Read the book: «Romeo and Juliet and Vampires»
ROMEO & JULIET
& Vampires
ADAPTED FROM
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
BY CLAUDIA GABEL
Contents
Cover
Title Page
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOUTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
About the Author
EDITOR’S NOTE
Chapter One PLAYING PILGRIMS
Copyright
About The Publisher
PROLOGUE
TRANSYLVANIA, 1462
For the past six years, the Wallachian Province of Transylvania was ruled by Vlad the Impaler, a ruthless prince responsible for the deaths of forty thousand European people during his reign. Vladimir couldn’t have accomplished this horrific feat alone, of course. A special part of his constituency—a family of vampires known as the Capulets—helped him carry out this murderous rampage by feeding off “undesirables” one by one.
In exchange for their “work", the Capulets were given a large, imposing castle in the southern part of the Carpathian Mountains near the city of Transylvania and anything else their hearts desired. They enjoyed the benefits of being wealthy aristocrats by day, bloodsuckers by night—opulent clothes; priceless jewels; supernatural powers; and immortality. They owned most of the land in the area and had servants to tend to their every whim.
One might say that to be a Capulet was to be both envied and abhorred. However, if you were talking with a Montague, he would have told you that the Capulets were mercenaries of evil who had to be destroyed.
Blessed with a keen sense of intuition and vampire-slaying skills that could not be matched, the Montagues fought the Capulets at every opportunity to keep them from terrorizing the citizens of Transylvania. Their hope was to rid the world of these beasts, once and for all.
But recently the rules of war were changed. Prince Vladimir was ousted from the throne and imprisoned, leaving his half-brother Radu in power. Radu’s first act as prince was to institute a peace treaty in the region of Wallachia, thereby forcing the Montagues and the Capulets into a truce.
But could peace really exist between sworn enemies, especially when one was as bloodthirsty as the Capulet family?
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes, a pair of star-cross’d lovers were fated to find out.
Citizens of Transylvania,
With Vlad the Impaler imprisoned for his crimes against humanity, the era of his violence is officially over. A peace treaty has been reached between the new government and Vladimir’s mercenaries, the Capulets.
If any humans or vampires commit a violent act that results in the injury or death of another, their lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
Abiding by this simple, yet definitive law should lead to civility and tranquillity in our kingdom.
—Prince Radu
CHAPTER ONE
Juliet sat on her bed and stared at her reflection in an ornate gilded mirror, which she held close to her face. With her fingertip, she traced the outline of her rose-hued lips on the glass, repeating the same movement over the subtle slope of her nose and the smooth youthful brow above her indigo-coloured eyes.
She was not one to be vain. But in three days, the simple act of checking to see if a chestnut-coloured tendril had fallen loose from one of her hair combs would not be so simple. Truth be told, it wouldn’t even be possible, for Juliet’s reflection would cease to exist.
“Keep your chin up, my lady,” said a voice from behind her. “God knows it will improve your posture.”
Juliet felt her breath catch in her throat, surprised to hear that someone else was in her chambers. She set the mirror down on her lap and turned towards thedoor, where her beloved nursemaid stood, dressed in a white smock and holding a wooden brush in her hand.
Juliet sighed. Her nurse was here to help her prepare for a lavish ball that her parents were hosting this evening. However, Juliet would rather hide in her chambers for the night than play the role of dutiful daughter in a room full of vampires and strangers—especially since she was in such a sombre mood.
“I have more important things to be concerned about than my posture,” Juliet said as she rose from her bed, still clutching the ivory handle of her mirror.
She walked over to the leaded terrace window and gazed at the snowcapped mountains that lined the far reaches of Transylvania. As a child, she’d dreamed of leaving the castle and disappearing into the hills, where she’d befriend all the wild animals and live off berries. How foolish she had been.
“I suppose you are referring to your birthday.” The nurse strode across the room, her short, meaty legs pounding the marble floor. She stood behind Juliet and removed her mistress’s robe, quickly pulling it off both her arms. “Most girls look forward to turning sixteen. Or am I mistaken?”
Juliet closed her eyes, feeling the last ray of the setting sun tickle her skin through her thin cotton slip. Soon, exposure to direct sunlight would be the kiss of death for her.
