So he traveled even more. He stayed away from women, stayed away from people for the most part, trying other Kingdoms, and then finally coming to the Greater World, thinking that nothing could happen here.
And as far as he knew, nothing had.
Until this Fairy Tale Stalker. And for a few minutes when Jodi had told him about it, Blue actually worried that he could have done it. (More than a few minutes, if truth be told. A lot more.)
“Let’s go to my office,” Dr. Hargrove said in that voice he used when he expected to be listened to.
Blue looked down at him, this man who had worked so hard to keep Blue sane all these years. Doctor Hargrove was starting to get a bald spot on top of his curly head. His hair was mussed and he still had the coffee stain on his shirt. He wasn’t as young as he used to be.
But Dr. Hargrove had done a good job, better than he knew. The compassion he had shown was just enough of a lifeline to keep Blue from giving up on everything.
Because, as he had once said to Dr. Hargrove in complete despair, what was the point of a long life if a man couldn’t enjoy it? Doctor Hargrove had thought that Blue was talking about drinking, and how much he enjoyed drinking, but Blue hadn’t been. It took Blue a while to convince Dr. Hargrove that he was talking about obliviousness, and not remembering anything, and how difficult that was. Blue then said he came from a long-lived family, and he didn’t understand why, if he was going to spend this life in a worthless state of semi-consciousness, he should go on.
Doctor Hargrove understood that and tried to convince Blue his life would be better without the alcohol. But Blue hadn’t been talking about the alcohol. And even though Dr. Hargrove repeatedly asked Blue about the pain behind his addiction, Blue refused to talk about it.
He also refused to lie.
Now, Dr. Hargrove was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to lead the way to the office. The office was the place where Dr. Hargrove had complete control, where he ruled supreme. He also had easy access to security and lockdown procedures.
Blue had always come to this place as an addict seeking treatment, not as a psychiatric patient, but he was suddenly worried about California law on this subject. Because state-to-state committal laws were different, and sometimes someone who had voluntarily gone into a clinic couldn’t check himself out.
Blue knew that much. In the past, he hadn’t cared.
But today, he did.
“No,” he said. “I don’t want to go to the office. I’d like to talk here.”
Doctor Hargrove was frowning. He clearly hadn’t seen this side of Blue before. Blue was channeling his father, searching for the commanding part of his nature, a part that had been long buried. His father hadn’t always used charm when being regal. And Blue wasn’t using it now.
“There is no privacy here in the entry area,” Dr. Hargrove said. “We have no guarantee of confidentiality.”
He sounded concerned. He glanced at the meeting room door, then at the front doors. He pointedly did not look at the Eames chairs, because they would provide a place to talk.
Blue didn’t look at the chairs either. He glanced into the meeting room. Jodi was still in her chair. Her head was down. She was probably talking to Tank. Outside, Blue could see the mostly empty parking lot and a flock of seagulls swarming over the security guard’s station.
“I don’t expect privacy,” Blue said.
Doctor Hargrove stood as tall as he could. He didn’t look as put together as usual. But then, he wasn’t used to Blue rebelling.
Other patients rebelled. Blue never had. Not once in all the years he’d been coming here.
“Privacy is necessary,” Dr. Hargrove said. “If this goes into your record—”
“Doctor Hargrove,” Blue said in a tone he hadn’t used in centuries, if ever. Commanding, a bit too strong, but warm. He was somehow managing warmth. Or at least he hoped he was. “As I said, I had some difficult news from Ms. Walters. I’m going to need to check out of the facility to deal with it.”
He didn’t realize that had been his plan until he spoke it out loud. But he had to leave, if only for the short term. He couldn’t keep having meetings here, and he couldn’t deal with all the rules right now. He had to help Jodi and Tank get on the right track to stop the Fairy Tale Stalker, and more importantly, he had to figure out exactly what was wrong with him—who had cursed him and how. He had to get rid of that curse.
Before it killed Jodi.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Hargrove said. “You can’t leave. It’s too early in your treatment.”
“Nonetheless,” Blue said, “I have to. I’ll pay for the entire month in fees.”
“It’s not the fees I’m worried about, Blue,” Dr. Hargrove said. “You’ve been our guest almost a dozen times—”
Blue hated the use of the word “guest” in this context. He always had, but this time he let himself feel it. It was patronizing and incorrect. He wasn’t a guest. He was a patient.
“—and while we’ve made progress, it hasn’t been as much as I would like. I worry that if you leave to work on a crisis, you will stress your own recovery to the breaking point.”
In other words, he’d start drinking almost immediately.
It was a good concern, an accurate one for the Blue of the past who relied on the alcohol to protect him from himself—or from the curse, if what Jodi and Tank had said was true. It was also an accurate concern for the real addicts in this place, who used any excuse to return to the source of their addiction and often did not have the personal inner strength to deal with any kind of crisis.
But Blue had a different problem. He couldn’t even quite imagine telling Dr. Hargrove about it:
Excuse me, Doctor. I’m not concerned about the drinking. I only drink to prevent myself from murdering women that I love. Only now I’ve discovered that I didn’t kill those women. It was a curse all along.
