'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 will 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 Hell and the Underworld, at least in theory, but the fact that it was all 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.'
'The Shadowlands are like the tollbooth 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 doorbell?' I asked.
Just then the doors creaked open all 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 swallowed hard. 'Terrific. I'm like a half-demon garage door remote control.'
Since my feet weren't working anymore, Michael had to pull 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 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 all 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'll 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 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 still 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 chill go down my spine. All 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. 'Really?'
'Michael's right,' a deep voice behind me said. 'You're just as lovely as I expected my daughter to be.'
I turned slowly to see a handsome man leaning against the frame of the entranceway. He was taller than Michael by a few inches and dressed casually 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 tall frame.
'Nikki,' he said simply. 'I'm very pleased to finally 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 mentally prepare before actually seeing him, but I guessed I'd been wrong.
My father looked at Michael. 'You may leave us now.'
I grabbed Michael's arm before he even thought about abandoning me. After all, 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. Well, 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 pull 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 all-I didn't believe any of what he was telling 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 will 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.