“Most girls do not have to kill someone and drink every last drop of their blood in order to live a day past it,” she said.
The nurse circled in front of Juliet and glowered at her. “Well, there’s no sense in wishing for what is unattainable. Now sit back down so I can untangle that nest of hair before Lady Capulet comes to call. We cannot have her seeing you so unkempt.”
Juliet nodded and shuffled over to her bed, heeding the nurse’s command. She knew better than anyone how easy it was to be scared of Lady Capulet.
But there was one thing more frightening than the matriarch of the Capulet family: a surprise raid on the castle by the vampire-slaying Montagues. There had been three security breaches before—guerrilla attacks in retaliation for the brutal murders the Capulets had carried out at the hands of Vlad the Impaler.
In those dire hours, Juliet had always been fiercely protected, mostly by her older cousin Tybalt. But now she couldn’t help but wonder if she would’ve been better off as a casualty. Of course, being dead would free her from her troubles, but dying at the hands of the Montagues would only cause more destruction in Transylvania. The Capulets hated the Montagues with every fibre of their unbeating hearts, and would certainly seek vengeance at any cost. She couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for anyone’s death, regardless of who they were.
Juliet let out a deep breath and tried to force these disconcerting thoughts from her mind. As the hairbrush’s soft bristles massaged her scalp, she recalled a more carefree time, when she used to love counting the brushstrokes and listening to her nurse sing happy folk songs while she worked. When the nurse’s own child died many years ago, she practically adopted Juliet, and Juliet felt she could trust her nurse with anything.
“Don’t you take any pity on me, Nurse?” she asked, her voice despondent and desperate for sympathy. “Or my soon-to-be-damned soul?”
Juliet heard no response as the brush kept moving through her hair. But then there was a pause, and Juliet felt the nurse’s lips press down on the crown of her head.
“I do, child,” the nurse replied tenderly. “When you have doubts, remember that I’ve been preparing my heart for this since you were born. It’s been a wretched task.”
A tear trickled down Juliet’s cheek, which she quickly wiped away. “Thank you, I will.”
The nurse wrapped her arms around Juliet and squeezed. “Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?”
“Yes, switch lives with me,” Juliet said with a small grin.
The nurse laughed into Juliet’s ear. “That is quite a favour to ask.”
“I know, but you cannot blame me for trying,” Juliet replied, her eyes smiling just a little.
Suddenly there was a knock at the chamber door and the nurse snapped to attention.
“I wasn’t expecting her ladyship for another hour or so,” she gasped. The nurse handed Juliet the brush, then raced over to the closet and opened it.
Juliet managed a girlish giggle. Unlike the other vampires who slept until nightfall, Lady Capulet’s eyes always popped open the moment twilight arrived. “Well, my mother does love to keep her human underlings on their toes.”
The nurse fetched Juliet’s robe, shaking her head with disapproval. “Nobody likes a young maiden with a sharp tongue.”
“I suppose it will go well with my new sharp teeth.”
Another knock sounded at the door—loud and demanding.
“Just mind yourself, please,” the nurse advised Juliet.
“Why should I? I have only a few days left of being human. I might as well enjoy myself,” she replied.
“Good heavens. Maybe you should keep your mouth shut altogether,” the nurse said as she smoothed back Juliet’s hair and tied it at the nape of her neck with a black satin ribbon. Then she took a deep breath, walked hastily towards the door, and opened it.
At the sight of Lady Capulet, Juliet shuddered asthough a gust of wind had blown by. The nurse bowed her head respectfully and said, “My lady.”
Without a word or acknowledgment of her daughter’s servant, Lady Capulet floated into the bedchamber, her dainty feet hovering a good six inches off the ground. She was dressed in a long ebony gown, and folded her hands delicately in front of her chest as she gracefully levitated across the room. Her pale yellow skin was utterly flawless and her raven-coloured hair was pulled back tightly in an ornate bun so that her glowing red irises were impossible to ignore.
There were no vampires more beautiful, nor imposing, than Lady Capulet. Juliet could barely blink in her mother’s presence—she was that captivating—and until today, Juliet hadn’t noticed their resemblance. With her transition from human to vampire to come in three days, there was no way she could deny it now.