Yeah. He was supposed to believe that. He didn’t quite believe it, although Tank did. And Tank was a hardheaded old soul. And Jodi, she said she could see his aura, that it was different today.
Last night, he hadn’t left the facility. Not physically, not mentally. He hadn’t blacked out, and they’d actually had him on surveillance video. He had been here. So something magical was up.
And that was what he couldn’t tell Dr. Hargrove.
“I promise,” Blue said, “once this crisis is resolved, I will check myself back in.”
Doctor Hargrove tilted his head, and Blue braced himself. This time, the response would be patronizing. And Blue wasn’t sure he blamed Dr. Hargrove. As Blue had spoken those words, he had heard how stupid they had sounded. Who checked themselves back in after fleeing a place like this?
Except for him, of course. He had done it a dozen times, mostly because Tank forced him.
He could probably stay here, but it didn’t feel right. He needed to see what was going on for himself.
“Blue,” Dr. Hargrove said in his most patronizing tone, “that hasn’t worked in the past.”
“Well, there’s always a first time,” Blue said. “I’m checking myself out, no matter what you say.”
Doctor Hargrove crossed his arms. “Are you leaving with Ms. Walters?”
“Yes,” Blue said, even though he hadn’t asked her. He hadn’t told her any of his plan. Maybe he was acting like an impulsive alcoholic.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Dr. Hargrove asked.
Blue felt a surge of panic. Had he told Dr. Hargrove about his dark side when he was drunk? He never thought he had.
“After all,” Dr. Hargrove continued, “she’s not trained to handle a recovering alcoholic.”
Doctor Hargrove was making an assumption. He had no idea who the real Jodi was. Blue let out a small sigh, forcing some of the panic to escape with it.
“She’s just going to take me to a place in Anaheim,” Blue said. “It’s that recovery house I’ve used before.”
He had listed the Archetype Place as his re
covery home on at least three occasions. The first time, the rehab center had checked the Archetype Place out, and someone had to magick the center’s representative so he didn’t see the dwarves and fairies and griffins and other so-called mythical creatures that visited the place every day.
In the end, the center had approved the Archetype Place as a recovery facility. And even though the rehab center called to update its files every now and then, it hadn’t tried to prevent him from going there in the past.
“Can you guarantee that you’re going there?” Dr. Hargrove asked.
“Yes,” Blue said.
“Then here’s what I want you to do,” Dr. Hargrove said. “I want you to check in with me on a regular basis, and I need to see you at least once a week.”
“All right,” Blue said. This was easier than he had expected.
“I’ll release you on an outpatient basis, and I’ll give you a list of local meetings. You must attend at least one per day.”
Or what? Blue wanted to ask. But he didn’t, because he didn’t want to complicate this any further.
“Thank you,” Blue said. “You won’t regret this.”
“Oh,” Dr. Hargrove said, “I’m regretting it already. But you’ve made some progress. You’re talking with a woman. You’re caring about things outside of yourself. Maybe you need someone to trust you just a little. I’m going to do that.”
But Blue could hear the words that Dr. Hargrove left unspoken. I’m going to do that, even though it goes against my own best judgment.
“I appreciate it,” Blue said. “I’m going to let Ms. Walters know what I’m up to, and then I’m going to get my things.”
“I’ll have the release documents waiting for you at the front desk,” Dr. Hargrove said, “along with a date and time for your first appointment. Do you want me to call ahead to the Archetype Place and let them know you’re coming?”
“That’s not necessary,” Blue said. “Ms. Walters has already been in touch with them.”
And strangely enough, that wasn’t a lie.
“I wish you the best with this, Blue,” Dr. Hargrove said. “You’re an unorthodox man. Perhaps an unorthodox method of treatment might just work.”
He extended his hand. It took Blue just a second to realize that Dr. Hargrove wanted to shake on this. So Blue took his hand and shook.
Then Dr. Hargrove nodded and headed down the hall.
Blue felt a pang as he watched the man go. For all his quirks and his mistaken judgments, Dr. Hargrove had done his best by Blue.
Blue owed it to him to resolve this.
Blue owed it to himself as well.
Chapter 22
Jodi hadn’t moved from her chair, but she kept glancing through the glass at Blue and Hargrove. They stood just outside the door. Hargrove looked upset. He kept gesturing, but Blue looked immobile. His back was straight, and he looked strong.
Until this morning, she had never seen him look strong.
Tank climbed out of the purse. “Should we do something?”
“You should get back in that purse,” Jodi said.
Tank stuck her tongue out. “No one is looking at me,” she said as she flew upward.
For a minute, Jodi thought Tank was going to fly right in front of one of the cameras, but she didn’t. Tank just zoomed around the room as if staying in that purse had seriously cramped her style. (It probably had.)
Then she stopped in front of the glass, staying up high so that Hargrove wouldn’t notice her. (Or might not notice her. Jodi wasn’t sure which. Not that it mattered. What mattered was Blue, the Fairy Tale Stalker, and that damn curse, which was starting to freak her out the longer she had to think about it.)
“That doctor guy, he looks mad,” Tank said.
