Reign or Shine

by Michelle Rowen

  I gaped at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  I shook my head, my eyes going wider with every passing second. “No, that’s impossible. I don’t want to be queen. I don’t want to live here.” I was starting to hyperventilate at the very idea that I had no choice in this. I was used to people telling me what I had to do—my mom, Melinda, even Michael, now—but that was nothing compared to this. “I’m so, so sorry that you’re dying, but I can’t live here. I don’t want to be a demon. I don’t want any of this.”

  I felt Michael touch my arm and my first thought was to push him away, but instead I grabbed hold of him and hugged him tightly, pressing my face against his chest. He held his hand over his amulet so I could avoid getting zapped. He didn’t say anything, but I felt him stroke my hair, trying to soothe me.

  It worked, but it took a minute. When I’d composed myself, I turned again to my father, who looked incredibly distressed by this entire conversation. It obviously wasn’t any easier on him than it was on me.

  That helped. A little.

  “Nikki,” my father began.

  “Please,” I said, and I could hear the desperation in my voice. “There has to be another way.”

  “There is.” His smile held but it was sad. “But first I wanted to see how you felt about the situation. Now I have.”

  He pulled out a chain from underneath his shirt. It was a gold chain, thinner than the one Michael wore, and on the end of it was a dark red glass bottle no bigger than my thumb. He pulled the chain over his head and handed it to me.

  I took it from him and, looking down at it, I realized the bottle wasn’t red at all, but the liquid inside of it was. “What is this?”

  “A magic potion. For you.”

  9

  I frowned at him so deeply it hurt. “A magic potion?”

  He nodded. “It will remove any trace of demon from you and the kingdom will no longer recognize you as my heir.”

  My eyes were wide. “I don’t understand.”

  “This is the only way your life can remain normal and untouched by all of this. Drink the potion and you will become completely human. You won’t have to deal with the complications of being a Darkling. As I said, I don’t truly know how your powers will fully manifest and that worries me greatly.”

  “You and me both,” I managed.

  “Also, if you don’t want to accept the responsibility of taking the throne when I die, this is the only way to avoid that. By drinking this you will be safe in all ways.”

  The gold chain hung off my hand and I looked at the bottle. It felt cool against my sweaty palm. My other hand, I suddenly realized, was clutching Michael’s wrist very tightly.

  “I can’t believe it’s that easy,” I said.

  “It is.” My father hesitated. “However, there is a side effect of the potion that you should be aware of. Once taken, your memories of being half demon, as well as of your trip here to the Shadowlands, will fade away.”

  I looked at Michael and then back to my father. “You mean I’d forget about Michael, too?”

  My father’s brow knitted. “Michael, I think this is a good time for you to fetch Elizabeth for me. Please tell her that Nikki has arrived.”

  Michael cleared his throat and disengaged his hand from mine. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  I watched Michael quickly leave the room without a backward glance. “He sure follows orders well here, doesn’t he?”

  “Servants are required to follow the orders of their master.”

  The room went very silent, except for the sound of the fireplace crackling and my heart fluttering like a trapped bird.

  “I don’t think I heard you right,” I began. “Did you just say that Michael is a servant?”

  “Yes, of course. In fact, when I sent him to the human realm, he was specifically assigned to be your servant.” He frowned. “Didn’t he tell you that?”

  I made a beeline for that goblet of water again and took a shaky sip before answering. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “He should have told you. It is unacceptable that he didn’t. Shadows are servants to demonkind.”

  My head was spinning. A servant. Michael was a servant? “What is a Shadow?”

  “The Shadowlands were once home to beings called Shadows. They were a part of the chaos that threatened the worlds beyond before the demons brought order here again. The Shadows that remained afterward were enslaved to us.”

  I felt stunned. “So you’re saying he’s a . . . a slave?”

  My father looked confused by my stuttering reaction to this news. “We treat our Shadows very well and give them many freedoms, but yes. If it wasn’t for us they would have been completely destroyed. Michael has been particularly helpful to me over the years.”

  “He lives here?”

  “Yes, he was brought to the castle as a child—he is unaffected by the unavoidable solitude this place brings with it. Since he is around your age, I thought him best to travel to the human realm to bring you to see me. He’s been very loyal to me, and because of this I’ve given him certain privileges that most Shadows would never be allowed. But . . .” He looked at me sharply. “Michael is not boyfriend material, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  My face flushed. “Boyfriend material?”

  “Even if he wasn’t a Shadow . . . you are a princess, and therefore high above a mere servant.”

  “I’m starting to figure out why he didn’t want to tell me what he really was,” I said icily.

  My father’s expression grew more severe. “You asked Michael a direct question and he refused to answer?”

  “No. Please, forget it.”

  “I recognize the signs, Nikki, and it worries me.”

  “The signs?”

  “He doesn’t look at you as I’d expect a servant to look at a princess. I fear that he’s forgotten his place. I’ll have to speak with him.”

  I couldn’t believe this. Why hadn’t Michael just told me? Because he was embarrassed? Ashamed of what he was?

