Reign or Shine

by Michelle Rowen

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured me. “Everything will be fine.”

  It took me another couple of minutes before I felt anywhere close to fine, and even then I still felt jumpy.

  “What happened?” I asked shakily. “Wh-why did he change like that?”

  She took in a deep breath. “He’s in a great deal of pain. It is just as it was with my father when he was near the end. In demon form we’re able to handle pain better. It doesn’t make it go away but it becomes more manageable. A human body is more aesthetically pleasing, but it makes us very fragile. Right now, Desmond can’t control the shift. When he experiences intense pain, he simply turns to demon form. I know he didn’t want to scare you, Nikki. It’s the last thing he wanted.”

  I looked over at the entranceway. “Is he going to be okay?”

  But that sounded stupid. He wasn’t going to be okay. He was going to die.

  “He’ll be fine in a bit. We must leave him alone and let him recover enough to change form again.” She patted my cheek. “Honestly, I think the best thing for you would be to let Michael take you home. You should probably drink the potion, too, and in minutes all of this will have faded away.”

  I looked at the potion bottle again. “Okay. I’m going to drink it.” I put the chain over my head and let the vial fall against my chest. “But I’m going to wait until tomorrow, though. I . . . I still need to think about some things.”

  I wasn’t ready to forget. Not this quickly. I’d have plenty of time tomorrow when I was back in my normal life. It could wait until then.

  “I understand. But don’t wait too long. It’s dangerous to wait now that you’re sixteen.”

  My eyebrows went up at that and I shifted my focus from the entranceway of the dark, cavernous room to my aunt. “Dangerous?”

  She nodded gravely. “I’m sure Desmond didn’t go into specific details, but there’s a very good reason why there hasn’t been a Darkling in a thousand years. You’ve been very lucky that you haven’t experienced any serious consequences.”

  I looked questioningly at her. “What are you talking about?”

  She wrung her hands together and walked over to the table, before turning back to me. Her beautiful face was tense and worried. “Desmond had me look into the history of Darklings when he first began to sense you, and I found out some things. Things I didn’t want to burden him with in his current condition.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  She didn’t speak for a moment. “No Darkling has ever lived past their eighteenth year. It’s the human/demon mix. It’s unstable. Those who have lived that long refrained from using any of their powers at all. It’s the only way.”

  “You mean, if I don’t take the potion and become completely human then I’m going to die?” I managed.

  She pressed her lips together. “But you have the potion. You will take it, and you will forget about all of this.”

  “But . . . but my father said that I was the heir. That if he died then I would become queen. He didn’t say anything about this.”

  “That’s because he doesn’t know.” She sighed. “If there was another way, believe me, I’d want to learn what it is. I don’t want to be queen, you know. I don’t want to never be able to leave this place, but it has to be done.” She touched my shoulder tentatively. “Take the rest of the night and let it all sink in, if you wish. But tomorrow morning, drink the potion. Forget about all of this and live a happy, normal life, Nikki.”

  I nodded shakily. “Okay.”

  “But please remember one very important thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “In the meantime, don’t allow your powers to manifest. At all. They’re triggered by extreme emotions. Stress, anger, fear . . . I know you’ve had your share of all of that today, and I’m worried about you. Do you understand?”

  I nodded again. “I understand.”

  “Good.” She rubbed a tear away from my cheek with her thumb. “I will take care of your father, I promise. I’ll make his last days as comfortable as possible. I know he was so happy to find out that you existed. And he was so happy to get the chance to meet you before the end. Please know that even in his demon form, your father cares about you and would never wish you harm in any way.”

  I blinked back more tears. “I’m glad I met him, too. I just wish I had more time.”

  “Me, too.”

  I hugged her and she smelled like warm jasmine. I felt something press against my collarbone and looked down.

  “You have a vial, too?” I asked, glancing at the small blue bottle she wore around her neck on a chain.

  She touched it lightly. “It’s perfume—a gift from my inamorato . . . or what you might call my ‘boyfriend.’ ” Her expression turned forlorn and wistful. “I’m hoping he’ll want to visit me when I’m unable to leave this castle.”

  She led me out of the room and down the staircase to where Michael was waiting, his attention firmly fixed on the floor.

  “Good-bye, Nikki. Be well.” With a last squeeze of my hand, Elizabeth left to go deeper into the castle.

  The doors opened up to let me out.

  Michael didn’t say anything. He simply walked outside. He led me over the gray stones that slowly turned to green grass. Where the dark, stormy skies above cleared away to beautiful blue. Where the forest leading into the faery realm stood before us, looking very innocent and not like the home of unfriendly, territorial faeries.

  My head ached with everything I had learned swirling around inside. Seeing my father turn demon. Learning that he was going to die. Learning that I would die if I didn’t drink the potion. Meeting Elizabeth. Learning that her fate was to never leave the castle again. Knowing I’d forget all of this as soon as I drank the potion.

  I sucked in a breath and it sounded like a sob. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Michael looked over his shoulder at me. “What part?”

