Reign Fall (12 page)

“Shadows,” I said bluntly.

His relaxed expression became a bit pinched. “I can give you information on Shadows.

They’re servants. They work for demons. They’re meaningless workers who take orders and bring tea and clean toilets.”

I shook my head. “I should have known better than to ask you anything.”

“What? I’m telling the truth. Faeries do that.”

“Bite me, Rhys.”

“Where?” he asked, then he grinned. “Oh come on, Nikki. Don’t be grumpy with me. You ask a stupid question, you get a stupid answer.”

I felt my face go red from how frustrating he was being. And it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. I think he’d already met his daily quota for being annoying. “I really hate you sometimes.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate.”

I glared at him. “Dream on.”

He shrugged again, clearly finding my aggravation hilarious. “Why are you asking about Shadows? Let me take a wild guess. Michael wants to know more about his lowly heritage?”

“Can’t you be nice for once?”

“Sure I can. I’m one of the nicest people I know. But not toward him.”

“You’re just mad because I have clearly chosen the lowly Shadow servant over the high and mighty king.”

“Ah, vanity. Thy name is Nikki Donovan, thinking all boys are dropping at her magnificent royal feet and begging to date her.” He snorted. “Besides, whoever said you had a choice in the matter?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? And, by the way, I’m not vain.” He leaned back in his chair, his lips thinning. “Look, I know you’re mortified about the prophecy. That makes two of us. I have issues with demons, you already know that. When I told my advisors about the prophecy, I expected that they’d go ballistic and forbid me from ever seeing you again. But, no. They’re actually thrilled, which is why they didn’t make a huge deal over me coming back here for a while longer. They think this is the opportunity for relations between the light and dark worlds to improve. They’re already planning the royal wedding.” I felt the color drain from my face. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Not joking.”

“I’m not marrying you.”

“I never asked you to. But let’s just say, in the grand scheme of things, whatever emo angst your servant boy is going through pales in comparison to the mess I need to deal with over this fiasco.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything to your advisors. You told me that they don’t like you very much to begin with. Not that I blame them at all.”

“The lady,” he muttered, “doth protest too much, methinks.”

“What is that? Shakespeare? Really? You are so lame.”

“I can’t help it if I’m well read.” He was silent for a moment, but the privacy bubble didn’t let up. We only had another minute before class started. “What do you need to know about Shadows?”

I didn’t say anything for a few seconds, waiting for the punch line. Then I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “You’re willing to help me?”

“Maybe. What do you want?”

I took a deep breath and decided to be completely honest with him. It seemed to be the theme of the week for me. “I need a book that only kings and queens have access to. It’s the only book about Shadows that hasn’t been lost or destroyed. It’s something that could give Michael the details about what he is. Shadows are kept in the dark about most of their history. So can you do that? Can you get me that book?”

He studied me. “Ask me nicely.”

I restrained myself from coming back with a cutting remark. I exhaled slowly and willed myself to remain calm and polite. “Please, Rhys. Help me find this book about Shadows.” He appeared to consider it for a moment before he nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it. But I want something in return. Faeries barter. It’s kind of our way.” Why wasn’t I surprised? “What do you want?”

He was silent so long I wondered if he’d actually reply.

“A kiss,” he finally said.

I blinked with surprise. “Excuse me?”

“For delivering this hard-to-get book of information for your lowly boyfriend that might just contain his sordid family history, I want you to kiss me of your own free will.” He held up a hand. “And not because I’m just dying for another taste of your half-demon lip gloss. It’s just that at Melinda’s party, under the mistletoe...”

Oh boy. I really didn’t need the reminder of that right now.

“...I wasn’t exactly myself. I’d had some of your human wine and my mind wasn’t working right. It was all cloudy. Another kiss would prove to me whether or not what I felt that night was...” He trailed off, any of his previous amusement leaving his expression. “Let’s just say, it’s important.”

He’d felt something after that kiss, that was what he was trying to say. And he was confused about what it meant, considering how much he thought he disliked demons...or half-demons.