“Nurse, leave us. I must speak with my daughter in private,” Lady Capulet said firmly.
Juliet’s heart fluttered with dismay. She did not want to lose the support of her most precious ally.
“As you wish,” the nurse replied, bowing her head again and closing the door behind her.
Juliet swallowed hard, hoping something cheerful, like a chirping bird outside her window, would break the uncomfortable silence.
Lady Capulet glided over to the nightstand near Juliet’s bed and held her hand over the top of a copper
oil lamp. A flickering flame suddenly appeared, showering Juliet’s face with a light golden sheen. While all female vampires had some degree of conjuring powers, Lady Capulet’s skills were far above the rest.
“Come, let me see you,” Lady Capulet said, staring deep into Juliet’s eyes and running a long, sharp fingernail down her daughter’s cheek.
Juliet willed herself not to shed any more tears. Lady Capulet did not tolerate babyish behaviour.
“Your colour is already beginning to change,” Lady Capulet said with a proud expression on her face. “Can you tell?”
“I haven’t thought to look, Mother,” Juliet lied, and glanced away.
The first sign of transformation had begun last night—her healthy, pink skin tone was gradually turning pale. Soon her eyes would start to alter in colour—from ice blue to glowing scarlet—and her fingernails would grow long and sharp. The ability to levitate and smell blood would follow, as well as the loss of her reflection and shadow.
But there was one symptom of the transition that was so excruciating, even a vampire as strong as her cousin Tybalt had difficulty handling it—a ravenous hunger that would gnaw mercilessly at her insides, until she performed her initiation rite before midnight on her sixteenth birthday.
The only way for Juliet to stop the transformationwas to refuse initiation, which she desperately wanted to do. The ritual was the final step to becoming a full-fledged vampire, and known only to those within the vampire community. Juliet would have to hunt down a human and kill him—all by herself, and without the help of any accomplice. Then she must ingest every ounce of her victim’s blood until his corpse was nothing but a dry, shrivelled shell. But as abhorrent as the initiation ritual was to Juliet, resisting it would lead to starvation and death. Juliet wasn’t sure she had the stomach for that kind of intense suffering.
Lady Capulet quickly became stern, dropping her hand over the lamp’s flame and extinguishing it. “Are you still trying to pretend that your destiny as a vampire does not await you? That will not do you any good.”
“And what should I do?” The anger in Juliet’s voice was unmistakable. “Embrace a fate that will rid me of my humanity and morality? A fate that will force me to feed off the blood of man, or else dig myself an early grave?”
“Juliet, your theatrics are both tiring and tedious,” said Lady Capulet. “I transitioned on my sixteenth birthday without an ounce of reluctance. And so did your father, and his father before him. All your hand-wringing is a great disrespect to your lineage.”
Juliet lay down on her bed, turning so that her back was to Lady Capulet. “At least we can agree on
this—we are both ashamed of each other.”
The room went eerily quiet and Juliet’s stomach churned. She knew what she had said was horrible, but she was so eager to convince her mother that her family’s lifestyle was, in a word, depraved. At this point, Juliet would say anything to make Lady Capulet realize that feeding on humans was wrong—even if that meant provoking a fight.
“Shame?” Lady Capulet’s voice was loud enough to rattle all the glass in the room. Juliet covered her ears with her hands. “Are we not here, living in this splendid castle like royalty? Are we not the most powerful force in Transylvania, despite the cruel acts of lowly poachers like the Montagues?”
Juliet could feel herself coming undone, so she steeled herself and pretended her nurse was by her side.
“My aim is not to be ungrateful, Mother. It is to be truthful,” Juliet said. “And the truth is that some see the Montagues as vigilantes, and think their actions are justified.”
“Do you share the same sentiment?” Her mother’s stare practically took Juliet’s breath away.
“I do not know how you can live with the blood of thousands on your hands,” Juliet replied after a moment of awkward silence.
“It is easy when you have orders to kill,” Lady Capulet said, smoothing a few stray hairs back withher palms. “But now the peace treaty is threatening our human blood supply, which means we are more vulnerable than we have ever been before.”
“Vulnerable or not, I don’t think I can go through with the initiation. I am sorry to let you down, Mother,” Juliet said.
