Honey Wine Read online

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  Amira Press

  www.amirapress.com

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

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  Honey Wine

  Copyright © July 2009, Brieanna Robertson

  Cover art by Anastasia Rabiyah © July 2009

  Amira Press, LLC

  Baltimore, MD 21216

  www.amirapress.com

  ISBN: 978-1-935348-49-8

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Amira Press.

  Chapter One

  The Complete Guide to Understanding the Mythical and Paranormal Creatures Commonly Occurring, but Rarely Found, In Our World, Volume 4 by Dr. Lawrence Lowenstein.

  Autumn peered at the cover of the old book incredulously. It was thicker than the Bible and had been thumbed through so many times that the pages were yellowed and frayed. Many were dog-eared, with her uncle's notations in the margins.

  With a weary sigh, she flung the book aside. It landed among where she had already thrown Volumes One, Two and Three. “Sorry, Dr. Lowenstein,” she muttered, “but there just isn't room for you in my new bed-and-breakfast.” She stood and dusted her hands off on her pants as she moved over to the bookshelf. She hauled another armload of books down and carted them back to her spot on the floor. “Good lord, Uncle Sal,” she said, dropping the load onto the hardwood. “How many paranormal creature handbooks does one man need?” The more important question would be how many paranormal creatures were supposed to actually exist in the world? According to Dr. Lowenstein, at least four volumes’ worth.

  Autumn sat back down and started to flip through the new stack. At this rate, it would be the turn of the century before she finished sorting through all of her uncle's belongings.

  Sal Jasper had been a world renowned historian, as well as a much adored professor at Oxford. Unfortunately, Autumn's crazy uncle had also had a bit of a preoccupation with mythology and lore. And he'd apparently thought he was Indiana Jones. So when Autumn had gotten the call a month ago at four in the morning that her only living relative had been eaten by a hippo out in the middle of the African wilderness, she'd been upset, but not all that surprised. Uncle Sal had been her guardian from age thirteen up. During her teenage years alone, he'd almost been killed at least a dozen times. It was amazing to her that he had lasted as long as he had. And if he had to go, at least gored and eaten by a hippo was memorable. That was how Uncle Sal had always wanted to leave the world. “Dramatic and memorable” was what he'd always said.

  Uncle Sal had been living in Ireland at the time of his death, and being as how Autumn was his only family, he'd left everything he owned to her. She'd flown from the States to sort through his things and had instantly fallen in love with his home. It was nothing short of a castle, really. Gothic, medieval, historic, definitely Uncle Sal. She'd had no idea what an aspiring restaurant owner was going to do with a castle, but after giving it some thought, she'd realized she could turn it into a bed-and-breakfast. There were definitely enough rooms, and it would make for an awesome tourist attraction. She had plans to make the whole thing historical, have all the employees dress up in medieval garb, and treat all the guests like ladies and lords.

  But before she could do any of that, she had to sort through Uncle Sal's treasure trove of bizarre possessions. She'd already found an entire collection of shrunken heads; some sort of sick, stuffed dog-thing that was supposed to be a chupacabra; enough alien paraphernalia to make the CIA suspicious; and so many strange books she didn't know what to do with them all. She'd loved her uncle, very much, but going through his things was painful on more than one level.

  Autumn threw the book she'd been perusing back into the “to go” pile and stood up, deciding to leave the books for a while. There were a billion other things she could sort through. The books were giving her a headache. She started toward the far side of the room, intent on removing the two lines of African tribal masks from the wall. They were giving her the creeps.

  She passed by her uncle's desk on the way and paused. There was a framed picture of the two of them when he had flown out for her college graduation. She picked it up and studied it, tears gathering in her eyes. Uncle Sal had been the only family she'd had after her parents had died in a car accident. He'd been eccentric and zany, and even a little bit nutty sometimes, but he'd always supported her in everything, and she had loved him tremendously. She felt his absence like a hole in her heart.

  With a sigh, she set the picture back down and returned to the task at hand. She removed most of the masks with little trouble, but the second to last had let loose a cloud of dust that she inhaled as she tried to take down the last one. She sneezed violently, causing her to drop the mask, which crashed down on top of her head and sent her black, square-framed glasses skittering across the floor.

  She sneezed three more times, rubbed the spot on her head where the mask had conked her, and went to retrieve her glasses. As she bent to pick them up, she noticed something extremely large lodged into a dark corner of the room. She frowned, shoved her glasses back on, and looked over the discovery.

  It had to be somewhere around six feet tall, maybe taller, and it was covered with a large, white sheet. Curious, she grabbed the end of the sheet and flipped it over the object. More dust exploded into the air, which caused her to choke and wheeze and stumble back in order to avoid it. She fanned at the cloud, and when the dust finally settled, she sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly.

  "Whoa,” she murmured.

