Mythe: A Fairy Tale (37 page)

“Please, sweetie, tell me what’s wrong?” he pleaded. “Are you hurt?”

“It was dark,” she finally choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t find you, and...the claws... and...”

Richard pulled her into his arms and stroked a hand up and down her back soothingly. “It was a dream. It’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetie. It was just a dream. It’s not surprising after what you’ve been through.”

Manda fought to control her tears as Richard held her protectively in his arms. It had just been a dream, but the horror of it remained in her mind, as did the terrible feeling of being lonely, adrift, and helpless. And the pain. She thought she could almost feel the claws tearing her throat. She moaned miserably.

“You’re hurting again, aren’t you?” Richard asked anxiously. Manda nodded mutely. “I’ll get your pain meds.” But Manda clung to him, not allowing him to go. He held her until her breathing calmed and then leaned away slightly. “I promise I’ll only be gone two seconds.” He pulled Manda’s arms from around his neck and placed her trembling hands in her lap. He stood and dashed into the sitting room, returning before Manda had a chance to really realize he was gone. He handed her the glass of water from the nightstand and shook two pills into his hand from a small amber bottle. “Take these. They’ll help.”

Manda reached out an unsteady hand for the pills and swallowed them both with one gulp of water. She handed the glass back to Richard, who returned it to the nightstand.

“Those will take a little while to work. Where does it hurt the most?” Richard asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and stroking her hair with his fingers. The light shining through the door to the sitting room was the only illumination, backlighting Richard and throwing his face into shadow. He was bare from the waist up, wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms.

Manda tried to assess the pain and determine where she hurt. Her arm burned fiercely. That seemed to be the sharpest, most intense pain. Her ankle throbbed and her side was sore where she’d injured her ribs, but those pains were only slightly worse than the pervasive ache that wracked every other part of her body. Every move she made caused the pain to flare.

“My arm hurts the worst,” Manda answered honestly, not mentioning the fact that the other pains, taken as a whole, came close to blotting out the pain in her arm. There was nothing Richard could do about it, and hopefully the pain pills would help.

“Let me look at it,” Richard said, turning on the lamp. Manda blinked in the sudden brightness, shielding her eyes with her right hand. She heard Richard’s hissing intake of breathe as her sleeve slid down toward the elbow of her raised arm. He grasped her hand tenderly and pulled it down while his brow furrowed in distress. “Oh, Manda,” he murmured softly.

Manda looked at her right arm, which he held gently. The bandage swathed most of her forearm, but what was visible was black and blue. Surprised, she pushed the sleeve up higher to reveal another large bruise on her bicep. Richard released her arm and examined her more closely, his face darkening as he did. Manda followed his progress with dismay. He pushed her other sleeve up carefully to reveal a left arm that was as mottled as her right, and then slid the collar of her v-necked shirt to the side, exposing her left shoulder and collarbone, both of which were discolored as well. Lifting her shirt slightly, he examined her midsection and closed his eyes. Manda craned her neck and pulled her shirt closer to her body so she could see past it to what was causing his reaction. The entire left side of her torso was bruised. The dark splotchy skin extended down her hip and disappeared under the waistband of her pajamas.

“Where do you really hurt, Manda?” Richard demanded in a hard-edged voice with his eyes still closed.

“All over,” she admitted reluctantly. “It hurts to move at all.”

“No wonder you weren’t sleeping well. I should have made you take the pain pills,” he declared roughly.

Manda bridled. “That’s not up to you. You can’t
make
me take anything I don’t want, so you should just get that out of your head right now.”

Richard’s eyes opened to narrow slits. “If you think I’m just going to sit back and watch you suffer unnecessarily, you are sadly mistaken, Manda,” he shot back in a tight voice.

Manda sighed and then winced as the deep breath caused the pain in her side to ignite. Richard was immediately solicitous, arranging her pillows and carefully easing her into a semi-reclining position on them.