Lady Capulet floated around Juliet’s covered four-poster bed, then settled in a high-backed armchair so she could look Juliet in the eyes.
“Even in death, my child, you will be a member of the Capulet family.” Juliet’s mother extended her hand into the air and a brown paper envelope materialized above it. “So before you decide to starve yourself, why don’t you carefully consider the alternatives?”
Juliet sat up slowly, reached above her head, and took the envelope in her hand. After loosening the wax seal on the back of it with her thumb, she began to read the wrinkled parchment that was enclosed as Lady Capulet floated out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Dear Juliet,
Your lord and ladyship have shared with me that soon you will become a full member of the vampire race. I would like to extend my heartfelt congratulations to you. All the special powers you have yet to possess will serve you well and you will take great joy in them. And though you feel conflicted about your initiation rite, I know you will eventually come to understand that immortality is a treasure worth killing for.
It must seem odd receiving such an intimate letter from a stranger, but I am pleased to inform you that I will be attending the Capulet ball. Some find my nature to be plain, but my reputation in our ranks is highly esteemed. In any case, I am very anxious to meet you.
With noble intentions, Count Paris
Juliet crumpled up the letter and held it tightly in both her hands. She knew other maidens her age had received notes like this before and wound up married to strangers their parents had picked out for them.
Juliet’s skin prickled with nervous chills just thinking of it, so she pulled the covers up to her chin, gripping the fabric tightly with her fingers. If her mother thought that a romance—especially one that was prearranged—would rid Juliet of her depression, she was sorely mistaken.
CHAPTER TWO
At the bottom of the steep, rocky hill upon which Capulet Castle was erected stood the Montague family arsenal. Built as large as a fortress with Gothic architecture as beautiful as any cathedral, no structure in Transylvania was as intimidating or awe-inspiring. With the dreaded Prince Vladimir now imprisoned for his heinous crimes, and Vlad’s half-brother Radu proclaiming this a new era of “peace", the Montagues had been ordered to close their arsenal.
However, despite Prince Radu’s hope for harmony and order, the Montagues continued to store and maintain a considerable amount of weaponry—battle-axes, wooden pikes, broadswords, quarterstaffs, and the like—in case of a vampire crisis. Needless to say, most of the Montagues did not believe that the Capulets were capable of honouring a long-term truce. In their opinion, the vampires were an evil plague on humanity, and the only way to stop them was by stamping them out, one by one.
On the night of the Capulet ball, Romeo Montague—the youngest gentleman of the brood—sat in his family’s draughty arsenal, sharpening his father’s parrying daggers and misericord knives with his older cousin Benvolio and his dear friend Mercutio. Romeo had been working on one knife for the last ten minutes, his sand-coloured hair flopping over his brown eyes and his mind totally lost in a daydream. This is what set him apart from the rest of the Montagues—fighting vampires wasn’t the only thing he thought about.
“If you do not keep your attention on your blade there, Romeo, you will have one less finger with which to tie your bootlaces,” Benvolio said, grinning.
Romeo drew his gaze back from a dripping leak in one of the stone walls, returning it to the knife sharpener in his hands. “That would probably hurt less than this broken heart of mine.”
Mercutio groaned as he examined a well-used crossbow. “My God, Romeo. Are you still lamenting over that grizzly beast Rosaline Capulet?”
Recently Romeo had become obsessed with a fair and lovely maiden named Rosaline. On several occasions, he had tried to talk to her, but she just ignored him. It had really hurt his feelings.
“Of course he is, Mercutio! Those half-breed females are quite enticing,” Benvolio said in reply. “I heard from Raulfe the blacksmith that they smell just like bacon.”
Romeo slammed the knife and sharpener down on a worktable so that they made a loud clanging sound.
“You are two of the most ignorant bastards in Transylvania,” he said.
“And handsome, too,” Mercutio joked.
Romeo was unable to prevent himself from smirking. “The only one who thinks so is your mother.”
“What are you implying? That my mother has bad taste?” Mercutio said, apparently offended.
“If you ask me, Romeo, you are the one whose taste is laughable,” Benvolio added.
“Is that so?” Romeo could feel his pulse rising. He had a short temper when his cousin and friend made fun of him, which unfortunately was quite often.
