Мишель Роуэн - Reign or Shine

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?"

He stopped. "I know this is a lot to grasp."

"No, not at all," I said. "I'm a half-demon princess. Sure. What's so hard to grasp about that?"

Michael was crazy. Certifiable. Maybe that's why I'd never seen him around school before-because he didn't go there at all. He was an escaped mental patient. Somebody dangerous and about to have a major psychotic break if he hadn't already had one. And for some reason I'd managed to work my way into his delusion. Just great. It was sick and twisted, and I'd feel sorry for him if I didn't feel incredibly concerned for my own safety.

He eyed me warily. "So you accept everything I've told you?"

"Demons don't exist." "Yes, they do." "No, they don't."

He sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to explain it properly. That's why you have to come with me and see for yourself."

I backed up a step. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Please, Princess, your father needs to see you. You have to come with me-" But I wasn't listening anymore. I turned and ran away from him as fast as my feet could carry me, thundering up the stairs in record time and down the street to my house where I slammed the door behind me and tried to put Michael out of my mind forever.

Just as I'd expected, the house was empty when I got home. I turned the lock and stood with my back against the door, trying to bring my breathing back to normal while my head throbbed with pain.

I still had the envelope he'd given me clutched in my fist.

At least I'd gotten away from him. I guess I was a faster runner than I thought. I let out a long, shaky breath and tried to relax.

I was home. I was safe. Everything was fine.

Breathe.

I went into the kitchen and saw that my mother had left me a plate of food in the fridge-vegetable lasagna and salad-and a note reminding me about the party that night.

I wasn't hungry. Not even for leftover birthday cake.

When I passed the door again, I glanced out the side window and felt my insides freeze.

Michael was in front of my house at the end of the driveway.

Just standing there.

My heartbeat, which had just calmed down to normal, picked up its pace and panic welled up inside me again.