  It was an enormous stone statue of a man, but not just any ordinary man. This guy was so detailed she almost expected him to start moving. He stood proud and powerful, wearing something resembling a loin cloth and nothing else. Every inch of his body had been chiseled in muscular perfection, and his face was absolutely breathtaking. The artist must have taken great care with it. It was nearly flawless in its beauty. A strong jaw, full lips, straight nose, high cheekbones. He even had a small cleft in his chin. His hair was carved in intricate, subtle waves that rested at his shoulders, and from his shoulder blades were the two most amazing wings she had ever seen. For a second, she thought maybe he was supposed to be a rendition of some kind of angel, but upon closer inspection, she realized that the wings weren't typical.

  Most angel statues tended to have very straightforward, feathered wings, like swans. These seemed to span out at a slightly lateral angle, and the feathers were more wispy and intricate. They were graceful and elegant, like feathered flames.

  Autumn shook her head but couldn't bring herself to look away from the mesmerizing statue. The thing that intrigued her the most was the fact that he didn't even have a pedestal to stand on. He'd been created to stand on his own, like a person, two feet firmly on the ground. She wondered how in the world it had lasted this long without falling over. Maybe that's why her uncle had kept it in the corner.

&nb
sp; She blew out a long, slow whistle. “Man, aren't you beautiful. Someone must have really loved you to put so much detail into you.” She reached her hand out and placed it on the sculpture's forearm, running her fingers along the lines of muscle. She smiled. “Too bad you're made of stone, right?” She giggled, feeling silly in a delightful kind of way. She rolled her eyes and leaned in like she was having a conversation with the statue. “I know, I know. I'm a geek. No need to tell me what I already realize. I didn't stand a chance growing up with Uncle Sal."

  Just then, a loud knock sounded from downstairs and made Autumn jump. She let go of the statue and frowned toward the door of the office, wondering who would even know she was there.

  Dusting her hands on her pants once again, she strode out of the room, down the long corridor, and descended the stone staircase. She pulled the heavy front door open to reveal a tall, somewhat gangly young man with dark, immaculately placed hair and wire-rimmed glasses.

  He flashed her a bright, nervous smile. “Hello!” he greeted cheerfully.

  Autumn arched an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. “Um, hi."

  "You're Autumn Jasper, right?” he queried, his accent very British. “Professor Jasper's niece?"

  She frowned and nodded. “Yeah, why? Who are you?"

  He grinned again and extended his hand. “I'm Curtis Jenkins. I was your uncle's apprentice. I'm so sorry for your loss. Professor Jasper was a remarkable man."

  She shook his hand, but still felt confused. “Apprentice? For what?” The thought of her uncle training anyone in anything at all made her somewhat squeamish. He may have been brilliant, but he'd met his end by a hippo for crying out loud.

  "Oh, well, I was one of his students at Oxford, and we shared a love of mythology and such...” He glanced up at Autumn with a guarded expression, as if he was afraid of revealing too much.

  Autumn rolled her eyes. “Oh, you mean you're a paranormal freak, too?"

  He let out a breathy laugh and blushed a faint pink. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Professor Jasper was teaching me about the different kinds of creatures, the legends and the myths and so forth."

  She waved her hand. “Right, right. Well, I have about eight gazillion manuals on every paranormal creature known to man in here, as well as a stuffed chupacabra if you want them."

  Curtis's smile faded and he stared at Autumn in something close to sorrowful shock. “You're getting rid of Chewy?"

  She frowned. “Chewy? You trying to tell me you named the chupacabra? Or did my uncle manage to find out where Wookies lived?"

  Curtis shrugged self consciously and gave her a shy smile. “It was my idea, actually. And, no, we never did find any Wookies. I'm sure they exist, though."

  Autumn couldn't stop her smile. “I'm sure you'll find them some day. Just use the force.” She put her hand up in the “Live Long and Prosper” sign.

  Curtis burst out laughing and shook his head. “Wrong alien race. That's from Star Trek."

  Autumn glanced at her fingers, still poised in the sign, and wrinkled her brow.

  "That's from the Vulcans,” Curtis continued. “Completely different sci-fi universe."

  "Oh.” She dropped her hand with a sigh and shrugged. “Well, that shows how much I know.” She shoved her hands in her back pockets and smiled at Curtis. “At any rate, I really do have a ton of stuff I need to move along. I'm planning on turning the castle into a bed-and-breakfast. Can't exactly do that with aliens and goblins hanging around to freak out all the customers. If you want to come in and take a look, I'd be more than happy to let you have most of it."

  Curtis's eyes lit up like a little kid at Christmas. “Sure! I'd be honored to have some of Professor Jasper's things."

  Autumn's heart filled with warmth at Curtis's obvious enthusiasm. At least she knew her uncle's possessions would be going to someone who would love them as much as he had. She stepped away from the door and motioned Curtis inside. “Most of the stuff is up in Uncle Sal's office,” she said, heading toward the staircase. She glanced back over her shoulder with a smile. “But I imagine you knew that already."

  Curtis nodded as he hurried after her. “Oh yes, Professor Jasper and I spent many nights in there, poring over books and trying to find leads."

  She frowned. “Leads?"

  "Yes, Professor Jasper had decided he'd had enough with merely doing research about the creatures that are rumored to exist. He wanted to find them for himself. He said he was getting too old to sit cooped up in a room looking at dusty books."