“Yes, a half-breed Capulet is not worthy of anything but scorn and suspicion.” Benvolio picked up a long-sword and ran a gloved finger over the silver blade, making sure it was sharp.
“Rosaline is a human being, not a half-breed,” Romeo stated firmly.
“Just for now,” Mercutio corrected. “Next year at this time, she will become a vampire. And what will you do then? Watch as she eats live goats?”
Benvolio nudged Mercutio with a devilish grin on his round face. “Perhaps you are being too hasty with your criticism. Her wildness could do Romeo a great deal of service … especially in bed.”
Mercutio slapped his leg as he laughed. “Honestly, Benvolio, I would be wary of dropping my trousers in front of my wife if she had fangs.”
“And an uncontrollable appetite for blood,” Benvolio said, chuckling.
A flood of anger ripped through Romeo’s body. He made his hands into fists and brought them up to his face. “How about we settle this debate the old-fashioned way, Benvolio?”
Another chuckle erupted from Benvolio’s belly. “You are barely sixteen and have not fought anyone in your life. I would crush you in seconds.”
Romeo’s older cousin spoke the truth. In his family’s crusade against Vladimir’s vampire army, Romeo had no kills, or even serious injuries, to his credit. Though his cousin teased him mercilessly about this, his parents thought he was still too young for combat. A part of Romeo was relieved to have been spared the ugliness of the war. He believed in protecting the villagers from anyone who would do them harm, but as he gaped at all the weaponry that surrounded him, he feared that his family was becoming more and more like the murderers they had vowed to stop.
Still, wasn’t the honour of Rosaline’s name worth taking a beating for? Besides, Romeo had learned excellent long-sword skills from his father, the master vampire slayer Lord Montague. Perhaps he could beat his cousin by using a few tricks he had been secretly perfecting. There was only one way to know.
“Hear this, Benvolio!” Romeo shouted, jumping onto the worktable and snatching a long-sword that was hanging on the wall. He aimed the pointed tip at his cousin and said, “Prepare for me to butcher you, you fat ugly cow!”
Benvolio and Mercutio looked at each other and burst into a riotous fit of laughter.
“Come down from there, Romeo. You’re going to fall off that table, smack your head on the ground, and split it open,” Mercutio warned him.
“Let the cow fight his own battles, Mercutio,” Romeo said.
“Have it your way, Cousin.” Benvolio nodded his head at Mercutio, who quickly took a finely crafted long-sword out of a leather sheath and handed it to him. Benvolio went into a strong fighting stance and held the sword up with his right hand. “Let the thrashing of your life begin!”
Romeo narrowed his eyes at Benvolio as his cousin leaped on to the table. He immediately lunged forward, barely allowing Romeo any time to react. Romeo blocked Benvolio’s strike with a mighty jab of his sword, and then swiftly shoved him with his left hand.Benvolio stumbled back a few steps, almost falling off the edge of the table. When he regained his balance, he grinned.
“Nicely done,” he said, impressed. “I did not know you had that in you.”
“Oh, I am full of surprises,” Romeo said.
Benvolio charged again, his sword aiming high at Romeo’s head. Romeo ducked at the last moment and then swept his sword near Benvolio’s feet, hoping to trip him up. Benvolio was too fast, though, blocking Romeo’s sword with his own, all the while a smug look forming on his face.
“Come on, Romeo! Get him!” Mercutio called out from the corner of the room.
Benvolio swiped at Romeo two more times with his sword, which Romeo defended easily. “Why are you cheering for him and not me?”
“I always bet on the underdog!” Mercutio said.
Romeo saw that his opponent was distracted and whipped his sword at Benvolio’s left arm. The tip of the blade cut a hole in Benvolio’s shirt from his elbow to his shoulder.
“Damn you! This is one of my favourites!” Benvolio growled.
“I am not the least bit sorry,” Romeo said.
“You will be in a moment,” Benvolio said, swinging his sword at Romeo rapidly.
Romeo dodged three of Benvolio’s swipes in a row. But then, Benvolio’s shiny metal blade sliced down towards his legs, and Romeo spun out of the way just in time. He wasn’t so lucky when Benvolio charged at him again—Romeo was forced off the worktable and hit the floor, face-first.