  “Michael saved my life,” I said, for lack of anything else to say.

  He stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “There was a guy with a knife earlier when I was walking home from school. He tried to kill me and Michael saved me. That . . . that amulet he wears—he was able to blast the guy away like he was nothing.”

  It took my father a moment to say anything to that. “Why didn’t he mention this to me? Shadows aren’t permitted to harness their powers, especially not in the human realm. It’s too dangerous.” He paced the room for a moment. “But if he did it to save you then I suppose this indiscretion can be forgiven.” He turned to look at me again. “Was this attacker a human?”

  “He looked human, but I think he was a demon. He called me Princess.”

  His expression shadowed. “I don’t know how this is possible. Michael is the only one that I authorized to travel to the human realm. How would this assassin even know of your existence?”

  I shrugged. “He could have slipped through.”

  “It must be because my powers are weakened by my illness. It’s the only explanation I can think of.” My father shook his head gravely. “You’re okay, though?”

  I was too focused on these newfound revelations about Michael to obsess any more about the big guy with the knife. “I survived.”

  “I’m very glad.” He didn’t say anything for a moment. And then, “Has Michael told you anything else about himself?”

  “Not much.” I swallowed. “But, he did say that if he didn’t return here in a couple of days he’d die. Is that true?”

  My father stood up and walked toward the fire. The light illuminated his stern, handsome features. “The green stone amulet he wears is made from what was once a large deposit here in the Shadowlands back when his kind ruled. They drew their power from it.”

  “Do all Shadows have green eyes?” I asked.

  He looked at me. “Yes
, they do.”

  “When he blasted the guy, the amulet kind of went dull and so did the color of his eyes.”

  “He was weakened from using his abilities in the human realm.”

  “But he recovered. Kind of like recharging his battery.”

  He nodded. “Yes, it is much like that. Michael needs his amulet to sustain his life force. In order to take the land, the demons had to destroy the deposit and clear most of it away. But since Shadows need it for survival, they were each given a small piece of it that they could wear on the outside of their clothing at all times. To keep the energy charged, Michael must remain in the Shadowlands or the Underworld, or else he will steadily weaken.”

  I tried to add this new information to my already full brain. On the bright side, my headache from earlier hadn’t shown up ever since the incident with Robert. “I don’t understand why the demons had to take the land at all. Why couldn’t they share it with the Shadows?”

  My father’s harsh expression softened with a small smile. “You are asking me to condense a millennium of history into a few minutes. Shadows are . . . very stubborn, difficult to control, and as you saw by what Michael did to your assailant, they are also very powerful when they have the chance to be. They are unpredictable by nature. When presented with the option of joining us, the Shadow king declined. Rather rudely, from what I understand. Unfortunately, they left us with no other choice but to use force.” He paused for a moment. “Michael is a direct descendant of that king, so he does come by his insolence naturally.”

  I sucked in a breath of air and clutched the side of the table tightly. “So he’s actually a prince?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Michael is your servant. And neither he nor you should ever forget that.”

  I heard something at the entranceway and looked over. Michael had reentered the room in time to hear the last thing my father had said. His expression looked stricken.

  “Michael,” my father said, “why didn’t you tell Nikki who you really are?”

  His gaze was now firmly fixed on the floor. “I should have, Your Majesty.”

  “Please tell her now.”

  I could barely breathe. Why was my father making him do this?

  Then Michael glanced at me and our eyes met. He looked ashamed—of who he was or of how he had kept the truth from me, I didn’t know—and it made my heart twist sharply.

  “I am your servant, Princess.” He choked out the words. “And it was wrong of me to keep this from you. I’m very sorry.”

  That’s why he called me Princess instead of Nikki. It was a term of respect. He’d been assigned to find me, tell me about who I was, and keep me safe. He didn’t tell me who he was—he was vague and avoided the question—because he didn’t want me to know the truth.

  But now I knew.

  “Michael, you can wait downstairs until Nikki is ready to go home,” my father said sternly. “Thank you.”

  Michael turned and left the room.

  I felt sick. He’d been completely humiliated. I wanted to hate my father for what had just happened, but when I looked at him he simply looked back at me curiously, as if he couldn’t understand why I was so upset.

  Servants were a normal daily thing for him here, and what he’d done hadn’t been cruel or unusual for him. But not for me. Not like that. And not to Michael.

  “What is it, Nikki?” he asked softly. “Why are you upset?”

  Before I could say anything, somebody else walked into the room. It was a beautiful woman with long blonde hair, flawless translucent skin, and a wide, friendly smile.

  For some reason, my already aching heart dropped a little more. The queen. Had to be. My father may have felt badly about leaving my mother all those years ago, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t moved on.

  “My goodness,” she said. “What did you say to Michael? He looked very distressed.”

  “He’ll be fine,” my father said. “Please, Elizabeth, come and meet Nikki.”

  She didn’t take her attention off me as she approached and reached out to clasp my hand in hers. “Nikki,” she said, beaming at me, “I’m so thrilled to meet you. I’m Desmond’s sister, Elizabeth.”

