. Instinct had her reaching out to touch him, but she hesitated. She was curious, wanted to see if his glowing skin was hot like it looked, but that was very forward, and the man was not a science experiment. He didn't need to be poked and prodded because he was foreign to her.

  Gabriel's gaze slid up to hers and he glanced at where her hand was poised in mid air. He slowly lifted his own and mimicked her position, facing his palm toward her. He gave her a look that was as uncertain as she was sure hers was. It brought a small smile to her lips. Maybe he was just as curious about her.

  She extended her hand forward until her palm lightly touched his. That delicious warmth from her dream coursed along her skin and down her arm, making her suck her breath in and pull away.

  "I'm sorry, am I too hot? Did I burn you?"

  He both looked and sounded extremely concerned and she giggled at his choice of words. Too hot was an understatement. She shook her head and placed her palm back on his. “No, you just surprised me."

  "I frighten you."

  He still sounded so sad and it made a lump rise in her throat. She shook her head and met his eyes. “No, Gabriel, you don't frighten me. You're just ... different. I'm not sure what you are, and I have no idea what to do with you. But you're not alone."

  He regarded her with his burning, baleful eyes.

  "I'll figure this out,” she declared with more conviction than she actually felt. “I promise.” What was she going to do? She had no idea, but she couldn't just kick him out of her home and let him wander around the European countryside. He'd scare the living crap out of everyone and then the government would think he was an alien and do tests on him.

  She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut for a second, wishing with everything in her that Uncle Sal was still alive. He would know what to do.

  "You ache, too."

  His voice was warm, soothing, and gentle. It chased away the wave of grief she was feeling with a wave of something else entirely. She looked back up at him and forced a smile. “I'm all right,” she said, lying.

  He kept his palm to hers and stared into her eyes for one intense moment. “You're not alone either."

  Tears stung her eyes and she fought a shiver. He
was, by far, the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Maybe he didn't make sense. Maybe he freaked her out on the highest level. Maybe he went against all the rational laws of her universe. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. At that moment, he was a companion. And he was just as lonely, if not more so, than her.

  "I'm Autumn."

  His captivating mouth curved in a smile that lit up his face and made his eyes sparkle. He dipped his head slightly. “It is my privilege and extreme honor to meet you, Autumn."

  Tingles worked throughout her body, and she turned her attention back to where their hands still touched. Slowly, she twined her fingers with his, unable to stop herself, and he responded in like kind. Warmth spread up her arm, and he closed his eyes in something close to rapture. If it was possible, Autumn almost felt a sizzling current run between them, seductive and electric. It made her shiver despite the warmth of his touch, and closing her eyes, she tried to will her heart to beat normally.

  A sudden, extreme, and howling wind sounded outside, rattling the glass in the windows. Autumn opened her eyes and frowned, then jumped as a flash of lightning illuminated the darkness. She glanced back at Gabriel, who yanked his hand away and turned his full attention to the window. He sat up straight, alert and focused.

  She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but tremendous pounding on the front door made her already frayed nerves spasm. She put her hand to her chest as her heart made a somersault and she rolled her eyes. “Good grief. Who could that be at this hour?” She pushed herself into a standing position and looked at Gabriel, who still had his attention on the window. “I'll be right back. Stay here."

  She ran downstairs because the pounding was insistent. She pulled the heavy door open and let out a squeak of surprise as torrential rain barraged the countryside, sending cold, wet sprays of water her direction. She blinked in bewilderment to see Curtis standing there, completely drenched and looking really irritated.