Romeo groaned in pain at the blunt impact, then slowly rolled over on to his back and touched his nose with the palm of his left hand. He craned his head up to see if there was blood on it, and sighed when he saw his guess was correct.
Out of breath and sweating profusely, Benvolio yanked the sword out of Romeo’s grip, his playful mood suddenly turned serious. “It is your turn to hear me now. You are deluded, Romeo. Vampires do not have the capability to love. They are heartless and their only intentions are to kill.”
“You are wrong,” Romeo spat out as he sat up and wiped his bloodied nose with the sleeve of his shirt.
Mercutio helped Romeo up off the floor. “I am afraid he is right, and your father would wholeheartedly agree—not to mention skin you alive if he knew you were consorting with the enemy.”
“So instead I should follow your example and consort with women who smell like a barnyard and taste like cheap whisky?” Romeo said as he dusted himself off.
“Enough of this blathering. We have a good fifty or
more weapons to tend to,” Mercutio said, and pointed to double bows that needed to be restrung.
“So do you plan on visiting a harlot’s bed this evening, Mercutio? Is that why you are in a hurry?” Benvolio asked with a laugh.
Mercutio got out some wooden stakes and stacked them on the floor, readying them for inspection. “I wish. I had plans with Maribel, a servant maid from Capulet Castle, but she cancelled because she has to work at that ridiculous ball for the prince. She’d promised me a foot massage, so I’m quite disappointed.”
“She is better off serving food to those bloodsuckers than touching your calluses,” Benvolio said.
“It depends on who this servant maid is,” Romeo said, relieved that the tension in the air had lifted. “How ugly is she?”
Mercutio sneered at Romeo. “Maribel is not ugly, you imbecile. In fact, she’s quite attractive. Even more so than her mistress, Rosaline.”
Romeo’s mouth hung open. “You are courting Rosaline’s maid servant? Since when?!”
“Only a few days. But we haven’t mentioned you and Rosaline at all, if that is what you are worried about,” Mercutio said.
Romeo was thrilled by his friend’s revelation. It was entirely possible this Maribel was a trusted confidante of Rosaline’s. If he could somehow charm and impress the woman, perhaps she would speak kindly of him to Rosaline and convince her mistress to give him a chance. If he didn’t act on this news now, he would regret it for the rest of his life.
“Tonight I will win Rosaline’s favour,” Romeo said with a renewed spirit. “And both of you are going to help me.”
Mercutio narrowed his eyes at Romeo. “How do you propose we do that?”
“You will convince your pretty maid servant to sneak us into the ball so that I can see Rosaline,” he answered.
“A few moments ago my lady friend was ugly, and now all of a sudden she is pretty,” Mercutio said.
“Like I said, I’m full of surprises,” Romeo said with a smile.
Benvolio did nothing to mask his frustration. “This is ridiculous, Romeo. And dangerous to the point of suicide!” he said. “We’ve never gone to the castle at night. The vampires will outnumber us by the hundreds.”
But Romeo would not be persuaded by Benvolio’s gift for reasoning. “We can go in disguise and blend into the crowd undetected. No one will even know we are there.”
“This is the most preposterous plan ever created,” Mercutio said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I refuse to take any part in it.”
“So do I,” Benvolio echoed.
“Well, if you don’t come along, I will go to Capulet Castle all by myself,” Romeo said with confidence.
Benvolio and Mercutio traded an uncomfortable glance while Romeo waited for their response. Benvolio nodded, and Mercutio took a hefty wooden stake from the top of the pile, offering it to Romeo as though it were a family heirloom.
“We must shave a few of these down so they will fit underneath our coats,” Mercutio said.
“And we will ask Friar Laurence for garlic and enough holy water to fill our ankle flasks,” said Benvolio.
Romeo grinned as he shook their hands one at a time. “I suppose we must prepare for the worst.”
“And for your innocence to be lost,” Mercutio said with a wink.
CHAPTER THREE
From behind a tall limestone pillar near the top of a winding staircase, Juliet watched the festive scene unfold in the castle’s Great Hall. Her eyes bounced around the candlelit room with great interest and curiosity, settling upon striking women in glittering, beaded ball gowns and stoic gentlemen dressed in long formal jackets, stitched with shimmering gold thread.