“I’m not asking you to do that, Richard,” she said more gently, as he cradled her left hand in both of his. “I’m saying that you can
ask
me to do things, even argue with me about it, but you can’t
make
me do anything and so you aren’t responsible for my actions—or their consequences. I am. I’m a big girl. If I make stupid decisions, that’s my right and my fault.” Manda thought that perhaps the pain was abating a little. She didn’t know if it was the medication working or if she was just distracted. “And you’re right. I
should
have taken the pills before. I didn’t realize it would be so bad,” she admitted truthfully.

“I didn’t either,” Richard conceded. “I’ve never been hurt like that. When we get hurt we just heal ourselves. I haven’t had so much as a bruise since I was a kid.”

“So that part wasn’t a dream.” Manda was intrigued and eager for a further distraction from the pain. “You can heal anything?” she asked curiously.

“Anything,” Richard confirmed, “as long as we’re conscious and can shift that is. Every time we transform we resume perfect health—no illness, no injury. I haven’t been to the doctor since I started shifting.”

Once again, questions flooded Manda’s mind and she wanted to ask them all at once. She started with the one that concerned her most.

“So, can you die?” She shuddered at the thought.

Richard smiled slightly. “Yes, we are human. We can die. It’s just a lot harder to kill us. If we’re unconscious we’re at risk, because we can’t change form unless we’re coherent.”

“So, your mind controls the change?”

“Exactly. As someone once said, ‘It is the mind that makes the body.’ We have to visualize what we want to become in order to shift. It takes some practice at first, but after a while it’s sort of a reflex.”

“When did you start changing?” Manda asked, fascinated.

“We start sometime during adolescence. I started when I was fourteen. It takes a couple of years before you can shift reliably though, with your body changing so quickly.” Richard seemed to be enjoying her interest, relieved no doubt that she was curious rather than horrified.

“How many different things can you become?” Manda inquired.

“I don’t know. I lost count. I’ve collected more forms than Josh, though. More forms than Josh but less than my parents, how’s that for a ballpark figure?” Richard smiled.

“You mentioned your parents before, that they were both shapeshifters, uh... What was the word Josh used?”

“Therianthropes?” Richard supplied.

“Yeah, therianthropes. You said they were both therianthropes. So how many of you are there?”

“Our parents are therianthropes, and so is our older brother of course, but I’m not sure how many others there are altogether. They’re scattered all over the world.”

“You have an older...? Wait! What do you mean, your parents
are
shapeshifters? I thought your parents were dead?” Manda demanded, startled.

Richard laughed. “No! I’m sorry, sweetie. You’ve actually met our parents. They loved you, by the way. They want me to bring you to visit.”

“I’ve met your parents? When was this?” Manda asked, baffled.

“Sarah and Daniel are our parents,” Richard informed her, grinning.

“Your
cousins
, Sarah and Daniel?” Manda squeaked in disbelief. Richard gave a smug nod. “But that’s impossible! They’re no older than you are!”

“Actually, they’re considerably older than I am,” Richard contradicted, more seriously. “That’s something I should explain. Whenever we shift, we assume what we call the ‘peak form’ of the animal. That means we take the form of the perfect expression of that animal’s genetic makeup. That’s the blueprint our body uses to assume a shape—the genetic code. The same is true when we shift back to our human form. Every time we shift back to our own shape we assume peak form—uninjured, optimum age, optimum fitness. That’s why we’re healed when we shift.”

“Optimum age? What does that mean? You don’t age?”

“Sure, we age just like anyone else, but when we change form it’s like hitting a reset button. Physically, we revert to our optimum age and start over again from there.”

Things started clicking in Manda’s mind and her eyes widened. “Exactly what is this optimum age?”

“The optimum age varies based on the individual. My parents, Sarah and Daniel, are maintaining their optimum age now—late twenties to early thirties. I haven’t really aged since I was 29, so that’s my optimum age. My parents stopped shifting and allowed themselves to grow older when they had Josh. It’s easier to raise children that way. They don’t want to keep moving around when we’re kids. It’s too unsettling. So they let themselves age. There are fewer questions that way. Then, when Josh was sixteen, they really
were
in a car wreck, and our mother was injured pretty badly. She had to shift completely, so she reverted to peak form. Dad decided to shift as well, to match her age. They’ve always been inseparable. Naturally they had to ‘die’ to the rest of the world. Josh was in the public eye already and they couldn’t very well show up 16 years younger.” Richard trailed off, noticing that Manda had become very still and quiet. “Manda, what’s wrong? What is it?” he asked warily.

