Reign or Shine (3 page)

I was pacing a smal section of the park, and when I glared at Michael, it was with anger now, not fear. Why did he have to stir up old issues for me?

And

after I was having such a great day, too.

He was ruining my good post-birthday mood.

"If you're the delivery boy for my long-lost father," I said, "then tel me. Where is he? Why couldn't he come and see me himself if he's so interested al of a sudden? And why now, after al these years?"

Michael raised his eyes to mine and his expression looked uncertain. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe somebody had given him money to contact me. Strange, but possible.

"You probably won't believe me right away," he said. "But you have to. It's al true."

"Tel me." "Take the envelope and I'l tel you." He held it out to me again.

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I had to take a step closer to him as I snatched it out of his grip, "Fine. Envelope delivered. Now tel me.
Please."

He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. "Your father is the king of the Shadowlands."

I blinked slowly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The Shadowlands is the dimension that separates this human realm from the Underworld and Hel ."

I didn't say anything for a moment. Again, this guy had managed to render me speechless. He certainly wasn't predictable.

"Another
dimension,"
I repeated.

"Yes."

"And my father is the king there. In this other dimension."

"That's right."

"And that's the reason why you cal ed me Princess before. Because my father is a king."

He nodded. "You're the current heir to the throne."

My mouth felt very dry and my head throbbed. I rubbed my temples. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not kidding. I knew you'd have a difficult time believing me; you've lived the life of a human for sixteen years. That's why you have to see your father personal y. He'l explain things much better than I wil --even though I'm supposed to answer any questions you have to the best of my ability. He

wants you to read his letter and then come with me--"

"Let me guess. To the Shadowlands?"

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"That's right."

I frowned. "Hold on. Did you say that I've lived a human life for sixteen years? What other kind of life could I have lived?"

He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Your father is a demon."

"You're crazy. I'm not listening to this." I began to walk away.

"And as of your sixteenth birthday you wil start to manifest the powers of a Darkling," he said, fol owing me. "One who is half demon and half human."

"A Darkling?" I sputtered, coming to a stop and glaring at him.

"You're the first one in a thousand years. Your father is concerned about how this might affect you. He had to leave the human realm over sixteen years

ago and has been unable to communicate in any way since--"

I held up my hand. "Stop. Just stop, would you?" He stopped. "I know this is a lot to grasp."

"No, not at al ," I said. "I'm a half-demon princess. Sure. What's so hard to grasp about that?"

Michael was crazy. Certifiable. Maybe that's why I'd never seen him around school before--because he didn't go there at al . He was an escaped mental

patient. Somebody dangerous and about to have a major psychotic break if he hadn't already had one. And for some reason I'd managed to work my way into his delusion. Just great. It was sick and twisted, and I'd feel sorry for him if I didn't feel incredibly concerned for my own safety.

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He eyed me warily. "So you accept everything I've told you?"

"Demons don't exist." "Yes, they do." "No, they don't."

He sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to explain it properly. That's why you have to come with me and see for yourself."

I backed up a step. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Please, Princess, your father needs to see you. You have to come with me--"

But I wasn't listening anymore. I turned and ran away from him as fast as my feet could carry me, thundering up the stairs in record time and down the street to my house where I slammed the door behind me and tried to put Michael out of my mind forever. 24

Just as I'd expected, the house was empty when I got home. I turned the lock and stood with my back against the door, trying to bring my breathing back to normal while my head throbbed with pain.

I stil had the envelope he'd given me clutched in my

fist.

At least I'd gotten away from him. I guess I was a faster runner than I thought. I let out a long, shaky breath and tried to relax.

I was home. I was safe. Everything was fine.

Breathe.

I went into the kitchen and saw that my mother had left me a plate of food in the fridge--vegetable lasagna and salad--and a note reminding me about the

party that night.

I wasn't hungry. Not even for leftover birthday cake.

When I passed the door again, I glanced out the side window and felt my insides freeze.

Michael was in front of my house at the end of the driveway.

Just standing there.

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My heartbeat, which had just calmed down to normal, picked up its pace and panic wel ed up inside me again.

He'd fol owed me home. He
knewwhere 1 lived.

I dropped my backpack with a thud and went to the phone. I'd cal 911. They'd take care of my escaped-mental-patient stalker. Just as I reached for the phone, it rang and I shrieked, nearly jumping right out of my skin.

I picked it up and held it to my ear.

"H-h-hel o?" I croaked out.

"I didn't know you had a stutter," Melinda said, obviously amused. "You should probably work on that. Listen, I wanted to know if anything else happened with Chris. Since I'm your official matchmaker, I'm painful y curious."

"Melinda," I whispered. "You have to help me."

"Help you? With what?"

My hand was sweating and I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could wipe it against my jeans. "That guy from the cafeteria. He fol owed me home. He stopped me in the park and told me the craziest things."

"He fol owed you home? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. But he's outside my house right now." "Have you cal ed the cops?" she asked, concern now evident in her voice.

"I was going to, but you cal ed first."

"What did this freak tel you?"

"He said that I'm the daughter of a demon king from another dimension. And he wanted to take me to this other dimension to meet him."

"A demon king," she repeated.

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"Yeah." When she didn't say anything for a moment, I prompted, "Melinda?"

"This sounds too crazy to even come from a crazy guy. Besides, the guy in the cafeteria looked like a loser, but not a
crazy
loser."

"I don't know what to do."

She paused. "You know what I think this is?"

"What?"

"I think somebody's playing a practical joke on you. It's probably Chris's friends. They know that he asked you out and they're--"

"Trying to scare me to death?" I managed. "You real y think that's al this is?"

"Did he try to hurt you?"

