Juliet was sure that her accusation would tweak her father’s ego. The large bell in the north tower rang out five times, signaling that Prince Radu’s horse and carriage had made it through the castle’s main doors.
Lord Capulet bared his sharp fangs. Juliet moved backward, 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 toward Juliet, grabbing her by both arms, his nails leaving indentations near her elbows. “This willfulness 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 realized 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-colored 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 toward 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.
Juliet swallowed hard. Perhaps the treaty would not be so effective in protecting her family as she’d thought. As she took a few more steps forward, her father’s strong hand tightly clamped over her own, she shut her eyes briefly and tried to clear her mind.
When she opened them a moment later, Lady Capulet was within view, as well as Prince Radu and his highest-ranking knight, Felix. Juliet never believed she would find anyone more intimidating than her mother, who stood so straight and rigid that she appeared to be a good ten feet tall. However, the longer Juliet looked at the prince, with his salt-colored hair, pink windburned cheeks, and virtuous-looking pale blue eyes, the more in awe of him she became.
Once she and Lord Capulet ascended the platform, Juliet could also see that the prince was wearing a red military-type uniform, which was similar to that of his sergeant at arms, only slimmer in the shoulders and more decorated with medals. Everything about him demanded respect, especially the brutish, scowling Sir Felix, who made no effort to conceal the long-sword at his side.
When her father bowed before the prince, Juliet lowered herself into her most reverent curtsy, her gown rippling around her like a wave of green spring leaves.
“Good evening, Prince Radu. We are delighted to have you and Sir Felix at our home,” Lord Capulet said.
“Thank you, good sir.” Prince Radu raised his eyebrows in amazement as he watched Lord Capulet levitating above the floor, right next to Juliet. “I am pleased to be here among your family and…shall I say ‘friends’?”
“Acquaintances mostly, but future allies, I hope.” Lord Capulet extended his hand to a lavishly dressed Lady Capulet and guided her to his left side. “You already met my lovely wife at the gate.”
“It is a great honor, Prince Radu,” Lady Capulet said as she delivered a perfect floating curtsy. Juliet was surprised that her mother could even get back up—the onyx choker around her neck was so gigantic, it must have weighed twenty pounds.
“And this is our precious daughter, Juliet.”
Juliet stifled a sarcastic laugh. If anyone had caught her with her father a few minutes ago, they would have questioned his use of the word “precious.”
Nevertheless, Prince Radu smiled at Juliet and planted a gentle kiss on her hand.
“It is a privilege to meet you, Your Highness,” Juliet said.
“The privilege is mine, young lady,” the prince replied.
After a few moments of pleasantries, Juliet’s father gestured toward the expansive Great Hall.
“Shall I show you around the castle before I present you to the rest of our company?” Lord Capulet offered.
The prince glanced around the room, taking in the artistry of the Gothic rose windows and beautiful hand-woven, wall-hanging tapestries all around him. “Yes, I’d enjoy that.”
As Lord Capulet began to lead the prince and Sir Felix away, Juliet felt her mother’s fingers lace through her own. A cold sensation traveled up Juliet’s arm and deep into her chest. When in the presence of her mother, she usually was tense, but this feeling of dread was in a class of its own.
&n
bsp; “Good God, I thought they would never stop talking. There is no time to waste,” Lady Capulet said, pulling her daughter down the stairs of the platform with great fervor.
Juliet tried to writhe away from her mother’s grip, but it was useless. Lady Capulet’s strength matched that of her husband’s.
“Where are you taking me?” Juliet asked.
Lady Capulet grinned, her teeth slightly stained with pig’s blood. “You will see soon enough.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Romeo peeled back the hood of his gray cloak and gazed up at the foreboding mass of stone and brick that was Capulet Castle. Protected by a gigantic iron gate that seemed to reach into the clouds, the building stretched out for at least seven hundred yards and had four enormous towers from which a handful of guards with crossbows stood watch. Romeo was dumbstruck by its imperviousness. He could hardly believe that any Montague had ever breached these grounds, let alone launched a full-fledged attack on the vampires inside.