“You haven’t aged since you were 29,” she whispered. “How old are you really?”

Richard hesitated, looking down at her hand as he held it. “In November I turned 68,” he answered quietly.

Manda suddenly had to struggle to breathe and she could feel the blood draining from her face. “You’re old enough to be my grandfather,” she choked. Her mind reeled. 68!

“Is that a problem?” Richard asked stiffly, obviously stung by her reaction.

“No. I…,” she faltered, stunned.

“My father is 186 and my mother is 140, Manda. Age doesn’t really mean much to us. Once you pass a century, a few decades are irrelevant. Besides, it gets hard to find someone your own age at that point.”

“Once you pass a century,” Manda repeated faintly. She tried to rally her chaotic emotions and think rationally. She’d reacted badly and had hurt and offended him. If it didn’t matter that he could turn into a lion, why should a simple thing like his age matter? He didn’t look or act any differently than he had when she thought he was 30. He was still just Richard. She squeezed his hand tightly and met his gaze.

”No. If you don’t think I’m too young for you, I don’t think you’re too old for me,” she told him, trying very hard to mean it.

“It does bother you though, doesn’t it?” Richard persisted. “You
do
think I’m too old for you.”

“No, that’s not it exactly,” Manda responded quickly and honestly, and then sighed heavily. “It’s just that I think I’m too young. It’s the story of my life. I’ve always been too young.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Richard disagreed. “You’re perfect.”

Manda took a deep breath, searching for the words to explain. “Did you know I never dated at all in high school?” she finally said, looking away from Richard’s probing gaze. “I wasn’t allowed to date until I was sixteen...and I graduated from high school three months after my sixteenth birthday. Not that anyone would have asked me out anyway. I was just the freaky little smart kid.” Manda plucked at the edge of the sheet with her free hand. “Then when I was in college I didn’t have many friends. I was still too young—just a kid—and I didn’t really fit in. Instead of a social life, I had a double course load. When I was a grad student and David was an undergrad, he
was one of the few people, besides the professors, who didn’t treat me like some little oddity. He’s a brilliant designer, you know? I think that’s why he didn’t treat me like I was a freak. He’s a freak too!” Manda smiled fleetingly. “And now that I finally thought I’d grown up and gotten past all that, here you are, all perfect and wonderful, and again I’m just this kid.” Manda traced the stitching on the comforter with her fingernail, still not meeting Richard’s eyes.

Richard placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to his, forcing her to look at him. “Manda, you are far from a kid. Believe me, I definitely don’t think of you that way. You’re a brilliant, intelligent, creative, insightful, funny, well-read woman who’s mature beyond her years. And you are beautiful and sexy and you haunt my dreams.” Manda blushed and tried to turn her head away, but Richard held her chin, refusing to let her. Instead, she lowered her lashes to avoid his intent gaze.

“Look at me, Manda,” he implored. When Manda didn’t look up he sighed. “Please?”

She reluctantly met his gaze. His brilliant blue eyes were piercing. “I’ve known how old you are for a while now, sweetie, and I love you. Nothing that’s happened in the last 24 hours has changed that. The question is how do you feel about me? Does my age...or anything else...change how you feel?”

Manda considered the question carefully. She loved Richard beyond all reason, that was a given, but did his age change anything? It didn’t change the way she felt about him. Nothing could change that. The only thing that was really different was that she now knew how old he was—and her own insecurities made her afraid he would see her as an immature child. But as he’d pointed out, he’d always known how old she was and it hadn’t matter to him so far. So, the answer was no, nothing had really changed. As she looked into Richard’s eyes, Manda’s doubts melted away.