I held the phone so tightly my fingers were numb. "No."

"And where is he now? Stil outside?"

I pul ed at the curtains and peeked out again. Michael was gone. I scanned what I could see of the dark street but saw nothing. "I can't see him anymore."

"Figures. Maybe Chris found out and cal ed the guy off."

The panic was quickly stepping to the side to make way for a seething annoyance. "Wel , I don't find it very funny."

"They got me once. And trust me, it wasn't funny either, but they didn't mean any harm by it." There was silence for a moment. "But cal the cops if you think

it'l make you feel better. It would serve them right."

I checked the driveway again. Nothing. Michael was gone. "If he was stil out there, I would, but now I'l just come off as a paranoid teenager."

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"You okay now?" "I'm okay."

"Good. Now forget about the crazy loser guy. You have to tel me everything that happened with you and Chris." So I did.

I talked to her for ten minutes about the dance--and her date and what she was planning to wear--until I felt better. After I hung up the phone, I figured I'd get

started on my studying. I was so mad that I'd al owed myself to believe Michael's stupid joke. That jerk was probably laughing right now at how gul ible I was.

Other dimensions.
Sure.

I wondered why I hadn't thought of it myself without Melinda's help, as I shakily walked through the dark and silent house and up the staircase to my bedroom. Lining the wal s were framed covers of my mom's romance novels. Being married and divorced multiple times hadn't done much to change the fact that she was a hopeless romantic and she loved to talk about--and write about--being in love. My father had never been part of those conversations,

though.

My eyes narrowed at the thought of my father. If I did have the chance to someday meet the man who had left her alone, I'd have several choice things to say to him, none of which was, "Nice to meet you, Daddy."

Demon king.

I was sure he was a demon, al right. But of the purely human variety.

By this time, the envelope Michael had given me was al

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wrinkled up, and I threw it on my bed along with my backpack. My stomach was churning and I stil had my headache.

I wondered what the point of the practical joke had been--other than just messing with me. I was supposed to read this note and then go with him.

Where

was he going to take me? Or would he have come clean about everything before that?

Not to mention, how did he even know that I'd never met my father before? That was inside information I didn't share with just anyone.

Strange.

On the other hand, what if the letter
was
from my father after al ? I was sure he was out there somewhere in the world. When not imagining that he was

dead, I would imagine that he was in jail. That's probably where he was. And now if he was writing to me ... maybe it was to borrow some money.

Maybe he had some mob bosses after him, wanting to break his kneecaps unless he came through with cold, hard cash.

Yeah, that made total sense.

I was sure he was a bad guy. What kind of person would abandon his unborn child? And leave a beautiful woman like my mom?

I frowned. What was I even thinking? The envelope wasn't from him at al . I was total y obsessing.

Just a practical joke. Right?

If that was the case, then why were my arms crossed so tightly that I couldn't even feel my hands? Al over a stupid envelope?

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I grabbed it off my bed and sliced it open with a fingernail. Something heavy and loose slipped out and fel to the floor. I leaned over to pick it up and realized that it was a bracelet. A thin gold chain with one charm--a clear crystal in the shape of a teardrop. It was very pretty, actual y. With the bracelet dangling off my index finger, I pul ed a folded piece of paper from the envelope. I held it in my hand for a good three minutes before unfolding it and focusing enough to read the short, precisely handwritten message:
Dearest Nikki

As Michael has explained to you, it is imperative that
I
see you immediately. There is much to explain about who you are and what it
means.Nowthat you've turned six teen time is of the essence. You may have trouble believing all of this, or you may have
already, experienced the side effects of

being a . Darking -one who is half demon and half human- Please try to open your mind to this, because it is the truth. Wear the bracelet I've giv en you. It

wil help focus your power and may, with practice, make it man' ageable. Let Michael lead you to see me, I trust him implicitly. I look forward to final y meeting you after al this time.

Your father

I set the letter aside. My hands were shaking.

My father was a demon king. So that meant I was a half-demon princess--a Darkling? He ruled the . . . what had Michael cal ed it? The Shadowlands?

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The letter had talked about side effects. Wel , other than a persistent headache, I hadn't experienced anything strange since I turned sixteen. So what was it? A magical headache? A demonic migraine?

I glanced at my reflection in my vanity mirror. Long, straight honey blonde hair. A scattering of annoying freckles on my nose that only went away if I took the time to use both foundation and pressed powder. Hazel-colored eyes with golden flecks. Pale lashes that required two coats of mascara to give the

look of actual eyelashes.

Well, hello there, demon princess.

What a joke.

I tore the letter into itty-bitty pieces and then threw them in the toilet bowl. I flushed them away before going downstairs to take two Tylenol with a glass of

milk. Stress headache. That had to be it.

Even though I'd rationalized the entire experience, I stil felt shaken and tired and more than a little mad. It had been such a great day and this Michael

freak had to go and ruin it for me. I couldn't even concentrate on studying, so I decided to forget about it. There would be some time in the morning to read

about the doomed star-crossed lovers and try to fake my way through the test.

I was exhausted. Utterly exhausted.

At least one good thing had come out of this lousy experience, though.

I had a real y nice, shiny new bracelet.

Even though my first inclination had been to flush it

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down the toilet along with the pieces of the letter, I'd stopped myself. It was way too pretty to throw away.

Besides, Robert-the-jerk would probably kil me if I clogged up his plumbing. He was funny like that.

The next morning, I left the house early enough to walk to school the long way. I wasn't taking any chances by cutting through the park again. I'd decided to wear the bracelet, and the teardrop crystal sparkled in the sunshine. I tried to forget who'd given it to me and just enjoy it for what it was.