She was amazed by the civility of it all. Humans and Capulets, gallivanting together as if there hadn’t been more than five years of bloodshed between them. It truly boggled the mind, but not enough to dampen the cheery mood of Transylvania’s most elite humans, who obviously were curious about the country’s most notorious vampires.
A choral trio was assembled in between two towering marble columns, singing “Ave Regina” by Guillaume Dufay. The angelic sound of their high-pitched voices competed with the din of chatter in the air. Juliet had no need to wonder about the subject matter of people’s conversations—the peace treaty that was threatening the tight choke hold the Capulets had over the region. Soon Prince Radu would arrive at the castle as the guest of honour and be welcomed by the most prestigious clan of vampires in all of Europe.
Juliet took a deep breath and felt her whalebone corset tightening against her rib cage. She knew she should be relieved by the prince’s presence this evening. Originally, this ball was scheduled to take place three days from now in celebration of Juliet’s sixteenth birthday, but plans had changed once Vladimir was imprisoned. The Capulets altered the theme of the dance and invited Prince Radu, hoping that they could prove they were worthy of the power his half-brother had bestowed upon them, and persuade the prince to lift the treaty so their freedom to feed off humans would no longer be compromised.
Juliet’s extended family was so distracted by the political upheaval that they had seemed to forget all about her and her coming-of-age ritual. Juliet wished to put it out of her mind as well, at least for this evening. But when she felt a familiar warm, strong hand with long, sharp fingernails rest upon her shoulder, there was nowhere safe for her mind to go.
“Where have you been hiding, Juliet?” a deep, raspy voice asked.
She turned her head, and out from the shadows came the distinguished and handsome face of her father, Lord Capulet. She stood there frozen for a moment as she took in his mesmerising features—a sharp square-set jaw, a well-kept beard, and dark red eyes that could burn holes right through her if she ever dared to disobey him. Juliet swallowed hard as she imagined her father as a young man on his sixteenth birthday, snapping the neck of an innocent human, then biting down into his flesh and sucking every ounce of blood from his veins.
“I’m not hiding,” Juliet replied meekly. “I just needed to be alone with my thoughts for a moment.”
Three young women, all around Juliet’s age, passed by, giggling like they did not have a care in the world. Juliet watched as her father’s red eyes tracked the girls. Lord Capulet’s mouth broke into a wide grin, causing Juliet to shudder. She couldn’t help but picture all the naive human women he must have lured into his lair with his charming smile and then “turned” into vampires with a swift, deep bite to their necks and a few drops of his blood.
The physical rush from turning humans into vampires was as strong as a dose of opium. The practice had run rampant in the vampire world for years, but it became less popular when their numbers grew and grew and there was not enough food to go around. Now with the peace treaty in effect, turning was also illegal, and those who continued to perform the act did so in absolute secrecy.
“You haven’t been down to the ball yet,” Lord Capulet said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”
“I’d rather not.” Juliet knew confiding in her father was not a good idea. Sometimes his temper ran even hotter than Lady Capulet’s.
“Your mother mentioned something. That you’d rather abstain from the initiation and die than become what you were meant to be.” Lord Capulet stepped away from Juliet, his cape whipping behind him, and peered out over the top of the staircase as though he were a monarch looking down on his kingdom. “I didn’t pay it any mind, given how hysterical women tend to be.”
Juliet felt prickles of heat wash over her neck like a rash. Thankfully, it wasn’t visible, because of the high collar of the emerald green gown her nurse had picked out for her this evening.
“Hysteria is the invention of men who aren’t able to control their spouses and daughters. Frankly, I believe I’m the only one in this family with the slightest sense of what is right and wrong,” she said tightly.
“Loyalty comes above all else, Juliet, even your sense of morality, however misguided it may be.” Lord Capulet kept his gaze trained on the merriment of the crowd downstairs; he was visibly unaffected by what Juliet had said to him.
A fit of anger bubbled up inside her chest, which she was barely able to contain.
“Don’t you mean duty, my lord?” Juliet’s tone was even more pointed now. “With loyalty, a person has a choice of whether or not to stand by someone. For instance, by asking Radu here, you are choosing to betray your loyalty to Vladimir, are you not?”