  Curtis went quiet, and Autumn turned to face him as they entered the office. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders sadly. “That was what he was doing in Africa. He'd gone on an expedition to find a creature from the local lore. I wanted to go with him, but he said I wasn't ready yet, that it was too dangerous.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “Maybe if I'd been there..."

  Autumn sighed, and her heart softened at the distraught look on Curtis's face. She put her hand on his shoulder in consolation. “If you'd been there, you would have been the hippo's dessert. What happened to Uncle Sal was a tragedy, but he knew what he was getting into. He was always a daredevil adventurer.” She forced a smile even though emotion clogged her throat. “At least he died doing what he loved."

  Curtis nodded and sniffed, blinking back tears that had gathered in his eyes. “How come you never followed in his footsteps? He always bragged about how brilliant you are. I imagine you two could have been unstoppable. Probably could have found Wookies, too."

  She laughed and shook her head. “My uncle was biased, and unlike him, I do not have a preoccupation with the strange and bizarre things of the world. I have a degree in business. I want to own a restaurant. The only reason I'll ever go to Africa is if there's some kind of rare spice that will make the food I serve more appealing to my customers."

  He smiled. “I imagine it was weird for you to grow up in this kind of environment.” He swept his arm around to indicate the room full of oddities.

  She shrugged. “Nah, it was just home, y'know?” She caught Curtis's eye and smiled.

  He gave her a boyish, bashful grin and averted his gaze to the ground. “Well, I'm sure Professor Jasper would be honored that you're going to turn his home into something that will help you accomplish your dreams. All he ever talked about was you and how proud he was of you."

  Emotion clogged her throat again, and she waved her hand as tears stung her eyes. “All right, Curtis, come on. I've cried enough already. Don't make me start again. Let's get going on some of this stuff."

  He snapped to attention and saluted playfully. “Aye, aye, Sir!"

  Autumn smirked and got down to the business at hand, sorting through the remaining books and things strewn about the office. Curtis was friendly and easygoing, and she was happy for the company. They shared stories about her uncle, and the afternoon passed by much quicker than she had anticipated. After they'd managed to get through the entire bookcase, she stood and stretched her stiff back out with a groan.

  She glanced at the empty book shelf and sighed. “Man, I can't believe we got through that today. Thanks, Curtis. You're a life saver."

  He gave his shy smile again and shrugged self-consciously. “No problem. I'll start loading some of these things into my car so you can go and have some dinner.” He cleared his throat. “Have you been to any of the pubs around here? I could show you, if you wanted to go."

  Autumn raised an eyebrow and smirked playfully. “Are you asking me out, Curtis?"

  His face turned a bright shade of red, and he looked away. “Oh, uh, no, I was just ... I just thought maybe you'd be hungry and..."

  She laughed softly at his obvious embarrassment. “Maybe some other time. I'm really tired and think I'm just going to stay in tonight."

  He nodded, and he darted his eyes around the room as if searching for anything to get him away from the current topic of conversation. He pointed over to the pile of tribal masks on the flo
or. “Hey, can I have a couple of those?"

  "Go for it. They give me the willies."

  He headed toward the pile and started to gather a few of the masks up in his arms when his gaze strayed to the corner of the room. He sucked in his breath and stood abruptly, dropping the masks to the floor. “Bloody hell!"

  Autumn frowned over at him. “What?"

  He cleared his throat loudly and stole a sidelong glance over at her. “Oh, uh ... I didn't know that Professor Jasper had one of these."

  "Oh, that statue?” She went over to him and glanced over at the stone man. “Yeah, it's cool, huh? So much detail."

  "Yeah.” He worked his bottom lip with his teeth for a few seconds, then cleared his throat again. “I can, uh, take that off of your hands too, if you like."

  She scowled furiously. “No way! I actually like this one. You can help me lug it to my room, though. I want to clean it up a little bit."

  "Uhh...” His voice wavered and he scratched at the back of his head. “Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't it freak out your customers? He looks almost real and all."

  She snorted and gave him a questioning look. His voice had gone up in pitch and was sort of screeching like a pubescent teen. “Um, yeah, that's why I like it. And it's not going to freak out my customers if I keep it in my room. Come on, give me a hand. I'll give myself a hernia if I try to cart it down the hall all by myself."

  He swallowed audibly and scratched at his head some more.

  Autumn raised an eyebrow at his hesitance. “What's with you? You afraid of stone?” She reached over and knocked on the statue's chest. Curtis winced. “He's not going to bite you. Come on. You take the head, I'll take the feet.” She went around to the statue and started to tip it over, giving Curtis no choice but to catch it before it fell. He looked pained as they toted it down the hallway to her bedroom, but she got the feeling it had nothing to do with physical exertion.

  They set it upright close by the fireplace, and Autumn stood back and brushed off her hands, admiring the statue's beauty even more now that it was out of the dingy corner. She smiled. “There, that wasn't so hard.” She shot Curtis a chastising look, but he was still gawking at the statue with a sort of queasy expression. “Are you all right?"