  “All of it. About my father’s health. About the dangers of being a Darkling. About all of that.”

  “I told you what I was supposed to tell you, Princess. I answered your questions.”

  I felt angry then. At him, at everything. “No, you didn’t. I asked you to tell me who you were but you didn’t say anything. I wish you would have told me the truth.”

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt and kept trudging along toward a shimmering patch of light about fifty feet ahead of us—the gateway back to the human realm.

  “I should have told you,” he said. “I know that.”

  “Yeah, you should have.”

  “Well, now you know. I’m a servant.” He said it so bitterly and his eyes were still on the path ahead of him. He hadn’t looked me directly in the eyes since we were in the castle. “You’re a princess and I’m your servant. See? I can say it. It’s not even that bad, actually.”

  “Michael—”

  “Princess, please. Let me take you home. It doesn’t matter anyway. None of this matters. When you drink the potion you’ll forget all about me and everything else.” He’d reached the gateway. “No sewer this time. Not as traumatic, I promise.”

  I looked at the gateway. It was about the size of a regular door, but with rounded edges; a swirling kaleidoscope of color, but I could still see through it to the other side as if it were only a light film.

  “Wait a minute—”

  ::Follow me, Princess:: He didn’t say it out loud this time.

  I bit my lip. Telepathy. I could hear him because I was a demon princess and he was the servant my father had assigned to me.

  Right behind you, I thought telepathically, wondering if he could hear me as clearly as I could hear him.

  Without another word or a glance at me, he walked directly through the gateway and disappeared.

  I looked back over my shoulder at the castle in the distance. That scary castle I’d been so afraid to approach. And there was no doubt—it was scary and intimidating and so very strange. Ev
erything about this had been unbelievable. But it was all true.

  My eyes filled up, thinking I’d never see my father again. I’d wanted to hate him, I’d tried to hate him, but I couldn’t. He was a good man. His demon form had scared me, but he’d said earlier that he was the same person underneath. That appearances meant nothing.

  Now I believed it.

  Good-bye, Dad, I thought as a tear slipped down my cheek.

  And then I walked through the gateway. My stomach lurched a bit and I had a moment of vertigo, but with the next step I was on the street where I lived. Michael stood there with his arms crossed as he waited for me.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’ll walk you to your house.”

  I shifted my focus to Michael. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do you do for fun in the Shadowlands?”

  “Fun?”

  I shrugged. “Here we go to the movies or the mall or just hang out. Or go to dances like Winter Formal tomorrow night at school.”

  “We don’t have anything like that.” He frowned. “There are lots of books, which is how I learned all about the human realm. I . . . I hang out with some of the other . . . servants . . . who live at the castle. They’re okay.”

  “Anybody your age?”

  He shook his head. “Not really.”

  I chewed my bottom lip. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “No.” There was silence then for a moment. “We’re here. I guess I’ll say good-bye now.”

  We’d reached my house. I could tell by the big maple tree at the bottom of the front lawn.

  “What did you think would happen if you told me the truth about who you really are?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “It does matter. Did you think I’d look down on you?”

  He pressed his lips together and was apparently finding the ground an extremely interesting thing to look at. “Something like that.”

  “Well, you were wrong.”

  He finally raised his gaze to mine. “But your father said—”

  “Forget about what my father said. He has a seriously outdated view of the world, but that’s probably because he lives in a different one.” I sighed. “Look, if this could be any other way I wouldn’t take the potion at all. I don’t want to forget about you. I don’t want to forget about any of this.”

  “You have to drink it.”

  “I know that, but it doesn’t mean I want to.”

  He let out a breath, but I still couldn’t see it in the cold air. It had to have something to do with his amulet controlling his life force. Even in the darkness it pulsed with a soft green light over his sweatshirt.

  “You can get back to your normal life with your . . . your boyfriend, Chris.” Michael said his name unpleasantly. “I’m sure you’ll be glad when all of this is over.”

  “He’s not really my boyfriend,” I admitted.

  That raised his eyebrows. “But I thought you said—”

  “I’m just going to the dance with him.”

  “I saw him kiss you in the hallway.” He didn’t sound happy about it. “And yesterday, too.”

  I thought back to Chris’s hallway smooch. Had that honestly only been earlier today? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  “He’s not that great a kisser,” I said. “But don’t tell anyone.”

  “I definitely won’t.” He glanced back at the street. “Look, I really need to go now. Your father will wonder what’s taking me so long.”

  “I think you worry about him too much.” I walked right up to him and he glanced at me warily. I held out my hand. “Thank you for all your help, Michael.”

  He took my hand in his and we stood like that, silent, for a moment, and then, “Good-bye, Princess.”

  I just looked at him.

  After a few more moments had gone by he raised his green-eyed gaze to mine. “You’re not going inside.”

  “Not yet.”

  “And you’re not letting go of my hand.”

  “I know.”

  He swallowed. “I can’t leave until I know you’re safe.”