Juliet was sure that her accusation would tweak her father’s ego. The large bell in the north tower rang out five times, signalling that Prince Radu’s horse and carriage had made it through the castle’s main doors.
Lord Capulet bared his sharp fangs. Juliet moved backwards, her hands trembling. She’d seen this menacing side of him many times before, and each instance was just as terrifying as the last.
Lord Capulet bolted towards Juliet, grabbing her by both arms, his nails leaving indentations near her elbows. “This wilfulness of yours stops now. Do you understand me?”
Juliet’s breath was coming in large gasps. By the possessed look in Lord Capulet’s red eyes, she realised she’d upset him much more than she had intended. Juliet couldn’t bring herself to speak, so she only nodded.
“You will help me and your mother show the prince that we are deserving of this castle and our riches and our right to survive! Or you will pay such a dear price that starvation and death will seem like a sweet reward to you.”
Juliet could no longer look into Lord Capulet’s rage-filled eyes. She bowed her head in submission and said, “Yes, Father.”
A flood of applause carried throughout the rafters of the Great Hall. A booming voice called out, “Prince Radu of Wallachia and his sergeant at arms, Sir Felix.” Lord Capulet let go of Juliet and inhaled deeply, putting one of his hands on his chest. His shoulders relaxed and the expression on his face went from agitated to serene.
Lord Capulet held out a hand and smiled once again. His fangs had receded, but still she was hesitant to go near him.
“Come, Juliet,” he beckoned. “It is time to fight for our lives.”
As Juliet wove her way through the crowd, reluctantly holding on to Lord Capulet’s arm, acrid whispers were needling her ears. Her father seemed impervious to the noise, slowly floating above the marble floor with his chin jutting out and his fiery eyes locked on the raised platform where he was to meet Lady Capulet and greet Prince Radu. With her head hung low, Juliet tried to block the steady stream of voices from her mind, but they were impossible to ignore.
“Lord Capulet is fooling himself. He will never convince the prince to revoke his ruling,” said a distant female relative who Juliet couldn’t quite place. The woman shared Lady Capulet’s high cheekbones, and from the look of her silken violet-coloured dress, also the lady’s impeccable taste in exquisite fabrics.
A statuesque, crimson-eyed man clutching a goblet filled to the brim with a dark red liquid seemed annoyed by her comment.
“For God’s sake, look around you. He has turned our family into a dynasty, in spite of those scum-sucking Montagues. He is capable of anything, and charming anyone, including the prince of peace here.”
The man put his nose up to the rim of the glass and inhaled, like one would do with a fine wine, but his lips pursed as though he smelled something repulsive.
He must have taken one of the large pewter cups full of pig’s blood that the servants were passing around, Juliet thought. Since the treaty, all of the Capulets had been reduced to living off it. From the looks of things, this big change hadn’t seemed to affect the vampires, but many believed that human blood was what made vampires so strong, and over time, the lack of it would substantially weaken them.
From the way her parents had been acting lately, Juliet figured the theory was true. Yet at the same time, she didn’t want to believe it. While the peace treaty could not protect her from her initiation rite, Prince Radu had finally done what Juliet had never been able to do—stop her family from harming people. Not only that, it would certainly discourage the Montagues from hunting her vampire relatives down, now that they would be facing a death sentence.
Still, Juliet believed that the Capulets feared losing their political power, social rank, and affluence more than losing their physical prowess. Without their superhuman strength, they would not be able to guard any of it.
So it wasn’t just the lack of bloodlust that separated her from the rest of the Capulets—it was also her lack of greed.
As Juliet walked towards the platform at the head of the Great Hall, she tried to settle her thoughts, but the twittering of the crowd had become more insistent.
“This treaty might just redeem their souls, don’t you think?” a brunette-haired maiden chirped, her limestone crucifix pendant catching the light emanating from the candelabras on the ceiling. All the human guests at the ball were wearing one type of cross or another around their necks—doing so would make their bodies hot as fire to any vampire who dared touch them. It was certainly a bold reminder to the Capulets that they were far from being trusted.
“Do you honestly believe a diet of pig’s blood and a signed scroll is going to bring out the good in them? We’re better off letting the Montagues hunt them to extinction, which will be easy once their bodies are weakened,” her short and pudgy male escort replied.
The free sample has ended.