Jodi resisted the urge to stand up. But Hargrove’s body language had tension in it. He seemed upset. Blue had crossed his arms. He kept nodding his head just a little, the way people did when they were emphasizing something.
The power relationship between the two men was changing, and Hargrove didn’t know how to deal with it.
Then he nodded once and spoke to Blue. Blue looked determined. Hargrove extended his hand. Blue shook it. Then Hargrove walked away.
Jodi exhaled. She hadn’t realized that she had been holding her breath, but she had. She was nervous. For Blue? For Tank? Or for herself?
Probably all of the above.
Blue watched Hargrove walk away. Then Blue moved once toward the corridor and seemed to decide against it, pushing open the door.
Tank fluttered down toward him.
“You should be in the purse,” he said as he walked across the room.
Tank stuck her tongue out at him too, but he clearly couldn’t see it. His back was to her, and his gaze was on Jodi.
He looked… different. Stronger. Straighter. Handsomer, if that was possible. His blue eyes blazed, and she got a very real sense of power from him.
But she got no sense of danger.
Her heart started to pound. She stood up, mostly because she couldn’t continue sitting any longer.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I have a favor to ask of you.” His voice was shaking just a little. That confidence she had seen vanished with the very first word. “Would you mind driving me out of here? I told Dr. Hargrove you would, but I’ll arrange something else if you need me to—”
Tank whooped. Then she pumped her tiny fists and whooped again. “Finally!” she said.
Blue’s mouth opened, and he frowned at Tank. Then he must have realized he was looking at her, and that the cameras would find her as well, because he turned his head toward Jodi. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was clearly watching Tank out of the corner of his eyes.
“You’re the one who kept bringing me here, Tank,” he said with just a touch of annoyance.
Good point, Jodi thought. But she wasn’t going to get into the middle of this.
“Yes, I did,” Tank said. “But you’ve never decided to leave before. You waited until they kicked you out.”
She whooped again, and then flew in dizzying circles, leaving little glowy swirls in the air.
Jodi hoped the cameras wouldn’t pick that up. She tried to ignore Tank’s euphoria.
“Where would I take you?” Jodi asked Blue. Her heart was still pounding so hard that she could almost hear it. Did she really want to be alone with this man? Would she be alone or would Tank be with her? Could Tank defend her? Could she defend herself?
And what was she so frightened of?
“I told Dr. Hargrove you’d take me to the Archetype Place,” Blue said. “But they’re not real fond of me there. Still, I’m sure they’d help me find an apartment—”
“I thought you had a place,” Tank said.
Blue shook his head.
“You said you had a place,” Tank said, her voice rising.
Blue shook his head again. He was not looking at her, which was a good thing, because Tank was getting visibly angry. She had stopped flying and she was hovering near him.
“Tank,” Jodi said. “The cameras.”
“You told me you had a place to live,” Tank said again, so firmly that she sounded like she was much larger. “You lied to me.”
Blue closed his eyes. “Let it go, Tank.”
“I hate it when people lie to me,” Tank said.
“Purse,” Jodi repeated.
Tank shot her a furious glance and then flew to the ceiling. She stuck close to it and moved to a far corner, probably out of camera range.
At least Jodi hoped it was out of camera range.
“It doesn’t matter right now, Tank,” Blue said.
“It does right now,” Tank said, her words echoing with fury. “We have nowhere to take you. Selda won’t help you get another apartment. Not after what happened to the last one.”
“What happened to the last one?” Jodi asked in spite of herself.
Blue closed his eyes. “I—you don’t want to know.”
“I do, actually,” Jodi said. But she wouldn’t tell him why. She wasn’t about to tell him she had access to some apartments.
“He says he trashed the place,” Tank said. “I don’t believe it. He’d never trashed a place in his life. I think he let some of his homeless friends in there, and they trashed the place after I brought him here a couple of trips ago. But he says no.”
“Tank,” Blue said, “it’s irrelevant. What matters is this: we need to continue our discussion, and we can’t do it here. I worked a long time last night on those clippings Jodi gave me and I want to talk about them.”
He paused. Jodi could see him thinking about how much more he wanted to say. And then he stopped.
The man kept a lot of things close to the chest. Normally she respected that, but in this case it worried her.
Everything about him worried her.
And intrigued her at the same time.
“You also want to talk about the curse,” Jodi said. “About what’s been happening to you.”
He shrugged one shoulder and bowed his head. “I didn’t mean to get you involved in this.”
“And you didn’t get me involved,” Jodi said. “Tank did. So any time you feel like taking responsibility for the fact that the curse is on me too, blame Tank.”
“Hey!” Tank said.
Blue frowned. He moved his head toward Tank, then stopped himself again, keeping those amazing blue eyes on Jodi.
She made sure he was focusing on her before she spoke again.
“Realize this,” she said. “If Tank and I are right, then Tank has done you a favor. Maybe the biggest favor anyone can do for another person.”
Blue blinked, as if he didn’t quite understand. Or maybe he was having trouble processing. After all, he had thought of himself as an out-of-control psychopath, when really he just suffered under one major curse.
Charming Blue Page 12