Mythe: A Fairy Tale (64 page)

“It’ll be okay,” Mikey reassured Josh. “Don’t worry. He’ll snap out of it. Give him a little more time. You’ve done enough. It’s up to him now. Just give him a little more time. You look wiped out. When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t remember,” Josh sighed. Richard vaguely registered that his brother sounded exhausted.

“Go get some sleep. I’ll stay here with him for a while. You’re trying to do too much. You won’t do him any good if you use yourself up.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try to sleep. Wake me up if anything changes.”

Richard heard the door to Josh’s room close upstairs. Then Mikey was standing in front of him, arms folded across his chest.

“That’s enough Richard,” Mikey said, his voice low and harsh. “I know you’re hurting. That’s why I’ve let this go on longer than I should have, but now you’re hurting Josh. He loves you and it’s tearing him up seeing you like this. Pull yourself together. Your little brother needs you.”

Richard looked up at him then and Mikey continued more gently. “I know it’s not easy, and I can’t even tell you how sorry I am, but you can’t just quit. You can’t quit on Josh, you can’t quit living, and you can’t quit on yourself.”

A new wave of guilt swept over Richard. Mikey was right. Josh needed him. He would never be able to atone for what he’d done to Manda, but he
could
try to be there for Josh. He didn’t want to fail him, too.

“You’re right,” Richard whispered, his voice rough from disuse. “I can’t quit on Josh.”

Mikey looked at him sadly, seeming about to say something else. Instead he just shook his head and walked away, leaving Richard alone.

After that Richard tried to be normal. He returned to his routine of rehearsals, recording sessions, he even tried writing songs again, but he couldn’t quite remember what normal had felt like and the mask was imperfect. Where he had once been charming but private, he was now aloof and unapproachable. Where before he had kept his emotions tightly controlled, now he seemed not to have any at all.

It was different when he performed though. All of his seemingly non-existent emotions flooded to the surface when he played or sang, threatening to overpower him. More than once he considered giving up performing in order to avoid the pain that overwhelmed him when he did. The numbness he experienced the rest of the time was better than that. No joy, but no anguish either. It was more than a fair trade-off, since he had no joy left anyway. But he knew he couldn’t do that. Josh needed him. He seldom sang though, and never any of the songs he’d written for Manda. That was beyond him.

Chapter 47

C
helsea showed up at Richard’s door three weeks into the tour. Richard had met her decades before. She’d been his older brother William’s lover around the time that Richard was coming of age. William hadn’t behaved as honorably as their parents had taught them to be. He had gotten her pregnant, transforming her, but when she lost the unborn child he had refused to marry her, though she begged him. When begging hadn’t worked, Chelsea had resorted to blackmail, still to no avail. William had soon fallen in love with and married Becky, and stopped
shifting, allowing his body to age and grow old with her. She’d died only a few years past. Richard hadn’t seen his elder brother in a decade or more.

Irrationally, soon after William and Becky had married, Chelsea had transferred her obsessive affections onto Richard, who resembled a younger William and had always been kind to her. He’d been young and inexperienced, and not realizing the depth of Chelsea’s obsessive need, he’d tried to let her down gently, telling her he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship yet.  This, it turned out, had been his undoing.

Chelsea disappeared after that. Richard never saw her again. Eventually, he met a woman he was mildly attracted to, Kim, and began to pursue a friendship with her. Knowing the repercussions of any serious involvement with a woman for someone like him, he didn’t approach such relationships lightly, but this was, in a very real way, a casual relationship. It had never been a love affair. It had never been an affair of any kind. He never deluded himself that he was in love with her, nor did she ever give any indication that she considered him any more than a good friend. They enjoyed each other’s company, that was all, and had gone out on a long series of platonic dates before the note arrived.

Kim found it on her pillow one night after coming home from a movie with Richard. The threat had been clear and explicit. “Stay away from Richard or I will kill you.” The blankets and sheets on Kim’s bed had been shredded, apparently by a very sharp knife. Kim, knowing nothing of Richard’s secret, had been shocked and bewildered. She’d immediately called the police, but Richard had known without telling her that this was useless.

Richard
had
understood the message. He’d recognized the pattern of the torn sheets. It had been claws, not a knife that had caused the destruction. He broke off his relationship with Kim at once. It was much too dangerous for her. His father had immediately called Alexander Kastl. If a shapeshifter was making death threats, Kastl would want to know.

They weren’t able to find anything initially, but as the years went by Richard would occasionally develop a friendship with a woman. It was never anything that could be considered a relationship, as he was always conscious of the possible risk, but if he exhibited even the vaguest semblance of interest in a woman, the notes would appear. Richard would immediately distance himself from the woman with whom he had crossed the invisible line. He always felt horribly guilty for the fear he caused these women and was more and more vigilant after each incident. He began to keep women at arm’s length, pleasant and charming to them, but distant. As Rain’s fame had grown and women began to pursue him incessantly, his aloofness made him seem unattainable, and therefore even more desirable...a conquest that some women were determined to make. But he had never met anyone to bridge the distance with which he surrounded himself...until Manda.

Every time Richard got too close to someone and a note appeared—what Richard considered his lapses—Kastl and his colleagues gathered more clues, more pieces to the puzzle. Eventually they assembled enough of the pieces to decipher the mystery. Chelsea. Chelsea was stalking Richard, obsessed with him. They finally knew who was responsible and Richard had hoped he would have his life back soon. This turned out to be a vain hope.

There was no better stalker in the world than a shapeshifter. Knowing who she was did them no good, for even though they were careful not to let on that they knew who was responsible, they simply couldn’t find her. Their only hope was to be on guard and try to snare her if and when she once again felt Richard was getting attached to another woman. Richard, for his part, never intended to give her any cause for jealousy again. It simply wasn’t worth putting an innocent woman in danger in that way. He’d certainly never intended for Manda to become her target.

