Reign Check

again, she wasn’t the smartest girl at school.

Her expression soured further. “Good thing Melinda has me around to watch her back. It won’t be long before she realizes once and for all who her true friends are and who’s just trying to weasel themselves in.”

“Weasel?” I repeated.

“Yeah. Weasel.” Her eyes narrowed into little eye-shadowed slits.

So did mine. I tried very hard not to let the annoyance prickling at my skin spread any further. “Gee, Larissa. I think you have a way higher opinion of yourself than you should have. Normally your opinion would mean nothing to me, but since I’m having a bad day already, it means less than nothing. If that’s even mathematically possible.”

“You don’t fit in here and you never will. It’s only a matter of time before Melinda figures that out.”

Okay, that one stung. I winced, as if she’d slapped me.

“Why don’t you go back to Melinda and keep kissing her butt?” I suggested. “Maybe you can date her next ex-boyfriend if you’re lucky.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ll send you a postcard.” Irritation swelled inside me, pushing through my hurt feelings. “You said that I always get what I want. You know what I want right now?”

“What?”

“For you to get out of my face.”

“Gladly.” She turned and went back into the cafeteria.

I was now seething — my anger had built gradually until it was nearly overwhelming. My temples started to itch, a warning that my demon horns were planning to appear. That would be bad. It would be harder to hide a set of horns at the moment than a handful of talons.

“I’m seriously going to lose it,” I said to myself. “Right here, right now.”

::No, you’re not. Don’t let her get to you, Princess. Just breathe.::

Yeah, breathe. I’d breathe fire out of my nostrils, just like the dragon who sobbed out the tear on my bracelet. And then I’d sneeze all over Larissa and her stupid opinions about friendship and loyalty and Rhys and …

Wait a minute. I stopped thinking about revenge for a moment.

Did I just hear what I thought I did?

A breath caught in my throat.

I scanned the hallway until I stopped on a tall, very good-looking guy watching me intently while leaning against the lockers about twenty feet away. He had dark hair that was a bit too long and shaggy — it nearly touched his shoulders and partially covered his vivid green eyes and high cheekbones. A dark blue hooded sweatshirt and baggy faded jeans hid the fact he had a leanly muscled athletic frame that any jock at school would envy.

Michael.

My heart leaped. All anger forgotten, including any potential fire-breathing directed at stupid girls named Larissa, I made a beeline toward him.

I couldn’t believe it had been less than a week since Michael had first been sent here with the instruction to bring me back to the Shadowlands so I could meet my father for the first time. To say I’d resisted everything Michael told me would be putting it mildly. At the time, how was I supposed to know he was telling the truth?

Yeah, Michael and I had started off a bit shakily, but he’d more than made up for it since then.

We weren’t alone in the hallway. Other students moved past us steadily, heading in and out of the swinging cafeteria doors, which was the only factor that made me refrain from throwing my arms around him. I couldn’t remember being happier to see anyone before. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face, my troubles with Larissa (almost) forgotten.

“You were fighting with your friend.” Michael’s voice was very serious and filled with concern.

“I wouldn’t exactly call her my friend. And it was more of a loud disagreement than an outright fight.”

He glanced warily toward the cafeteria doors. “If she’d made any attempt to harm you, I would have intervened immediately. If she had any idea who you are—”

“But she doesn’t and she won’t,” I said firmly. “Don’t worry. I can handle Larissa.”

He still looked troubled. “As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m fine now.” I decided I didn’t care about the potential audience of students. I went up on my tiptoes and kissed him quickly.

“Princess, you really shouldn’t do that here,” he said cautiously, but the glimmer of a smile was struggling to appear on his lips.

I glanced around to see a passing guy looking at us strangely and my face reddened. Michael called me “Princess.” I’d asked him repeatedly to call me Nikki, but he almost always refused, instead insisting on addressing me by my official royal title.

Grabbing Michael’s hand, I led him over to the doors at the end of the hallway, where we could talk more privately.

“You think we shouldn’t kiss in public?” I asked.

“Yes.” He swallowed and looked down at the ground. Then he raised his eyes and met mine. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s fine with me. More than fine, really. But if anyone sees us …”

Right. The stupid, pointless rule that forbade demons and Shadows from openly dating. “Forget about that. I honestly don’t care what anyone thinks. I thought you already knew that.”

“I do.” His hands were now clasped behind his back, his amulet, a bright green stone that looked like a large flat emerald, visible on top of his zippered sweatshirt.

Because Michael was a Shadow, the magic amulet the exact color as his eyes helped him keep a solid form. Without it, he became as disembodied as a ghost — or an actual shadow—one that would quickly fade away to nothingness. A common punishment for Shadows who refused to do what they were told was to temporarily (or worse, permanently) take away their amulet.

Like I said before, Michael wasn’t exactly a normal boyfriend. Also, if I wasn’t mistaken, he was blushing a little bit from me kissing him in front of everybody. It only made me want to do it again as soon as possible.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Your father ordered me to bring you to the Shadowlands immediately. He wants to talk to you.”

I frowned at that. “He ordered you?”

“Yes.”

I would have preferred he use the word “asked” or “requested,” which would have fit much better with Michael’s new nonservant status. Unless …

“Hold on,” I said. “You spoke to me telepathically a moment ago. Can we still communicate that way even though you’re officially not my servant anymore?”

He met my eyes. “About that …”

I shook my head, a feeling of dread twisting in my stomach. “Don’t even try to tell me nothing’s changed. My father promised me.”

“Princess, please. It doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t believe this. Why would he lie to me?”

“King Desmond didn’t lie. I do believe he meant what he said at the time he said it.”

“So you’re still a … a servant?”

“I am what I’ve always been.” He held up a hand when I was about to say something, I didn’t know what. He must have seen the outrage on my face. “Please, don’t overreact, Princess. I didn’t expect things to change overnight. In fact, it’s very possible things will never change.”

Quite honestly, ever since my father had made the promise, I hadn’t given it much more thought. I’d just assumed things would change immediately.

“Why aren’t you fighting this?” I asked. “Why do you seem to accept this so easily?”

“Because it’s not the time. Your father has been very good to me over the years. You really have no idea.”

“How? By ordering you around?”

“He allows me to come here through the gateway and see you. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to at all.”