“So you think another kiss, a sober one, sans mistletoe, would show you if what you felt for me was just wine clouding your mind?”

“Just in case you need a reminder, you
did
kiss me back. It’ll be a two-way experiment.

Maybe you’d like to know the answer to that, too.”

I ignored the heat that immediately came to my cheeks. “That sounds vaguely scientific.”

“Well, this
is
biology class.”

I grimaced. “I’m not kissing you right now.”

The grin returned to his face. “So you’re agreeing to my terms.”

“Get the book and then we’ll negotiate terms.”

“No, that’s not how it works. You agree now and then I’ll get you this definitive book on Shadows. Payment upon delivery. No take-backs.”

I just glared at him. “In case you need a reminder, you are dating my best friend. I don’t think she’d be too thrilled to learn that you’re asking me to kiss you, experiment or not.”

“Melinda doesn’t need to know.”

“Oh my God. You are such a lousy boyfriend.”

“And she’s a lousy girlfriend. I know she’s just using me to keep her demon slayer trainer at a distance.”

I grimaced at the reminder. Rhys knew Melinda’s secret, too. He, just like I, had found (through snooping) that the basement of her house was set up like a gym for training, complete with sharp weapons and dusty old illustrated tomes dedicated to the subject of demons.

“Why don’t you break up with her?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It amuses me to help her when she doesn’t even realize I’m helping. For now, anyway.”

Mr. Crane had started talking at the front of class, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“So, what’ll it be,
Princess
?” Rhys prodded, using my title again annoyingly. “Yes or no?” Information that could help Michael in return for giving Rhys a kiss as payment. Which, no matter what his real motivation, sounded like a really bad idea.

Never in a million years would I admit to this out loud, but Rhys was right about one very disturbing thing. That kiss under the mistletoe...

Well, I’d be lying if I said I felt nothing.

No, I’d definitely felt
something
. Something I’d tucked away and barely glanced at—just like the faery rose Rhys had given to me.

Did I want to kiss Rhys again?

Ugh. I didn’t even
like
Rhys, so why was I even considering this?

I should just think of it as a way to barter for something I wanted. Something totally meaningless to me. I mean, why would I even resist if this was enough to get me what I wanted?

Maybe because I
was
afraid I was going to feel something
again
. Something that would make my life way more complicated than it already was.

But that wasn’t a strong enough reason to say no.

“Fine,” I muttered, now keeping my eyes on the front of class. “I agree.”

“Good. Nice doing business with you.”

The privacy bubble vanished and I could hear everyone around us again, which was probably a good thing since Mr. Crane had just asked me a direct question.

“Nikki,” he said sharply. “Try to keep your mind on class and not on Rhys, okay?” I slumped down further in my chair, embarrassed, while the rest of the class laughed at me.

So glad this was Friday.

Morning classes dragged. And then lunch was uncomfortable since Rhys seemed all over Melinda more than normal.
Gag
. Although, in his defense, she was piling on the fake “we’re so happy together” romance just as thick.

He was trying to make me jealous.

And a very tiny part of me actually
was.

I really hated my life right now.

“They are so cute together,” Brittany said.

“
So
cute,” Larissa agreed. “What do you think, Nikki?” Color me surprised, she’d actually asked for my opinion on something.

“So adorable I could puke,” I said.

“So, sleepover tonight. Fun, right?” Brittany said, cheerily. Out of the two, she’d always been the moderately friendlier one. Larissa and I had an unspoken agreement to despise each other, which we both adhered to. Brittany, though, was a bit of a friendship wild card.

“Should be interesting,” Larissa said. “Despite the guest list.” I shot her a withering look. “Talking about me?”

She frowned. “No, actually. I’m talking about this Clara chick. Do you even know her?”

“I met her earlier this week. She’s also in my geography class,” Brittany confirmed. “She seems really nice.”

“If she’s Melinda’s latest recruit to the group, then where is she for lunches this week?”

