would explain the killer grip he had. He had high cheekbones and stern eyebrows like black slashes above his emerald green eyes.
'The cops patrol this park all the time,' I told him. 'So I think you should leave or there's going to be trouble. I'm going home and I strongly suggest you do the same.'
He raised his gaze to look directly at me. 'Not yet, Princess.'
I blinked at that. 'Who are you calling Princess?' 'You.' He took a step toward me.
I took a big step back. 'You need to stay away from me or we're going to have a serious problem here.'
He frowned deeply, then reached into the pocket of the navy blue hoodie he wore. I clenched my fists, trying to ready myself for anything. My throat felt too tight to scream, but I'd give it my best shot.
He pulled out an envelope and offered it to me. I stared at it without moving.
'What's that?' I managed.
'It will explain a little. But you need to come with me right now. He's waiting for us.' 'Who's waiting?' 'Your father.'
My mouth dropped open. Out of everything he could have said to me, I couldn't have expected that. At all.
'You're obviously mistaken,' I said. 'I don't have a father.'
'You do. Please, take the envelope.'
My fear and anger were quickly losing ground to a deep annoyance. 'Look, I don't know who put you up to this, but it's not funny.'
The hand that held the envelope dropped a little. Michael seemed uncertain of what to do now, since I wasn't being at all agreeable. 'He… he said you'd be surprised to hear from him after all this time, but there's no other way.'
'My father sent you to give me a message,' I said with major disbelief.
'And to bring you to his side.'
I still couldn't believe I was hearing him correctly. 'Well… why you?'
He frowned. 'Because he asked me to.'
This was so unreal. I'd barely thought about my father for years. It helped that my mother refused to talk about him even on the rare occasion that I was curious to learn more about where I came from. I guess being left alone and pregnant at eighteen might make you have a tendency to want to forget the somebody who's treated you so badly. Made sense to me.
Michael waited patiently with his arms crossed, the envelope held loosely in his right hand.
'Let me tell you a little something about my father,' I said. My headache was getting worse the longer I talked to this weirdo. 'He got my mother pregnant and then he disappeared without a trace and left her all on her own. Sixteen years and he hasn't tried to see me. Not once. Not a letter, a phone call, or an e-mail. So even if I did believe you, why would I want to see him at all?'
His face looked strained. 'Because there are things you need to know. About him. About you.'
My eyes narrowed. 'I have an idea. Why don't you take that envelope you have there back to whoever gave it to you and tell them to shove it?'
He raised his eyebrows. 'I don't think that message would go over too well.'
I had to admit, I'd always imagined what it might be like to have a real father. The four guys my mother had married over the last twelve years hadn't exactly fit the bill for me- and in the end, obviously not for her either. Somebody doesn't get married that many times if they've found Mr. Right.
Robert the accountant was the latest. I didn't like him much. That was an understatement, actually. His hobbies seemed to include yelling a lot and getting mad about stupid things-like when I left my homework on the sofa in front of the television one night. Not exactly anything to freak out over, in my opinion. I really didn't like how he treated me-or my mom, for that matter. Mom said it had only been two months and it might take a bit of adjusting to our new living arrangements. I wasn't so convinced, but I figured I'd try to wait it out.
Still, I'd seen too many of her relationships start out strong, only to fizzle after a couple of years. Sometimes it didn't even take that long for her to realize she'd made a mistake. This was always after we'd already moved across the country, though. Atlanta, Phoenix, San Diego, and now Erin Heights. I was kind of sick of being told what to do and forced to move all over the place. But I didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. I went where I was told to go. I did what I was told to do. I tried not to make too much of a fuss about it. End of story.
But any of the jerks she'd married were better than my biological father. At least I'd seen them with my own eyes. As far as I was concerned, my father didn't even exist.
I was pacing a small 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 tell me. Where is he? Why couldn't he come and see me himself if he's so interested all of a sudden? And why now, after all 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 all true.'
'Tell me.'
'Take the envelope and I'll tell you.' He held it out to me again.
I had to take a step closer to him as I snatched it out of his grip, 'Fine. Envelope delivered. Now tell 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 Hell.'
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 called 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 personally. He'll explain things much better than I will-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?'
'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 will start to manifest the powers of a Darkling,' he said, following 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?'
