Reign or Shine (8 page)

He moved to stand next to me. "You think so?"

I shook my head and smiled at him. "When you said we were going to the Shadowlands, I think I was expecting something else. Hearing al that stuff about demons and Hel , I guess ... I don't know. I'm glad I was wrong. Do we need to go into the forest? Is that where my father is?"

Michael didn't answer for a second.

"Wel ?" I prompted.

"This area isn't the Shadowlands itself," he said.

I frowned. "Oh. Wel , where are we going, then?"

"The Shadowlands are actual y behind you."

I slowly ...
very
slowly ... turned around and felt the blood drain from my face.

"Okay," I managed. "That's much more what I thought it would be like."

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There was a castle about a half mile away from where we stood. A big one. But definitely not a Cinderel a-type castle from Disney World that looked

lovely and welcoming and part of the fairy-tale landscape I stood in at the moment.

The green grass and sunny skies stopped just before the castle and turned to ominous storm clouds that swirled around the castle. I could see the jagged

edges of gray mountains in the distance. The castle itself consisted of sharp black spires that reached high into the dark clouds overhead. The entire

structure seemed to be made of some kind of black stone. There were no windows that I could see.

Michael touched my arm. "It's real y not as bad as it looks."

I swal owed hard. "Wel , that's good to know. Because it looks very bad."

Dracula could total y live in that castle. Or some other monster.

Like a demon king.

Yeah,
I thought.
Seems fitting. Definitely.
I was so going to throw up.

I tore my gaze away from the castle and looked back at the forest. "I think I'd rather go in there."

Michael shook his head. "Not a good idea."

I was stil trying to wrap my head around the fact that we'd just jumped into another dimension. "Why not?"

He glanced at the thick patch of trees a hundred yards away from us. "That's the faery realm."

"Seriously?" My eyes widened. "I love faeries. They're cute. They have wings."

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Also, I had no idea they actual y existed. I wondered if I should have brought a notebook, or even a camera, so I'd remember al of these bizarre facts. Faeries were real. Demons were real.

Okay.

I realized I was clutching Michael's arm very tightly and I loosened my grip. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I can take it." He smiled at me. "The faeries in that forest you wouldn't like so much. They're territorial. Anyone who comes onto their land is in big trouble. They can be vicious when they need to be."

I blinked. "Evil faeries?"

He studied the line of the forest with a bit of apprehension. "Not evil, exactly. Just not something you'd want to come face-to-face with if you can help it.

They real y don't like demons, so I don't think we should stand here for much longer."

"But I thought you said you weren't a demon?"

He met my eyes. "I'm not." "But--" And then I shut up. Oh, right. Half-demon princess present and accounted for.

I looked at Castle Dread again. "And you're trying to tel me that there's nothing to be afraid of."

He turned completely to me. "I promised your father that I wouldn't let anything happen to you. Nothing wil . Everything is going to be fine, Princess."

"And you promise to stay with me?"

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "As the Princess wishes."

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"The Princess definitely wishes."

His smile widened and I got that annoying little twist in my stomach again. Even here with the prospect of trekking across fairyland to go to a monster castle, Michael was making me al mushy inside.

No guy had ever made me this mushy before--not even Chris.

"Then let's go." He held out his hand to me. I took it.

"Your hand is sweating," Michael commented, raising an eyebrow.

"That's because it's scared."

With every step we took across the field I tried to wil myself to be courageous, but it was a struggle. Even though I was seeing the proof that everything Michael had told me was true, I couldn't wrap my head around it. Why didn't anybody seem to know about this place? I mean, sure people knew about Hel

and the Underworld, at least in theory, but the fact that it was al 100 percent real? My mind boggled. Why hadn't I ever heard about the Shadowlands

before?

I asked Michael the same questions.

"Humans are best kept from this sort of knowledge," he explained. "For their own good. The Shadowlands is like a buffer zone at the furthest edge of the

Underworld and keeps the demon worlds separate from the human and faery realms. Nobody can pass through the Shadowlands and beyond without

King Desmond's permission. That way, humans are kept safe from evil they don't even know exists."

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"The Shadowlands are like the tol booth between countries?"

He looked at me curiously. "I guess you could explain it that way."

"And my father isn't an evil demon. He's one who keeps the real evil demons away?"

That sounded like more of a gatekeeper than a king. But I guessed it was one and the same. Even though we were getting closer to the ominous-looking

castle, the thought that my father wasn't a horrible, evil demon set my mind slightly at ease.
Slightly.

Plus, holding on to Michael's hand helped, too. It didn't take very long (unfortunately) for us to walk to the massive, black front doors. It had gotten colder as we drew closer, the green grass slowly

becoming gray, uneven rock, and I put my coat back on.

"Is there a doorbel ?" I asked.

Just then the doors creaked open al by themselves. I looked at them suspiciously.

"Who just did that?" I asked.

"You did," Michael said, his smile a bit out of place in such an ominous setting. "The castle recognizes you as its princess."

I swal owed hard. "Terrific. I'm like a half-demon garage door remote control."

Since my feet weren't working anymore, Michael had to pul me along with him across the threshold.

The interior was just as friendly as the exterior. As in,
not at all.
Black marble floors. No furniture. There was a 81

huge spiraling staircase in the middle. Black, of course, since that seemed to be the sum total of the decorating palette.

I forced my feet to keep moving even though al they wanted to do was turn around and run back to where I'd come from. But I had to remember that I'd asked for this. I wanted to meet my father. I needed answers ... to questions that had suddenly slipped right out of my mind because I was too stunned by

what was going on.

"Where is everyone?" I whispered to Michael as he led me up the staircase.

"The Shadowlands isn't that populated to begin with, but recently the king has sent nearly everyone away except for a few servants."