A fierce wind roared through the heavy brush outside the castle’s perimeter, where Romeo, Benvolio, and Mercutio lay in wait, crouched down behind a swath of shrubbery under the light of a half-moon. Even though the fabric of his cloak was thick wool, a frigid chill ravaged his body and he shuddered. Then again, perhaps his nerves were just getting the best of him.
For over an hour, he had been waiting for a sign from Rosaline’s servant maid, Maribel. She would turn on a gaslight in the last room to the left on the ground floor, once the secret door in the servants’ quarters was unlocked. Romeo was deeply concerned that something was wrong. Although Mercutio was quite intelligent, he was known for getting involved with women who were pretty yet dim-witted—perhaps she had forgotten all about them. Romeo felt his hands beginning to shake. He had to distract himself.
“Did I tell either of you about the dream I had last night?” he asked in a soft voice.
Mercutio scratched at his neck with the handle of his parrying knife. “No, you did not.”
“If it is about Rosaline and her half-breed bosoms, we are not interested,” Benvolio said as he canvassed the area with a studious gaze.
“Speak for yourself.” Mercutio nudged Benvolio.
Benvolio rolled his eyes and shoved Mercutio back with his elbow so hard that Mercutio fell into a pile of sticky moss.
“Take cover, Romeo. I’m about to punch Benvolio’s lights out,” Mercutio growled.
“Will you be quiet?” Romeo whispered. “You know how sensitive the vampires’ hearing is.”
Benvolio took a dagger that was hidden beneath his sleeve and stabbed the ground near Romeo’s feet, turning and twisting it until a mound of dirt and worms was wrought up from the topsoil.
“We could take them all on if we had to,” he said.
Romeo shoved his hands into the pockets of his cloak. “Remind me to have a doctor take a look at you, Cousin. You’re obviously delusional.”
“Maybe he’ll be committed to a sanitarium,” Mercutio said snidely. “We’d all be better off.”
“Actually, I could use some sanity right now,” Romeo said. “That dream of mine was terrifying.”
Benvolio’s eyes widened. “Really? Go on.”
Romeo glanced at Benvolio and Mercutio skeptically, knowing that they’d probably laugh at his story. But when he looked at the window again and saw nothing but pitch-blackness, he continued.
“I dreamed that my lady came and found me dead, impaled by Vladimir himself. Then I was brought back to life by her kisses on my lips.”
“That does not sound so awful,” Mercutio said.
“I agree, you survived in the end,” Benvolio added.
“You do not understand. I was alive again, but…as one of them.” Romeo nodded at the castle ominously.
“Don’t worry, Romeo.” Benvolio picked up a worm and let it crawl around in his open palm, then suddenly flicked it off with his finger. “If this dream came true and you were turned by one of those filthy monsters, I would put you out of your misery. I could not promise you that it would be painless, but rest assured, it would be quick.”
Romeo crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “That is very thoughtful of you, Benvolio.”
“Romeo, look! The light came on inside the castle!” Mercutio said, pointing at the room where the servant maid had promised to give them safe passage.
Romeo sighed in relief. “Thanks be to God.”
“Do not thank God yet,” warned Benvolio as he patted Romeo hard on the back. “This mission has only just begun. Who knows what will happen when we enter the vampire lair during dinnertime?”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Mercutio said as he reached into a burlap sack and pulled out three garlic cloves attached to link chains. “Here, take these. Friar Laurence dipped the cloves in triple-blessed holy water and the chain is made of pure silver. This combination will render us invisible to both vampires and werewolves. But it only lasts for another hour, so Romeo, you and your wench cannot dawdle.”
“One more foul word about Rosaline, and I will pummel you with my fist,” Romeo snapped, ripping his string of garlic away from Mercutio and putting it around his neck.
“Actually, I think you should bludgeon him with this.” Benvolio reached into the burlap sack and brought out a foot-long crowbar.
Romeo stared at it in sheer amazement. “What else do you have in that bag?”
“Just the usual—a handsaw, wooden stakes, a mason chisel, shears, and a couple of axes,” Mercutio explained matter-of-factly.