“I don’t know.” I shoved my half-eaten sandwich away. “Are we required to eat lunch all together on a daily basis? Sounds restrictive. Chris doesn’t eat with us anymore.”

“No, but Chris is a total psycho now.”

“That’s harsh, Larissa,” Brittany said with a frown.

She shrugged. “It is what it is. Saw him a minute ago outside the guidance counselor’s office.

He was sent there by his art teacher, who looked through his sketch book and got disturbed by what he’s been drawing. A friend of mine’s in his class and told me all about it just before lunch.

You should watch out, Nikki.”

A shiver went down my spine. “Why?”

“She saw at least one sketch of you. I think he’s obsessed with you, although, no offense, I have no idea why. He might be a good artist, but he’s a serious freak of nature now. His mother’s been called to come get him. Maybe she can have him committed somewhere so he doesn’t hurt anyone.”

More sketches of me? I wondered if he’d had another vision, or if this was just more of the same—the winged darkness that was after me.

“It’s coming. And it wants to hurt you. You have something it wants.”
Nothing had happened like that, outside of my nightmare. But I still felt like something was wrong—well, other than everything. A dark sense of foreboding had slowly but steadily crept over me this week from the moment Chris had said that to me.

“I need to go.” I stood up from the table. “I—I have to grab something from the library. I’ll see you at Melinda’s later.”

I left without another word or a good-bye. I didn’t even glance over at Melinda and Rhys again. Rushing through the halls, I headed for the guidance counselor’s office. I had to see this sketchbook. If things had progressed so much that Chris was getting in trouble for his sketches to the point that his mother had been called to get him, that didn’t bode well for them being happy drawings of rainbows and flowers. No, they’d be disturbing pictures, much like the one he’d given to me. I now had two works of art by Chris Sanders in my personal collection. He’d given me another one at Melinda’s holiday party that wasn’t much shinier. More darkness surrounding me that I assumed related to my third prophecy. Maybe they were connected.

That didn’t ease my mind one little bit.

He’d probably be taken out of school. He probably
should
be taken out of school.

Thankfully, I wasn’t too late. He sat on a wooden bench outside of the guidance office, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

“Chris.” I approached him cautiously. He didn’t move. After a moment, I touched his shoulder.

He jumped and pulled his hands away from his face. I inhaled sharply at what I saw.

Chris’s eyes used to be blue-gray. At the moment, though, they were bright amber.

All dragons had amber eyes. Just like all Shadows had green ones.

“Nikki,” he said. He sounded tired, but not crazy or incoherent, which was mildly encouraging.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I’ve been better. My head’s all messed up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I guess I’m going insane.”

I frowned. “No, you’re not. You’re going to be okay, but...what do you mean you don’t know what’s wrong with you? How can you not know yet?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your visions...” I glanced around to see if anyone was within listening distance. “Where’s your sketchbook?”

He jutted his thumb in the direction of the office behind him. “Ms. Matthews took it away from me.”

I hissed out a breath of frustration. “Larissa said somebody saw your book and there were sketches of me in it.”

He tensed a little and the look he gave me was wary. “You seem to be the feature of most of my visions. Guess I feel guilty for what happened the night of Winter Formal. I swear, Nikki, I’ve never tried to do anything like that before.”

I cringed at the memory. “Ancient history. Let’s try to forget about it.”

“I can’t.” His brows drew together. “That guy...that guy I was...I’m not him anymore. I think he died that night.”

“I’m not all that sorry to hear that. I like this Chris better, even if he is a bit confused.” I crouched down next to him and grabbed his hand. He looked so distressed. I wanted to help him.

And it wasn’t just so I could get more information about his visions starring yours truly. I honestly felt bad about what he was going through. He should know the reason behind it. Why hadn’t he been told anything yet?

“What are you, Nikki?” Chris asked. “What did I see that night when you changed? The wings...and your eyes...why do I keep having visions of you? Maybe they’re all just delusions.”

“No, they’re visions and I need you to tell me what they are, in detail. It’s important. You have an amazing gift.”