"Why is that?"

"You'l have to ask him yourself."

I knew I wasn't the biggest social butterfly in the world, but even I couldn't imagine living in a place like this. Maybe having some friendly faces around

would help, but to put up with solitude in such a dark, dreary place? That would be too much.

And Michael lived here?

I touched his arm. "It must be very lonely here."

"It can be." His eyes met mine for a second before he focused again on the stairs. "But you get used to it."

I wondered who he hung out with. Did he go to school? Were there any girls around here his age?

The thought made my stomach tighten.

No, I wouldn't be jealous. That was ridiculous. I was

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already with somebody--Chris. My perfectly wonderful sort-of boyfriend at school. I decided to focus on something else. "How many stairs are there? I can't even see the top."

"A lot. But we're almost there."

When we finished climbing the stairs--about a hundred of them--we reached a large, cavernous room that had a huge lit fireplace on one side. It was stil ominous, but at least the fire gave some light and heat to the otherwise dark and dreary blackness.

Michael squeezed my hand. "You don't have to be nervous."

"Who me, nervous?" I tried to smile but failed. "I'm not."

The corner of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. "You're so lying."

"Am not." I felt a chil go down my spine. Al right, so I
was
lying. Big-time. I glanced around the room. "So ... uh ... what happens now? Do you announce

me or something? I'm just wearing jeans and a sweater. Maybe I should have picked out something nicer. I probably look terrible."

"No, you look good."

That made me smile. "Real y?"

"Michael's right," a deep voice behind me said. "You're just as lovely as I expected my daughter to be." 83

I turned slowly to see a handsome man leaning against the frame of the entranceway. He was tal er than Michael by a few inches and dressed casual y in black pants and a dark gray button-down shirt. His hair was a few shades darker than mine and cut short. He had straight eyebrows over hazel eyes, high

cheekbones, and a mouth that curved up at the side in a slight smile. I felt even more stunned than I had before.

My father looked more like me than I ever would have imagined.

And not the least bit demonic.

He took a moment to stare at me like I must have been staring at him, and then blinked and straightened his tal frame.

"Nikki," he said simply. "I'm very pleased to final y meet you."

I didn't say anything. I think I'd lost the power of speech completely. I'd figured I'd have a little more time to mental y prepare before actual y seeing him, but

I guessed I'd been wrong.

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My father looked at Michael. "You may leave us now."

I grabbed Michael's arm before he even thought about abandoning me. After al , he'd promised to stay with me, hadn't he?

He tensed and glanced at my father.

My father's eyebrows went up a little. "I see. Wel , in that case, you are more than welcome to stay for as long as my daughter requires your presence."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Michael nodded and didn't pul away from me. But his arm remained tense.

"I expected you to arrive yesterday," my father said, looking at Michael.

He cleared his throat. "I apologize for the delay."

"No, it was my fault," I managed, relieved that my voice didn't come out like a squeak. "I gave Michael a hard time because I didn't want to come at al --I

didn't believe any of what he was tel ing me. But I'm here now."

My father glanced at my wrist. "You're wearing the bracelet I sent."

I touched it. "Yes. Thank you. It's very pretty."

"It's more than just a piece of jewelry. It wil help you."

"With the half-demon thing?"

"That's right."

No one said anything else for a very long moment. Then my father cleared his throat, breaking the silence among us.

"This must al be very overwhelming for you, Nikki." Something about the way he said it, al apologetic, 85

made a thick lump show up in my throat that was very hard to swal ow.
Overwhelming.
Yes, this was definitely overwhelming. My brain couldn't process it

al . I'd come here wanting to confront my father and ask him a mil ion questions, but now I could barely find the words to speak. But, at least I hadn't turned

and run screaming out of the castle yet. That was something.

I was using Michael as my anchor. Sure, I didn't know him very wel , and the fact that he stil hadn't been terribly forthcoming about who he real y was didn't

help. But I trusted him when he said nothing bad was going to happen.

He looked at me now with concern in his green eyes. "You okay?" he asked quietly. I nodded. "So far so good."

My father's expression grew more serious and his eyebrows knitted together. "I wil assume that you hate me."

I shook my head. "I don't hate you."

Surprisingly, it was true. This was the man who I'd assumed I was supposed to hate for the past sixteen years, the man who'd abandoned my mother and

who I wanted to give a good piece of my mind to. And yet, now that I was final y face-to-face with him, I couldn't summon up that emotion at al .

Fear? Sure.

But not hate.

He looked taken aback at my answer. "You don't?"

"Um . . . hating you is actual y far down on the list of importance for me right now. I ... I need some answers."

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"Of course."

I final y let go of Michael's hand and he took a step back from me. I looked at him with alarm.

"It's okay, Princess," he said. "I'l be right here."

With effort, I turned my attention to my father. "So it's al true. Everything Michael has told me."

"I suppose that depends on what he's told you."

"You're a demon king? For real?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"A
demon,"
I repeated as if to clarify it one more time. Maybe I'd heard wrong. Maybe it was a foreign word that meant "doctor" or "lawyer" or

"construction worker."

He nodded to confirm that he was, indeed, a
demon.

I swal owed even though my mouth was as dry as a sandbox by then. "But you look so normal to me."

"Normal is in the eye of the beholder, Nikki," he said. "I can look different should I choose to, but I felt that my human form would be best to meet you in."

I gaped at him. "Your
human
form?"

"Demons can shapeshift to either human or demon form."

I thought about my red, slitted eyes when I'd broken Robert's arm and felt a chil run down my spine at the memory. "What does your demon form look like? " "As one brought up in the human realm, you might find it a bit. . .
unusual."
He hesitated. "However, this is how I choose to look now.

You must come to

realize that appearances are unimportant. I am the same man in my demon