He’d been surprised by Manda, and by his response to her. She’d seemed so young and naïve that he hadn’t had his guard up. Beautiful young girls hadn’t been his taste. He preferred someone more mature. He was almost seven decades old, after all. Inexperienced children didn’t hold any appeal. He hadn’t realized at first that she was no little girl, and his connection with her was so natural and easy that his attraction to her had grown before he realized what was happening. He’d fooled himself into thinking that it was Josh who was falling for her. When understanding finally
dawned on him it was too late—he was already in love. He’d tried to distance himself from her then, but it was impossible.

Everyone else had known his feelings for Manda long before he had, which meant that Chelsea must have know as well, since she had watched him longer and closer than anyone else. No notes had come, though. He knew Chelsea must have been enraged and so the very lack of any overt threats terrified him. He couldn’t let himself believe that perhaps she was gone. She’d been lurking in the dark corners of his life for far too long. He suspected that Chelsea’s break from her usual pattern had much more ominous implications.

As a result, rather than pulling away from Manda, Richard found himself drawn closer, trying to protect her. He watched her every minute he possibly could, shifting into whatever form would allow him to follow her, entrusting her safety to Kastl and Josh when he couldn’t be there himself. After he’d finally revealed his secret to her and she rebelled under his constant vigilance, he’d been forced to back off, not wanting to tell her the reason behind what she considered his overprotectiveness. He didn’t want her to suffer the constant fear that plagued him. Unable to shadow her every move, and forbidden from sending Josh either, he’d almost gone mad with worry. He charged Kastl with her protection then, depending on him to guard her whenever he could not.

“Promise me you’ll keep her safe,” Richard had demanded.

“I’ll watch her every minute,” Kastl replied, reassuringly.

“Promise me!” Richard had demanded through clenched teeth, his fear for Manda pushing him past the bounds of reason.

Kastl had met his eyes steadily. “I’ll protect her with my life. I swear to you, I’ll keep her safe, whatever it takes.”

Kastl had not kept that promise. Richard hadn’t seen him since that failure, but the nightmare that plagued Richard continually reminded him that it was he, not Kastl, who was to blame—the nightmare that almost nightly jolted him from sleep in a cold sweat and painted dark circles around his haunted eyes. In his dark dream Richard relived the moments before Manda’s death, as he cradled her ravaged body in his arms and her blood pooled on the ground around him. So much blood. The moment he would jerk awake in horror came when he looked down at his hands as they cradled her and realized that they were the blood soaked claws of a tiger—the claws that had torn her apart. He never told anyone about the dreams, but he was sure Josh and Mikey both knew he wasn’t sleeping well, and that they suspected nightmares were the reason.

Chapter 48

I
t was Mikey who told Richard that Chelsea had not been the killer. It was soon after Richard had dragged himself back into a rough approximation of living after the week of darkness that followed Manda’s death.

“Manda saw the face of the girl who attacked her and it wasn’t Chelsea. She sent someone else. The agent who found Manda in the bathroom said a sparrow flew out when she opened the door and Manda’s description was fairly clear. It wasn’t Chelsea.”

Richard’s face paled and he struggled to speak. “She gave a description?”

“I guess those were pretty much her last words. There wasn’t much time,” Mikey answered, “but she always did have an eye for detail. They were able to get enough for this.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Richard. It was a computer generated composite of a girl’s face. It was a much more realistic photographic recreation than the primitive sketches often displayed on television news programs. The face in the picture was long and narrow, but coarse. The lips were thin and the nose wide. The light brown hair was thin and straight.

Richard handed the picture back to Mikey. He filed away the image of the girl in his mind…for the future.

“We all know that Chelsea was behind it,” he pressed. “Find her!”

“We don’t think we need to go out looking for her. We think she’ll come to us. Well, we think she’ll come to you anyway.”

“Why would she do that? She never has before.”

“She’s hurt you. Now she’ll want to take advantage of that. The first time she was...well, jilted I suppose she would consider it...the first time, she continued to try and win back your brother. She refused to let go of him until she transferred her focus onto you. She’s obviously still fixated on you, so now we think she’ll try to take advantage of your...emotional state...sorry,” he had glanced apologetically at Richard, “to develop a relationship with you, to get from you the love she feels you owe her.”

Richard had curled his lips into a vicious ssnarl. “If she comes within ten feet of me I’ll kill her myself.”

“As satisfying as that might be, you can’t do that,” had been Mikey’s level response. “We need to catch them
both
. Chelsea won’t know that you’re aware of her involvement. She’ll probably try to console and comfort you. Let her.” His voice grew more urgent. “I know it won’t be easy, but if you want Manda’s killers to pay for what they’ve done, you have to be convincing! This could be our only chance to catch the one who actually killed her. If Chelsea trusts you she’ll let down her guard. Like I said, she doesn’t know that anyone suspects her of anything. We can find the girl if you can keep Chelsea close.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Richard had growled. “It will be all I can do not to rip her apart. How can I pretend to be in love with her? It’s impossible.”

“You don’t have to make her think you’re in love with her. She wouldn’t believe that anyway, not after… Well, not now. Just don’t push her away. You have to do this Richard! It’s the only way we’ll ever be able to catch the girl who killed Manda. Remember that. Do it for Manda.”

In the end Richard had agreed. He hadn’t been surprised when he opened his door to find Chelsea there, playing the role of an old friend offering condolences. He couldn’t bring himself to show any warmth or smile at her. He was barely civil, but she didn’t seem to notice. If he was being honest with himself, he was barely more than civil to anyone these days, mostly responding to everyone but Josh with moody silence.