Мишель Роуэн - Reign Check

A wave of anxiety went through me, and I released my tight hold on his arm. I was about to ask him a dozen more questions but stopped at the pale look on his face. He watched me warily, as if waiting for my scary demon-girl reaction.

“Are you afraid of me?” I asked. It sounded stupid as soon as I said it.

He hesitated. “No. Of course not.”

My eyes widened. “You’re lying. You’re afraid!”

“I’m a king,” he said, scowling at me. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Yeah, you’re a king, but you’re also only sixteen. I’m sixteen and I’m afraid of lots of things. I have a list.”

“We’re different.”

“You’re right about that.” I knew he wasn’t going to help me. I hissed out a frustrated sigh. “Do me a favor and don’t follow me, okay?”

Without waiting for a reply, I went into the nearest bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection and trying not to think. Unfortunately, not thinking wasn’t something I could control that easily.

My face was now flushed, which brought out the freckles on my nose that I hated. I pushed my hair back behind my ears and rubbed my lips together. At the moment, I looked fairly normal, all things considered.

Maybe Rhys had only been trying to get a reaction out of me — trying to get me to sprout my wings so I wouldn’t be able to show my face in school ever again. Getting all emotional was one way to bring out my demon side. Then I’d be just as much of a freak as he was.

I mean, who had to be a king when they were so young? I’d almost become queen of the Shadowlands — even now, if my father died, I’d automatically have to take the throne — but it wasn’t something I’d ever choose for myself. And why would Rhys, as king, leave his world to come to mine just so he could poke at me like I was his own personal dead frog to dissect? He could have simply sent one of his advisers in his place if he was oh-so-concerned.

If there was a prophecy about me, my father would have told me about it by now, right?

And it’s not like I wasn’t safe. The Shadowlands were surrounded by a magic-infused barrier, controlled by my father, that protected the faery and human worlds from the demon ones — the “dark worlds,” as they were called. Since he was king, my father couldn’t leave the castle because maintaining the barrier was his prime responsibility.

I closed my eyes and concentrated.

Michael, where are you? I need to see you.

Since Michael had been my officially designated “servant” the first time I’d met him, we had this telepathy thing between us. However, it didn’t work long distance. I had no idea where he was at the moment. Probably at my father’s castle. In other words, nowhere close to me.

I desperately wanted to see him again. He’d know what to do. Also, I just really missed him. He was someone who accepted me exactly as I was — horns and all — and I felt totally safe when I was with him, unlike how I felt around Rhys.

I stayed in the bathroom trying in vain to contact Michael for so long that, by the time I emerged, biology was over. Of all my teachers, Mr. Crane was probably the coolest and most easygoing, so I hoped I could make up the assignment another day.

After scanning the hall for Rhys, who was nowhere to be seen, I went to my other morning classes and formulated my plan for how to deal with the faery king. Even though he’d tried to hide it, I’d definitely seen a flicker of fear in his eyes. He didn’t know what I was capable of. I’d use that to my advantage and scare him back to Faeryville. It was worth a try.

It felt like forever before lunch arrived, but when it did I entered the cafeteria, grabbed a sandwich and a piece of fruit — an apple a day keeps nasty prophecies away — and started walking over to the center table that the Royal Party called home.

Despite my recent friendship with Melinda, I was still considered an outsider. At least, that’s the impression I always got from Melinda’s, well … ladies-in-waiting was probably the best way to describe the brunette Larissa and redheaded Brittany. The three of them had been closer friends before I’d arrived. Now Melinda either spent time hanging out with me or going to her after-school dance lessons — her latest obsession.

I didn’t get the usual fiery glares from them when I approached the table. They were too busy gawking at the cute guy seated next to Melinda.

It was Rhys, of course. Melinda had obviously swooped in at her first opportunity and snagged him. For a moment I tried to look at him the way she probably did. He was inarguably good-looking and had an effortless confidence about him that helped him stand out in a crowd. However, the moment his gaze shifted to me I could see the gold flecks in his eyes appear to swirl, as if I bothered him on some deeper level he couldn’t hide — at least not from me.

“There she is,” Rhys said with a nod in my direction.

I tensed. Had he been talking about me? And saying what?

Instead of shock or horror at whatever they’d been discussing regarding yours truly, Melinda looked at me with confusion in her blue eyes.

“I thought you said you didn’t know Rhys,” she said.

Caught in a lie. Not good.

I cleared my throat. “I’d forgotten that we do kind of know each other already.”

“Kind of?”

Rhys smiled, but it looked forced. “It’s a family thing.”

“You two are related?” Brittany asked with interest, twisting a long piece of red hair around her manicured index finger. “That’s so cool!”

Rhys let out a genuine laugh at that, and his face shifted into something much more pleasant. It wasn’t hard to see why Melinda thought he was megahot. “Not even slightly related, trust me. No, our families … well, they’ve never really seen eye to eye on most things, have they, Nikki?”

I didn’t know much about faery-demon relations, but I imagined they weren’t particularly pleasant. After all, faeries wouldn’t need the Shadowlands’ barrier to protect them from the Underworld and Hell if everyone was good buddies with each other, would they?

But my father … well, he was a demon, but he also ruled the Shadowlands, which kept faeries and humans safe from the bad demons. And yet, Rhys wanted to lump him in with the others. Figures.

“You could say that,” I replied stiffly.

Rhys hadn’t taken his eyes off me for a moment since I’d approached the table. “No offense intended, of course, but I’d even go so far as to call Nikki’s family … demonic .”

He wasn’t pulling any punches today, was he?

Melinda’s eyebrows raised. “Wow, that’s harsh. I’ve met Nikki’s mom. She’s really nice.”

“Just my opinion, I guess.” Rhys shrugged.

Not sure why it hadn’t occurred to me yet, but I suddenly realized, crystal clear, that Rhys didn’t just dislike me, he completely hated my guts. Because I was half demon? Or just because I was me ?

I cleared my throat, feeling the now-familiar irritation toward him bubbling up to replace my uncertainty. I wanted to hate him in return. It really was the least I could do.

He glowered at me, his irises swirling their strange mix of molten gold and chocolate brown. Was I the only one who could see that very inhuman trait of his? Melinda was looking right at him and wasn’t reacting as if anything was strange, so it had to be true. Maybe he didn’t currently have wings and pointy ears, but he was so not human that I could sense it from ten feet away.

Stress began to mix with frustration as we stared at each other and I clutched my sandwich a bit too tightly, my nails popping right through the plastic container. I looked down to see that my regularly short polished fingernails had turned long, red, and razor sharp. I dropped the sandwich in surprise and whipped my hands behind me to hide them.