"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.
He'd followed me home. He knew where 1 lived.
I dropped my backpack with a thud and went to the phone. I'd call 911. They'd take care of my escaped-mental-patient stalker. Just as I reached for the phone, it rang and I shrieked, nearly jumping right out of my skin.
I picked it up and held it to my ear.
"H-h-hello?" I croaked out.
"I didn't know you had a stutter," Melinda said, obviously amused. "You should probably work on that. Listen, I wanted to know if anything else happened with Chris. Since I'm your official matchmaker, I'm painfully curious."
"Melinda," I whispered. "You have to help me."
"Help you? With what?"
My hand was sweating and I cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could wipe it against my jeans. "That guy from the cafeteria. He followed me home. He stopped me in the park and told me the craziest things."
"He followed you home? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. But he's outside my house right now."
"Have you called the cops?" she asked, concern now evident in her voice.
"I was going to, but you called first."
"What did this freak tell you?"
"He said that I'm the daughter of a demon king from another dimension. And he wanted to take me to this other dimension to meet him."
"A demon king," she repeated.
"Yeah." When she didn't say anything for a moment, I prompted, "Melinda?"
"This sounds too crazy to even come from a crazy guy. Besides, the guy in the cafeteria looked like a loser, but not a crazy loser."
"I don't know what to do."