  I raised my eyebrows with surprise at that introduction. “You’re my aunt. So you’re not married to my father?”

  She smiled a bit wider. “Well, that would be rather inappropriate, wouldn’t it?” Then her smile faded a bit. “You also look rather distressed. This is all horribly overwhelming for you, isn’t it?”

  “You could say that.”

  She touched my shoulder. “I know. Believe me, I know. This would be surprising news—to find out your Darkling nature—on a good day. Let alone with everything else that’s happening here. . . .” Her eyes grew misty and she glanced over her shoulder. “Are you feeling all right, Desmond?”

  He’d moved to the table and leaned against it, a hand to his stomach again. “Well enough.”

  Even I could tell he was lying. He was feeling pain again and, despite what had happened with Michael, concern for him welled up inside me.

  Elizabeth shook her head and then went to the long black table. She poured a goblet of water from the pitcher there and brought it to him.

  “Drink this,” she said.

  He lifted it to his lips and drank.

  She glanced at me. “You do know that your father is gravely ill?”

  My throat thickened and I nodded.

  Her attention moved to the vial I still held in my hand. “You’ve given her the potion, Desmond?”

  “I have.”

  My head still swam from all the information I’d received. Meeting my aunt only added to it. “So if I take the potion . . . when my father . . . when he . . .” I swallowed, not wanting to finish that sentence. “Who will take over the throne?”

  Elizabeth helped my father into the chair and stroked the hair back from his face. His skin had gone very pale.

  “Elizabeth and I have already discussed this, Nikki,” my father said weakly. “She’s consented to take the throne. After you, she’s next in line.”

  “So that means . . . ,” I began. “That . . . that you won’t be able to leave here either? That you’ll be stuck here in this castle?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll manage. Although, I may consider redecorating.” Elizabeth gave me a small smile. “Truly, Nikki, it’s the best solution in this unfortunate matter. You shouldn’t have to deal with this burden at your age. Especially only learning about it now.”

  When my father died, Elizabeth would be trapped here without being allowed to leave, and she was doing it of her own free will.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t be. I only wish I could have met you before all of this. I would have loved the chance to get to know you better.”

  I clutched the vial tightly in my hand and thought how when I drank its contents I’d forget all of this. I’d forget my father, and Elizabeth . . . and Michael. I hadn’t known any of them a couple of days ago and now it actually hurt to think that I wouldn’t be able to see them again.

  But it was the only way.

  My father let out a small groan of pain. And then a larger one as he stood up, then doubled over and clutched the side of the table.

  “Desmond.” Elizabeth grabbed his shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  “No . . .” He gritted his teeth. “I need to go back to my room. I . . . I feel poorly. Very poorly.”

  And then he yelled out. The sound of his pain cut right through me like an icy wind.

  I ran to his side. “Dad—”

  “No, get away.” His voice came out loud and gravelly. “Please, Nikki. Don’t come any closer.”

  I heard a ripping sound and watched with horror as two large, black, leathery wings unfurled from his back. His hands went out to his sides and long, sharp claws emerged from the tips of his fingers.

  I took a step back and covered my mouth with my hand.

  He straightened
up and looked at me. His eyes were red with catlike slits and appeared to glow in the semi-darkness of the room. There were horns—big, black, curved horns—protruding from the sides of his head. His face had grown unrecognizable, sharper, more pointed, his skin now black as coal. I got a glimpse of his teeth, which were now pointed and as sharp as razors.

  He covered his stomach with a clawed hand—his chest had grown larger and muscular enough to burst the buttons on his gray shirt—and he convulsed. Even in demon form he was still in terrible pain.

  “Nikki,” he said in that strange, demonic voice, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this and be afraid.”

  I believe my answer to that may have been a short, terrified scream. I’m not entirely positive.

  He gasped for breath. “Drink the potion and forget about all of this. It’s for the best.”

  His now-sharp jaw clenched and with a last look at me, the demon king turned and quickly left the room.

  10

  I stood in place shaking from head to foot.

  My father was a demon.

  A monster with big, black, batlike wings and sharp teeth like something out of a nightmare.

  “No,” I said out loud, shaking my head, even though I’d now seen it with my own eyes. It was true. There was no denying it anymore. I started to cry. I couldn’t hold it in. My chest heaved with sobs.

  I felt a warm hand on my back and I jumped, spinning around. It was Elizabeth. I scrambled back from her. She was a demon, too, and she would look like my father in her demon form. This human form—it wasn’t real. It was just a lie. She was evil. Demonic.

  “Nikki.” Her eyes were glossy. “Please, don’t be afraid. I know this is difficult for you, but please just try to calm down.”

  I looked over at the entranceway. Where was Michael? He’d said he’d stay by my side and not leave me, and now he was gone. Why? He’d promised that nobody was going to hurt me.

  And nobody had. Nobody had hurt me.

  I forced myself to breathe normally and I looked at Elizabeth—really looked at her. She didn’t look evil or demonic. She looked concerned. For me. She’d backed away after my reaction to her to give me some space.