“I suppose that will suffice,” Romeo said.
“We cannot carry it all. That would only slow us down. Pick just one or two weapons and follow me.” Benvolio snuck out of the bushes with cloves of garlic dangling around his neck and the crowbar in his right hand.
Romeo stuffed the mason chisel and a wooden stake into the waistband of his trousers and then darted off behind Mercutio, who was already ahead and walking stride for stride with Benvolio.
Romeo’s heart started pounding as he and his cousin dashed across the outskirts of the estate, making their way toward the gate. Romeo kept his eyes trained on the tower guards to make sure they had not been spotted. Fortunately, no one seemed the slightest bit aware of the Montague trespassers. The necklaces must have been working.
“Here it is,” Mercutio whispered. He halted in front of a warped section of the gate, where one of the bars was bent to the side, creating a small hole. “Maribel told me that when she steals away to see me, she slips through this spot here to evade the guards.”
Benvolio examined the damaged gate and snickered. “Obviously she eats less than your last lady friend. That boar could not have gotten through here if she tried!”
Mercutio poked Benvolio in the stomach with the handle of his mallet. “Neither will you, my paunchy friend.”
“Quit fooling around and step aside.” Romeo snatched the crowbar away from Benvolio, wrapping his fingers around the base of it with all his strength. “We have a party to attend.”
Careful not to make any loud sounds that would alert the guards, Romeo placed the crowbar between the two metal rungs in the gate so he could get ample leverage. He shifted his shoulders forward and then leaned backward, hoping to pry the rungs apart even farther so he and his cousins could sneak through. However, his effort made little difference.
Romeo tried again, this time using both his arms and his leg muscles with all his might. His palms became wet with perspiration and his arms ached, but he ignored the pain and thought of Rosaline—her gorgeous, milk-colored skin and bright, beaming eyes. He was so close to seeing her, he would not let anything or anyone stand in between them.
Romeo dug deep into his soul for a surge of brute power, and with one final swift, heaving motion, he bent the metal rung so far that it almost snapped in two.
“Aha! I did it!” Romeo said, pumping a fist into the air in jubilation.
“Congratulations, Romeo. That only took forever.” Benvolio roll
ed his eyes.
“Let’s get on with this already,” Mercutio said.
“I will lead the way,” Romeo said as he handed the crowbar to Benvolio and stepped through the new partition in the gate. One at a time, Benvolio and Mercutio followed behind him, their feet swift and light on the ground.
“It is so dark out here. I can hardly see anything,” Romeo said, using the ambient yellow glow from the servant maid’s window to guide himself across the grounds.
Suddenly Mercutio stopped dead in his tracks. “Wait, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Romeo asked.
“It sounded like…growling.”
Romeo remained still and listened. Other than the sound of rustling tree branches, he did not hear anything out of the ordinary. “It is just the wind, Mercutio. Carry on.”
The trio picked up their pace, taking large strides toward the castle, but they did not get too far before Benvolio made an abrupt stop.
“Mercutio is right. Something is out here, watching us.” Benvolio shifted his legs apart into a fighting stance and held the crowbar in an attack position.
Romeo could hear it now—a low, hungry growl that was seething with anger. He instinctively rubbed a garlic clove between his fingers. “Mercutio, you said we were invisible to vampires and werewolves.”
A thin steam of moonlight illuminated two pairs of beady golden eyes and salivating mouths with sharp teeth.
“But not to dogs,” Mercutio said, his voice wavering.
Romeo gulped as the two snouts sniffed the air for fear.
“This is bad,” Benvolio said.
“Very bad,” Romeo agreed.
Once one of the dogs had lunged at them, there was nothing left to do but—
“Run!” Benvolio proclaimed, and took off like a scared rabbit.
Without a second to lose, Romeo broke into a fast sprint, with Mercutio scrambling alongside of him and the dogs in hot pursuit. Romeo ran through a cluster of stone bunkers and over a wooden footbridge that crossed a small moat. Mercutio put forth a burst of momentum and dashed past Romeo, which annoyed him immensely.
Romeo & Juliet & Vampires Page 3