  He looked away, pushing the dark hair across his forehead as if trying to hide his face from me. I reached up to push it to the side so I could see him.

  “Princess . . . ,” he began.

  I’d sort of gotten used to him calling me that. I didn’t even correct him anymore. “Uh-huh?”

  “You need to go now.”

  I knew he was right. I should be going inside—or rather, sneaking in would be better. A quick glance at my watch told me it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. Mom would kill me if she found out I was gone this late.

  “I need you to do something for me first.”

  He raised his eyes to mine. “What?”

  “Can I borrow your sweatshirt for a second?”

  Even though I was already wearing a winter coat, he didn’t hesitate to strip his own meager protection from the cold off his back and hand it to me.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “What do you need it for?”

  “Protection,” I said. “I don’t want to get electrocuted again.”

  He looked confused. “Why would you be worried about something like that?”

  “I just worry.” I balled the sweatshirt up in my hands and pressed it against his chest and over the green stone of his amulet. This also pushed him back up against the tree.

  His frown deepened. “What are you doing?”

  “This.” I leaned closer, went up on my tiptoes, and kissed him. He seemed to resist for a moment, perhaps surprised by what I was doing, but then he relaxed and kissed me back. Hard. His hands moved down to clutch my arms and pull me closer as the kiss deepened and went on and on.

  “Just like I thought,” I said as I brushed my lips against his again.

  “What?” His voice was raspy.

  “Way better than Chris Sanders. Like, there isn’t even a comparison, really.” I grinned and kissed him again. “I want you to know that I don’t give a crap whether you’re a servant or not. Remember that.”

  “Then I guess I don’t care if you’re a princess,” he said against my lips.

  “I don’t want to drink the potion,” I said, my heart clenching at the thought.

  His expression darkened. “You have to.”

  I had to do a lot of things I didn’t want to do, didn’t I? “I know. But I’m going to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Then wait.”

  “I want to see you again. Promise me that you’ll come back.”

  “I promise,” he whispered.

  I kissed him again, and hugged him against me. “So this is good night, not good-bye. Not yet, okay?”

  He nodded. “Good night, not good-bye.”

  After another kiss, I handed him back his sweatshirt. Then I ran to my front door and disappeared inside.

  11

  The first thing I did when I woke up the next morning was look in the mirror to see if there was some sign of demon in me. But there was nothing. Other than looking exhausted from barely sleeping, I looked the same as I always had. Freckles and all.

  “Nikki,” my mother called out to me over her coffee and toast and the entertainment section of the newspaper. “Come have some breakfast.”

  I stopped at the table and looked at her—really looked at her for the first time in a long time. She wore her pink fuzzy housecoat and her long dark hair draped over her left shoulder.

  How must it have felt to have the man you thought you were in love with just disappear without a trace, without even a good-bye first?

  I wanted to tell her everything, but I knew I couldn’t. She wouldn’t believe me, for one thing. She’d probably send me to the nearest shrink. And even if I could convince her it was all true, could I really tell her that the love of her life hadn’t wanted to leave her in the first place? And that now he was dying? It would only bring her more pain. It was best to say nothing
at all.

  “Is there something wrong?” she asked at my prolonged silence.

  I shook my head.

  “I think I know what it is,” she said, putting down her cup. “It’s the dance tonight, isn’t it?”

  The dance. Right. I’d nearly forgotten about that. “You guessed it.”

  “You’ve barely told me anything at all about it. Are you going?”

  “I . . . I don’t know.” I adjusted my backpack and glanced at the clock. I was already running late for school since I’d slept right through my alarm. “I was invited to go. This guy named Chris asked me. But I don’t have anything to wear. I haven’t had a chance to go to the mall.”

  She smiled at me. “If that’s the problem then I suppose I could let you borrow my lavender dress.”

  Normally, I think borrowing your mother’s clothes wouldn’t be so cool, but the thing was—my mom had really great clothes. Clothes that I’d actually consider buying for myself if I had any money. And I knew the dress she was talking about. It was a designer dress—Versace—that she’d bought to go to a writers’ banquet a few months ago. When she got it I remember running my hands over the beautiful silky fabric and wishing I’d have the chance to wear something like it someday.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I went over to her and hugged her harder than she probably expected.

  She looked up at me curiously. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong, honey?”

  I nodded again. “Where’s Robert? Did he come home last night?”

  “No, he’s . . . he’s staying with a friend for a while.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I think it’s probably best. It’ll give me some time to think about things.”

  Time. It was something I needed, too. I needed to think about the potion, about Michael, about everything. And I guessed school was as good a place as any to do some thinking.

  Classes that morning were a blur. I remember being asked a question by my geography teacher and I just looked at her blankly. I wasn’t even embarrassed that I didn’t know the answer.

  I wore the vial of potion on a chain around my neck, tucked under my black sweater. I touched it now and then to feel the cool glass of the bottle. It was a solid reminder of what I had to do. I had to drink it. I had to forget.