Michael didn’t go to school here. He also wasn’t exactly what you’d call a normal boyfriend. In fact, he was about as nonnormal as you could get. He wasn’t a human. Or a demon. He was a Shadow, and he lived in my father’s castle. Shadows were enslaved to demons and had been practically forever. It was ridiculous and outdated. From what I’d seen, the Shadowlands were seriously like something out of Medieval Times dinner theater. Only no jousting. Or turkey drumsticks.

Demons and Shadows were forbidden to be together as anything other than master and servant. Also ridiculous.

And get this: my father had originally assigned Michael to be my personal servant. But I didn’t think of him that way at all. Plus, since Michael put his life on the line to help defeat my aunt late last Friday night, I’d made my father promise Michael wouldn’t have to be a servant anymore. That was the last time I’d seen either of them.

It was all complicated enough to give me a big fat headache when I thought about it for too long. I rubbed my temples and finally opened my locker so I could unload my backpack and grab my books for the first class of the day — biology. I had it on fairly good authority that today was dissect-a-frog day. I was looking forward to that disgusting prospect only a little more than my now-inevitable conversation with Chris.

“So your party’s definitely on, huh?” I asked, trying to concentrate on something else.

Melinda nodded as she stuck her head back into her locker. “Saturday night starting at eight.” She hesitated. “Chris is coming. Is that going to be a problem?”

“A problem? No, of course not.”

Sure it was.

I was finding it difficult not to obsess about Chris. He was going to be a big problem. Would he tell anyone what he’d seen? Would anyone believe him? And if so, what would happen then? Would I be able to deal with it?